#if she wasn't around season seven would be nothing....

[lonesomedotmp3]

shawn and cory are the real freaks if we're being real here i'm not blind ok however the show has never ever shyed away from their dynamic or letting them help each other grow etc etc like there's not much to say because it's just in the text that they're like this and you can't even go anywhere with it in your head unless you're a heathen who wants to break up my friends cory and topanga... they're best friends they love each other they complete each other yada yada. jack and eric on the other hand are so insanity inducing because for all intents and purposes they SHOULD have this profound affect on each other's lives altering their paths and themselves irrevocably like they fundamentally complete and heal each other it's written into the very core of their dynamic. but they just... don't? they never get the chance to breach the walls they've built that ONLY the other can ever dismantle. by design. and well it haunts me every day.

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea)

After being cornered by your friends, you find yourself in an even more complicated position due to your impulsive decision.

Part warning: none, just my bad attempt at crack humor Words: 2.6k A/n: If you paid attention, I've been using his gifs from season 9 so the timeline is somewhere along there. And while writing half of this, I realized Emily wasn't even on that season, but for the sake of fanfiction and pure imagination, let's ignore the human error of this stupid author. Thank you. Let me know what you think!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

It took you exactly seven hours and fifteen minutes to finally gather the courage to head to Penelope's lair. The morning had been a blur of paperwork and reports, leaving you mentally drained and chained to your desk. But no matter how much work you plowed through, your mind kept drifting back to last night's disaster and how your friends had planned the whole thing.

Frustration wasn’t enough to describe how you felt. You found yourself gripping your pen so tightly it threatened to snap in your hand, and your fingers pounded the keyboard harder than necessary as you typed out reports.

Eventually, you found yourself daydreaming about ways to get back at them. You imagined a dozen different ways to plot your revenge, each more elaborate than the last, and although it provided a temporary sense of satisfaction, it wasn't enough. 

By the time you wrapped up your last report, your frustration had reached its peak. You decided you couldn't wait any longer. You headed to JJ's desk first, hoping to catch her and get some answers, but it was empty. With no sign of her anywhere and your patience wearing thin, there was only one other person who might have the answers you needed.

You made a beeline for Penelope’s office. The moment her door came into view, you knocked sharply and then entered without waiting for a response. You weren’t surprised when you found Penelope and JJ huddled over a monitor, their heads snapping up in sync at your abrupt entrance.

“There she is!” Penelope exclaimed, turning around in her chair. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh, really?” you replied, crossing your arms. “I wonder what could possibly be so interesting about me.”

Penelope and JJ exchanged a quick look, barely suppressing their chuckles. 

“How did it go last night?”

You groaned at the memory. “I can’t believe you guys tricked me!”

JJ laughed and turned to you, her expression almost apologetic. “Look, we’re sorry, okay? We just thought it would be…” she looked over at Penelope, trying to come up for a word before settling with, “Fun.”

“Fun?” You exclaimed. “Manipulating your friends into awkward situations is your idea of fun?“

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “It couldn't have been that bad. Did you guys talk it out?”

You stared at her pointedly as if the idea of you having that conversation with him was absurd.

“No.”

“Did he apologize for anything?”

“No.”

“Come on, there had to be some deep, meaningful conversation,” JJ chimed in, trying to hold back a grin.

You scoffed. “No.”

“Did he walk you home?”

“No—wait, yes, he did,” you admitted, recalling the memory. “But he complained the whole time about how inefficient my route was and how there were, and I quote, statistically shorter paths to my apartment.”

“How sweet of him,” Penelope observed, deciding to ignore the last part of your rant. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did he lean in for a goodnight kiss?”

“What? No!” You sat on the only empty chair in the room, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing happened.”

“Did he at least say something sweet when he walked you home?” Penelope prodded, trying to dig deeper.

You shook your head, a resigned sigh escaping you. “No, because it was nothing like that. We talked, we ate, he walked me home. That’s it.”

“Sounds like the start of something to me.”

“Totally the start of something,” Penelope nodded enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s nothing to start because we can’t even stand each other.”

“Well you know what they say,” Penelope sang. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, trying not to show how unnerving her assumptions were. "That's ridiculous."

“But he walked you home,” she pointed out.

“So?”

“So that’s got to be something,” JJ joined in. “Spencer’s not exactly known for going out of his way unless he wants to.”

“He was just being polite,” you insisted, feeling cornered. “He walked me home because my apartment was on the way to his place.”

Penelope tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, on his way, or making a way?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Maybe he’s being subtle about it,” JJ suggested, trying to sound reasonable. “He’s not that forward when it comes to expressing his feelings.”

“No, guys, it wasn’t anything like that,” you insisted, your voice rising slightly in frustration as your eyes moved between the two of them. The room felt smaller with each passing second, the walls closing in as they stared at you expectantly. They were enjoying this way too much.

“Oh, but it could be,” Penelope persisted. “You’re both single, smart, attractive people who spend a lot of time together.”

“You two are unbelievable.”

“It’s okay, you can tell us,” she continued, her voice softer now as she reached out to pat your hand. “We’re your friends, and if there’s something more, we’d love to support you.”

“Or if you prefer to keep it a secret, we won’t tell anyone.”

“Exactly. You can trust us. We’re really good at keeping secrets.”

“So good.”

“So good.”

Your patience snapped, frustration and pressure boiling over. “Fine! Yes! We’re going on another date!” You blurted out, the lie spilling out in a moment of desperation before you could stop. “Happy now?”

Silence fell over the room as Penelope and JJ stared at you, stunned. Then slowly, realization dawned on their faces, and a chorus of excited squeals filled the air.

“Oh, I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

JJ grinned at you. “Really?”

The weight of your words hit you like a cold splash of water.

What had you just done?

“This is so exciting!” Penelope gushed, her enthusiasm mounting. Then she turned to you. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

You suddenly felt a wave of panic. You scanned their faces, seeing only genuine excitement and curiosity, no hint of doubt and discomfort swelling inside you. How could you explain that there was nothing to tell because there was no second date? That it was just a knee-jerk reaction to their relentless teasing? You couldn't possibly confess now, not without making everything infinitely worse.

But how were supposed to tell him? The idea of deceiving not just your friends but also involving Spencer in this lie made you feel sick. The room seemed to spin as you tried to come up with some way to ease the damage.

“I... I wanted it to be a surprise?” You managed to say, although the words sounded more like a question. Your lie felt hollow even to your own ears, but Penelope and JJ seemed to buy it, nodding and exchanging excited glances.

“This is going to be amazing,” Penelope said, practically bouncing in her chair. “So when’s the next date?”

Your mind raced. For there to be a next date, even a pretend one, you needed to talk to him. The realization hit you hard, the full weight of the lie you'd just created sinking in. You'd have to involve him in this deception and the thought made you feel queasy. You imagined the awkward conversation, the look of confusion—and likely frustration—on his face. This was going to be a mess.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, scrambling for a response. “Uh, soon. I-I’ve got to go talk to him about it, actually.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up even more. “Oh, planning it together! That’s so sweet!”

You forced a smile, slowly rising from your seat. “Yeah, super sweet,” you mumbled, your voice barely steady. You could feel your cheeks burning as you stumbled over your lies. “I, uh, better go find him now.”

Without waiting for a response, you bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You mentally kicked yourself with every step. You had let them get to you, allowing their teasing to push you into this mess. You couldn’t believe you had let yourself get caught up in this lie.

You paused in the hallway, briefly considering turning back and telling them the truth. The thought lingered for a moment, the idea of ending this charade before it spiraled further out of control. But you quickly shook your head, knowing that backtracking now would only make things worse. You could already imagine how unbearable the teasing and explanations would be.

No, you’ve gone too far to back out now.

Continuing down the hallway, your steps quickened as you searched for him. You finally spotted him by the pantry, absentmindedly pouring too much sugar into his coffee. You walked up to him and leaned against the counter, watching him stir his coffee with more force than necessary.

“I did something stupid,” you blurted out, catching his attention. He looked up before glancing back down at his cup.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“No, listen.” You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “It’s about last night.”

He finally looked at you, eyebrows raised, clearly surprised as to why you would bring up anything from last night.

“What about last night?” He asked, bringing his cup to his lips.

The words tumbled out in a rush. “I was with JJ and Garcia, and they were teasing me about us, how we supposedly have this… thing going on now. I couldn’t take it anymore. So…” You watched him take a sip of his coffee. “…I told them we’re going on another date.”

He choked, the drink catching in his throat. Coughing, he set the cup down with a sharp clatter, his eyes watering slightly as he regained his composure.

“You told them what?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” You rushed to explain. “They wouldn’t stop pushing and I just wanted them to shut up. I thought if I said something like that, they’d just leave me alone. But now they expect details, and I… I need your help.”

He took a deep breath, trying to process what you were asking of him. “Let me get this straight. You, of all people, told them we’re going on another date, knowing full well how we—” He paused, searching for the right words. “How we don’t get along. And now you want me to help you keep up this lie?”

You nodded, and he called out your name in frustration.

"Last night wasn't even a date!”

“I know! The words just… came out.” When you saw him shake his head disapprovingly, you let out a groan. “I’m not thrilled about it either, okay? But I’m kind of… desperate here.”

Spencer took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving yours. After a moment, he set the cup down, gripping it in his hand.

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “No?”

“No,” he confirmed before turning around, walking back to his desk. “I’m not going to help you.”

You shuffled along, trying to match his pace. “Why not? This could actually get them to stop.”

“Do you even hear yourself? This is crazy. You can’t just spin lies and drag me into them because you want to avoid a little teasing,” he retorted, sitting down and starting to shuffle through some papers on his desk, clearly trying to end the conversation.

“It’s not a little teasing! They’re relentless,” You pressed, leaning against his desk. “Come on, don’t you ever get tired of them trying to set us up?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend to date you. What’s next? A fake wedding?”

“Don’t be dramatic. We just need to show up together a couple of times, act mildly interested in each other, and then we can break up. We fake it, we tell them it didn’t work out, and we move on. It’s simple.”

“Of course, because nothing says ‘simple’ like faking an entire relationship.”

You crossed your arms and took a deep, calming breath. “Look, I know it’s not the greatest plan, but can you think of a better way to get them off our backs?”

Spencer stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “You realize you’re trying to deceive a team of profilers, right?”

He had a point, but you weren’t about to back down. “Wasn’t this your whole idea in the first place?”

“My idea was for us to act like we get along, not pretend that we’re in love.”

“It doesn’t even have to be convincing,” you argued, leaning in slightly. “Just enough to make them back off for a while. Besides, if you start laying it on too thick, they’ll never believe it. They know you don’t have much experience to begin with.”

Spencer looked offended, his brows knitting together. “I have experience,” he countered. “Just because I’m not flaunting it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless.”

“Oh, yeah? When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and when you noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, you realized what you had just implied. There was a tensed pause as you both stared at each other. You both knew the answer to that question, and you both knew you were treading dangerous territory.

But before either of you could break the silence, a voice cut through the tension. “What are you two lovebirds fighting about now?”

You turned to see Derek standing by his own desk, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. And then you saw it, an opportunity. If Spencer wasn’t going to agree to help willingly, you were going to take matters into your own hands.

You straightened your shoulders and faced Derek. “We need to tell you something.”

Spencer sensed what you were about to do and quickly stood up. “Wait—“

“Reid and I are dating.”

You heard Spencer take a sharp inhale. There was no turning back. The nerves in your stomach tightened, but you decided to ignore it and focus your attention on Derek instead. His eyes widened in surprise, looking between the two of you.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms and standing your ground, while Spencer remained silent beside you, his expression unreadable. “We decided to give it a shot.”

“At dating? As in romantically?”

“I don’t think there’s another way to describe it.”

Derek stared at you both for a moment longer, then his shock gave way to a broad grin. “Finally.” He let out an amused laugh “Took you two long enough.”

He approached with a playful swagger, clapping Spencer on the shoulder and ruffling your hair, which you quickly swatted away. “Can’t say that I’m surprised, but congratulations.”

Spencer looked at you, and you glanced back at him. Derek, oblivious to the tension between you two, grinned widely.

“I guess all that tension was just unresolved passion, huh?”

Your eyes snapped at him. “Morgan!”

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing a broad smile. “I’m just happy for you both. Seriously.”

You stared at him, bracing yourself for more teasing, perhaps a joke about what supposedly happened last night, or worse, something embarrassingly inappropriate. But to your surprise, Derek didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded with a genuine smile and returned to his desk, resuming his work.

You and Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, not quite sure how to process the sudden shift. You both were so used to his relentless teasing that his quick exit left you momentarily speechless.

You slightly leaned towards him as you continued to stare at Derek hunched over his desk.

“Do you hear that noise?” You whispered.

“What noise?”

“Exactly. This is the sound of peace,” you replied with a slight grin, turning back to Spencer. “See? This is already working. If we keep this up, we can finally get them off our backs.”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered, giving you a pointed look.

“Do you have a better plan?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m all ears if you do.”

Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if weighing the pros and cons. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this…” He trailed off, looking genuinely conflicted. “This is going to backfire, you know that, right?”

Sure, he could be right, but at the same time, you believed this plan was harmless. It seemed like a simple solution: a fake relationship played out convincingly enough to appease your friends. It was supposed to be straightforward—an act, a performance without real consequences. Nothing could go wrong if you controlled the narrative.

You finally looked up at him. “Don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound confident. “It won’t.”

But as the words left your mouth, you realized, you weren't entirely convinced.

[tonyspep]

walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walking to

A/N: this is for the summer fic exchange!!! it started out as something completely different, but here we are. This is for the amazing @laurenairay I really hope you like it and that your summer is going well. This is my first time writing for Quinn Hughes so here's to trying something different. Quinn is so cute, so I hope I did him justice. This was inspired by “Call It What You Want” by Taylor Swift, which is so hurt/comfort to me. So here we are with Quinn being comforted after the game seven loss to the Oilers this year. thank you to @wyattjohnston for hosting this amazing exchange!!

Walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walkin' to

summary: the series didn't end the way you or quinn was hoping, but you weren't going to let him hang his head for too long

rating: t

i'm laughin' with my lover, makin' forts under covers

trust him like a brother, yeah, you know I did one thing right

starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest nights

“call it what you want” - by taylor swift

The final seconds ticked away and it was obvious this game wasn't going to end the way you or Quinn wanted it to. He and the rest of the Canucks gave the series everything they had, but McDavid and Draisaitl and company proved to be too much in the end. You felt Brock's girlfriend Bella wrap her arms around your middle, a soft sob escaping her as she rested her head against your back. It was hard for you not to cry, too. The boys had worked so hard to get to this point, they had fought all the way back to take the series lead, only to falter in the most important game and now the off season would be starting.

“I thought they had it,” Bella murmured and you could only nod. You really believed this year was going to be their year. They won the Pacific Divison. They beat the Preadators 4-2 and had home ice advantage in this series, which you knew would be tough, but still..

A tear couldn't help but trickle down your cheek. They had all the pieces to go far, maybe even all the way, and instead they would be packing up their lockers, doing exit interviews and the summer would be starting earlier than any of you anticipated.

“Me, too, Bells,” You agreed with the blonde who had become your best friend since you started dating Quinn just a little over a year ago. The two of you hugged each other tight, watching as the fans made their way out of the arena. You separated from each other after giving each other a kiss on the cheek and went down the steps to the locker room.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as you waited for Quinn to appear. Out came Elias, skull cap pulled over his buzzed blonde hair, flashing you just a brief smile before his handsome face transformed into more of a grimace. JT was not standing tall, but hunched until he was embraced by his family. Brock gave you the best grin he could muster, nothing like his usual sparkling grin that you had come to know almost as well as Quinn's soft smile.

Then came a familiar head of soft brown hair, longer than it was when you first met Quinn in the hallway of your shared apartment building in downtown Vancouver. His head was down, his shoulders slumped, like they were holding the weight of the world. Your heart couldn't help but break. You knew how hard Quinn had worked to get to this point, how he took on the burden of being Captain and how seriously he took the C on his chest. He didn't want the Cup for himself, he wanted it for Brock, for Elias, JT, Thatcher, for Coach Rick Tocchect. He was so selfless and put the team first above anything and everything else.

All you wanted to do was take his pain away, to put the bashfully sweet smile you knew so well back on his face.

“Hey, you,” Quinn gave a weak laugh and there was a hint of the smile you fell in love with on his lips, making your heart lift slightly. “You can really smile you know,” You tease, reaching for Quinn's hand. “I know this didn't go the way we wanted to, but if you don't smile I'll think you're not happy to see me,” You joke and Quinn does laugh, for real this time. “Y/N,” Quinn's voice is tender as he cups your cheek in his other hand. “I'm always happy to see you. If you weren't here right now, I'd be going home to a dark apartment to just sit on my couch and think about all the things I could have done better. Instead, I'm going home with you, which makes this easier than it would be otherwise.”

You flush from Quinn's words. You want this to be easier for him, to ease some of the weight he carries and you think you know just how to do it.

Quinn can see the wheels turning in your head, see the spark that's suddenly taken over your deep eyes. He arches a brow and you kiss his cheek, teasing, “Just wait. I know just how to make this not seem so bad, but you tell me if it's too much, okay? I just want to be here for you, however you want me to be, Quinny,”

His cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, showing through the playoff beard he's grown. Your heart skips a beat; even a bit run down after a hard fought series, Quinn is still the cutest boy you've ever known. With his big sad puppy eyes, his soft mop of dark hair that curls over his ears, his pink lips and warmly handsome face.

“Relax,” You say as you unlock your shared apartment's front door. “Just sit on the couch, don't do anything except take off your shoes, take a shower if you want, change into something comfy but leave everything else to me, okay?”

Quinn chuckles to himself and gives a joking salute, “Yes ma'am, but there is one other thing I want to do before you do whatever it is you're going to do.”

You blink curiously as you tilt your head, wondering what this one thing could be and then Quinn is touching your cheek, so gently as he presses his lips against yours. This kiss is the sweetest, softest kiss you've ever experienced. You continue kissing each other softly, neither of you wanting to pull away as your fingers sink into Quinn's wonderfully soft, thick dark hair. He nips on your bottom lip, gently, making you moan his name as his other hand wraps around your waist, anchoring you to strong frame.

You break apart out of necessity and Quinn says, “Now I'll go relax and leave you to your surprise,” and you're so tempted to follow him, heat thrumming through your veins, want clouding your thoughts as your eyes follow Quinn until he disappears down the hall.

Somehow you resist the urge, remembering that this night is about Quinn, that even though the game ended in disappointing fashion, you weren't going to let the night end that way.

Flipping through your contacts, you find the one you were looking for and you can only hope you have all the ingredients for the recipe you're planning. Talking to Ellen Hughes feels so much like talking to your own Mom. Her warmth radiates from the other side of the phone as you facetime and you feel relieved that you do have all the ingredients for her famous Kugle, which is Quinn's favorite food.

You're not the best cook but Kugle is easier than you expected. You laugh with Ellen as she goes over the recipe step by step with you and after the casserole goes into the oven, you see Quinn standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking adorably cozy in a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

“Is that my Mom?” He asks, his voice so childlike his big brown eyes lit up with hopefulness and Ellen answers for you saying, “Hi, Sweetie. Y/N just called me. I'm so sorry...” and you leave the kitchen, letting mother and son have this time together, knowing Quinn needs the comfort of his Mom now more than ever.

“You made Kugle,” Quinn's voice is full of wonder as you reappear in the kitchen after changing into something comfortable yourself. “Is that why you called my Mom? So you would know how to make it? I could have helped,” He huffed a little, a pout forming on his beautiful lips, which made you laugh. “I'm the only one of us that knows how to make it. Mom shared her secrets with me,” He's proud, his chest puffing a little and how did you get such a sweet guy to call her your own?

“If you made it that would defeat the purpose of you relaxing,” You shake your head as you and Quinn walk toward each other and share another kiss unable to resist each other.

While the Kugle continues baking, you reveal part two of your of your surprise. After changing into your comfiest outfit – a shirt that used to be Quinn's and a pair of well worn shorts – you set up a fort in the living room with all the blankets and pillows in the apartment. “A fort?” Quinn's eyes are bright like they should always be and you smile just as bright. “A fort,” You confirm. “Figured after tonight you could use something fun like a fort and something comforting like your Mom's Kugle,”

Quinn wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I like the way you think,” He kisses your cheek and you blush.

Getting under the blankets, you fire up Disney Plus and land on Toy Story. You know Quinn as well as you know yourself after having been together for nearly two years now and you know how much he loves this movie. Just like if the roles were reversed, Quinn would know to put on Pretty Woman or Tangled.

The familiar credits start just as the oven dings and before Quinn can get up, you push his shoulder gently saying, “I don't think so, you stay right here,” and he knows better to argue with you, so he stays put, laughing as the toys in Andy's room start to move around, letting the audience in that they're alive.

“You're a Toy!” Quinn shouts along with Woody after the new spaceman toy “lands” in Andy's room and you laugh, getting in a few Bo Peep lines and Slinky moments as Quinn can't help but get in the Woody lines before they happen. It's no surprise the cowboy is your boyfriend's favorite and you can't help but remember your first Halloween together this year when you dressed as Woody and Bo Peep to the Canucks party.

You enjoy the Kugle even stealing some of Quinn's who says, “Hey,” and shields his plate from you.

You're snuggled up together as the last credits play, Quinn humming along with “You've Got A Friend In Me.” He kisses you on the forehead and sings in your ear, “Some other folks might be a little bit smarter than I am, bigger and stronger too, maybe but none of them will ever love you the way I do, it's me and you,”

You giggle sweetly as you finish the song with the familiar refrain, beaming up at Quinn, “Boy and as the years go by our friendship will never die. You're gonna see it's our destiny. You've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me,”

You kiss each other softly, your tongues meeting as your hands move over each other's bodies. Your foreheads come to rest against each other's, your breath coming in soft pants as you look lovingly at each other, Quinn's big hand on your back, his fingers moving over your spine as you sigh, “I love you so much, Quinn,”

His cheeks flush – even though you've been saying I love you for months, it still makes him blush, like he can't believe you love him, which is insane, how can he love you – and your heart flutters like always whenever you're under the stare of his warm brown eyes. “I love you, too. This was amazing; just what I needed after tonight,” He says softly, his voice so tender and honest.

In your fort it's like nothing can touch you here, like, what happened tonight – the devastating loss – didn't happen. You hope you've given Quinn just a little relief, that his heart doesn't feel as heavy as it did when he watched the last seconds tick away or when he was in the handshake line or addressing the team in the locker room after, and the soft smile on his face as he holds you close tells you, you may have done all of that.

The next morning, you wake up in Quinn's arms, the safest place in the world and you smile at how serene he looks sleeping. The worry he carries with him is gone, the lines in his face smoothed away while his long, thick lashes resting on his cheeks. You see the smile creep across Quinn's lips telling you he's awake and his voice, thick with sleep, teases you, “Take a picture it'll last longer,”.

Quinn's humor is sneaky and you poke him in the ribs. “Like you haven't been staring at me too,”

Quinn's eyes open as he stretches and he says, “Can you blame me? I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you,”

“Smooth,” You remark and Quinn laughs. “It's not often, I am,” He admits and after a lazy kiss you find yourself sitting on the stools of your kitchen's island as Quinn makes breakfast.

Last night may not have ended the way both of you wanted, but today was a new day and there would be a new season on the horizon and you would make sure Quinn's days leading up to training camp and then opening night would be the brightest. You wouldn't let him get down on himself or believe he could have done more. You were going to make him believe in himself and believe in the team he had help build up to be one of the best, and that started today.

[hello-nichya-here]

Yes, Buffy loved Spike

The way people act like that was in anyway left up to discussion by the show is legit hilarious/infuriating.

James Marsters (Spike) has said in an interview that, when Joss Whedon let him know that Spike was gonna fall in love with Buffy in season five, he had assumed it would one-sided - only for Whedon to correct him with a "Oh no, she's gonna fall in love with you too."

And the show wasn't shy about it either. Through seasons six and seven, we are shown Buffy repeatedly denying that she loves Spike - and then immediatelly contradicting herself either through actions or her own words (and even in season five she had already kissed him once after he did not give away her sister's identiy to Glory even after being tortured).

After Buffy comes back from the dead - from heaven - and is dragged to the literal hellmouth, having to crawl out of her grave, she sees the Buffy-bot being torn from limb by a bunch of demons. Naturally, this fucks with her head a bit. She manages to save her friends, but she is still very shaken, and looking like she's not really fully back to her senses as her sister is speaking to her. It really does look like something is very wrong and that she is not at all the same girl we once knew.

Then she hears Spike's voice and goes to see him. Only when she sees HIM, when HE starts trying to talk to her, when HE is the one taking care of her, does she start to properly respond. And, of course, out of all the people there - all of whom are worried about her and that she supposedly trusts way more than she trusts this "fully evil" vampire - Spike is the one to whom she reveals what actually happened to her.

During the musical episode, we see her sing "I touch the fire and it freezes me, I look into it and it's black. Why can't I feel? My skin should crack and peal - I want the fire back" confirming to us that her depression after being taken from heaven was not just a temporary consequence of the shock of it all, and has left her completely disconnected from the people she loved, and from life itself, and that she does not know if it can ever be fixed.

But at the end of the episode, after Spike stops her from basically commiting suicide (because remember, he stopped BUFFY. not the bad guy) she sings to Spike "This isn't real, but I just wanna feel" right before they kiss. And Spike's own song says "I died so many years ago. You can make me feel like it isn't so."

It is very clear that what convinced Buffy to keep on living wasn't just because Spike loved her - she already knew that, and she also her friends and this has not done anything to make her less depressed. What makes her not give up is realizing that SHE can still connect to others, SHE still can have feelings for someone. Only it is with her former mortal enemy instead of her friends and family (she had even said in an earlier episode that he was the only person she could stand to be around) and the kiss makes it obvious that this new bond she has with Spike is NOT platonic.

And the following episode when she tries to pretend it means nothing? It has her acting all flirty with Spike while they're both dealing with the amnesia spell, and once their memories return the episode ends with her kissing him AGAIN.

And during ALL of the episodes she's claming she is totally disgusted by him? She's having sex with him all the time. And when Tara finds out about it, Buffy does admit she's using him, but she refuses to give an answer when Tara asks "Do you love him?"

When Spike brings a date to Xander's wedding , Buffy KNOWS is just to get her jealous and Spike even admits to it - and she admits that, even knowing all of that, it DOES bother her. She is unbelievably distraught after finding out he slept with Anya, and even says to his face "I have feelings for you, I do. But it's not love. I could never trust you enough for that" showing us that the thing stopping Buffy from truly giving Spike a chance is, understandably, the "You're a literal souless creature that needs to feed on people to survive" factor, not because their connection is not genuine or strong enough, or because of her past with Angel.

Not to mention, it makes perfect sense that, during the season she was clearly suicidal, she falls in love with the character that is representing the possibility of her death - their first time even happens after Spike reveals that, for some reason, the chip no longer causes him pain when he attacks her, and thus he actually poses a threat to her again.

Unhealthy? Absolutely. Scary? Fuck yes. Does she get over her "feelings that are totally not love" in the season finale, when she's crawling "out of her grave" again, this time triumphantly, in the sunlight, all brave and finally letting go of her self loathing? NOPE!

In season seven, when she's finally about to go out with a man that is not and has never been evil, her friends are all obviously wondering if this is a sign that she is over Spike - of if she's just pretending to. Buffy's response? THE biggest Freudian Slip she's ever had in the series.

"Why does everyone in this house think that I'm still in love with Spike?"

STILL!

Still. In. Love.

Not "Why is everyone convinced that I fell in love with Spike? I told you guys I liked him, but didn't love him" but "Why do you guys think I'm not over those totally vague, definitively not deep 'feelings' I had and that were 100% not just a code for 'Yes, I am in love with him, but I'm scared it will blow up in my face'?"

And how does that date with that Not Evil guy, that was revealed to be the son of Slayer, go? Pretty well! It looks like this romance might actually have a chance of going somewhere.

At least until she goes "Look, I know Spike killed your mom when he was souless and all, but if you try to go after him to get revenge again, he will murder you, and I will let him." She also turns her back on her watcher, and father figure, when she finds out he was in on the plan to kill this vampire that is Totally-Not-Her-Boyfriend.

The episode even has Giles directly compare her codependent bond with Spike to what she had with Angel - which again, included her letting Angelus get away and kill people. Sure, Spike has a soul now, he let the dude live to tell the tale since killing his mom WAS an awful thing to do, and if he was attacked again and killed him it would be self-defense - but it's impossible not to notice the very clear "Buffy is protecting her man" tone of it all.

Not to mention, before that, Spike offers to leave Sunnydale since Buffy's potential new boyfriend clearly can help her find demons and thus she no longer needs him around - and she full on says that SHE IS NOT READY FOR HIM NOT TO BE THERE.

Then, of course, there's "Touched." The episode in which EVERYONE is going "We might die tomorrow, lets fuck to cope", and not only is Buffy clearly touched (Get it? Get it?) by Spike's speech about how much he loves her, she asks him to get in bed with her and hold her. And even though they are not having sex, the scenes of them cuddling are being framed as being just as intimate and romantic as the scenes of everyone else making love to their partners. Again, we had Giles full on state the obvious to Buffy: she and Spike might not be sleeping together anymore, but they are VERY clearly acting like they're still in a relationship, even if both are now hesitant to give it a try after literally everything went wrong for them.

The following day, Spike says that it was the happiest night of his life, and when he starts saying that he knows it obviously didn't mean as much for Buffy as it did to him, she corrects him and says it absolutely did. Spike even goes as far as trying to confirm it AGAIN by asking "Were you there with me?" to which Buffy says "I was", which is HUGE considering she had just admited to him the previous night that she had always cut herself off from everyone - Spike VERY much included - due to being the slayer.

"Oh, but what about the Bangel kiss in the finale?"

The one Joss Whedon explicitly refered to as "the show's way of servicing the Bangel fans" aka FANSERVICE? The one that came right out of nowhere as the signature of Bangel's "romantic chemistry" is angsty pining? The one that didn't hold a candle to one of the few Bangel scenes I say absolutely worked, aka the kiss after Angel comes back to Sunnydale to help Buffy deal with her grief over her mother and that only happened after they had spend HOURS together because, surprise surprise, it doesn't matter if they still have feelings for each other, they have NEVER had this dynamic of exes that just casually make out with each other the second they are in the same room together?

The one that happens right before Buffy says "Sorry, you won't be the vampire champion that will save the world, I'm chosing Spike for that role"? The one that is followed by an obviously jealous Angel making it very clear to Buffy that he is bitter she's "brushing him off for captain peroxide"? And then she asks if he'll react that way everytime she gets a BOYFRIEND?

When Angel points out that, again, she just let slip how she actually feels about Spike, Buffy has to deny it because Joss Whedon thought the ONLY way to make sure viewers didn't miss that Buffy is totally an independent woman that don't need no man was to tease both the possibility of a Bangel AND a Spuffy endgame just to go "Sorry, Buffy is gonna choose to be single."

HOWEVER, even the way she does that has changed significantly, as she says "He is not my boyfriend, but he is in my heart." Notice how, unlike all the previous times, Buffy is not trying to diminish what she has with Spike.

She went from "I slept with Spike/said I feelings for him BUT this totally means nothing and I could NEVER love him because he doesn't have a soul like Angel did" to "Look, Angel, I swear that Spike is totally not my boyfriend BUT I will treat him like he is because I absolutely do have feelings for him. Could you pretty, pretty please go back to L.A. now that the fanservice moment is over? I'll even end it with a 'sometimes I totally think of what could happen between us someday' so we can pretend our romance has not been officially pronounced 'impossible to ever be endgame' since season three of my show and season one of your show?"

And where does she immediatelly go to after this? To see Spike. Because she wants another night of cuddling with him. Then The First shows up in the middle of the night to torment her, he explicitly refers to Spike as Buffy's vampire LOVER.

Finally, the final battle is happening, and Spike is about to die saving the world, and Buffy, with tears in her eyes finally says that she loves him. Whedon had even said to Sarah "Be proud of him. Love him when saying it." We even see literal flames as they are holding hands - an obvious nod to the musical, with the "I want the fire (feeling) back", and Whedon basically confirmed it by saying it was a very deliberate choice to symbolize the feelings the characters have for each other. It is the visual representation of Buffy FINALLY accepting that she truly does love Spike.

"Oh, but he responds 'No, you don't, but thanks for saying it' implying Buffy was only trying to make sure he would die happy!"

Did you guys forget EVERYTHING ELSE I just mentioned in this post? Or the fact, at that point, Spike is still processing the guilt of all the monstruous things he did as a vampire now that he has a soul again? Did you forget him literally asking Buffy to kill him for what he did and telling her that the soul did not suddenly make him good - only for HER to be the one to say he fought back against the monster inside of him and that she believes in him?

Again, James Marsters gave us his insight on what he felt Spike meant by that line and how he played it: Spike was saying that Buffy COULDN'T love him. Not yet. Because he didn't feel he deserved it yet. It was not the right time for them. Yet.

"Oh, but in the late seasons of Angel, when Spike is brought back to life, he is told that Buffy never truly loved him!" Yeah, he is told that - BY ANGEL! In what world would he, Buffy's ex that has had problems with Spike since long before Buffy was even born and that had already admited that having her pick Spike over him "did not bring out the champion in him", not be extremely biased?

"But you're forgetting the Buffy comics in which she is basically told Angel is her soulmate and sleeps with him during some magical fuckery that made her go mad with power!"

Yeah, and in those same comics, even though it took forever and Whedon just HAS to force the "Buffy ends the story chosing to be single because she can either be a strong female character OR be in a happy relationship" AGAIN, she and Spike became a couple after all of that, with her explicitly telling him WHAT SHE HAD WITH ANGEL IS IN THE PAST, and the ending even suggests is only a matter of time before she and Spike get back together again, this time for good.

Claiming that it was up for debate if Buffy ever truly loved Spike is as ridiculous as if I said "I know we are both shown and told many times that Angel and Buffy slept together in season two, but I actually think it's up for the debate if they truly did" NO, IT ISN'T!

We are shown how Buffy's feelings for Spike grow over time, how her dynamic with him changes, how she is actively choosing him over everybody else after he gets his soul, and both the character and the people involved in making the show EXPLICITLY SAY she loves him.

You can dislike it, but don't expect everyone else to cover their ears and close their eyes to pretend it wasn't clear that Spike's love for Buffy has not been one-sided for a VERY long time.

[wososcripts]

I've Been Getting Lost in Translation (Part Two)

(these kits are god awful but you didn't hear that from me)

stina blackstenius x reader; part one can be found here

Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.

A/N: Here's part two finally! I hope it's worth the wait for you all lol, make sure you read the first part as well as that author's note for clarity! As usual, nothing I write is intended to speculate or infringe upon player's personal lives, it's all 100% fiction and done in good fun.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings⚠️: very very slight mentions of anxiety and self-harm behaviors, but it really isn't featured here more than a passing mention

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You could feel Stina's eyes on you as you came down the stairs and joined the group in getting ready to go, you felt them on you in the car, and once you got to the skating rink. She never seemed to not be looking at you, sending worried little glances your way that you just couldn't interact with right now if you wanted to keep it together. 

"Here are Linnéa's extra skates." Stina's mom held out a pair of ice skates for you to grab. "I'm not sure they'll fit, but Stina said you were around the same size as her sister… otherwise you can rent a pair here." 

She gave you a warm smile and left you to try them on, already lacing up her own and taking off on the ice. 

It was a beautiful day, sunny and cold with a thick layer of snow on the ground from a couple of days ago. And the rink was amazing. It was well maintained, but still had the feeling of a pond you'd have skated on as a child. 

Stina's sister came to sit down next to you, explaining some of the quirks with the skates. You had to pull the laces hard to get them to fit in the clasps at the top before you could tie them, she showed you, yanking on your ankle a little roughly for your liking.

"Linnéa, be careful with her foot!" You heard Stina call from the ice. 

Linnéa waved her off, turning to you.

"Does it hurt?" 

You shook your head.

"That ankle is just a bit sensitive. I broke it in June." 

"Well the laces being tight will make sure that doesn't happen again," she laughed, then glanced to make sure Stina wasn't looking at you two and said something lowly to you. "How is she doing in London? I mean she says everything is going well, but it's hard to know when we're not there to see her."

You smiled, genuinely for the first time in hours.

"She's doing great. Everyone loves her, she's been playing fantastic this season, she gets along well with the coach and the players. I really don't think there's anything for you to worry about." 

"It's good that she has you and Amanda there. She seems reserved but without a few good people around her I know she gets lonely."

"What are you two slow pokes waiting for?" Stina's father skated by, gesturing for you to come on. 

Linnéa followed him, starting a conversation with him in Swedish you could hardly grasp onto. How this family managed to speak so quickly, you were lost on.

You joined the rest of them on the ice, trying to ignore your poor mood from earlier. Moping around was no way to make a first impression. So you tried to suck it up and let the joy of the moment overtake you. You hadn't skated in years, having played in Italy for a bit before moving to London. There never seemed to be enough time, or good rinks close by. And when you were back in Germany you mostly wanted to see your family and Laura. 

You ended up skating with Stina’s nephew, a boy around seven. He was already impressively steady on his skates, something you would not have been able to say at his age. But still, he held your hand and talked your ear off in Swedish you only partially understood. 

"Did you come with aunt Stina?" He asked, to which you nodded. 

"We play for the same football team in England." You explained in your slow Swedish.

"Did you come here on a plane?" You nodded again, smiling. 

"We flew here yesterday, from London."

The boy considered you for a moment.

"You speak funny," he proclaimed, letting go of your hand, "watch what I can do!" 

And with that he skated in front of you, circling around you playfully as you stood still. You grinned at him, giving a round of applause when he was done.  

“Hey,” you heard Stina come up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder as to not startle you. 

You gave her a smile which she softly returned. 

“What are you two up to?” 

“He’s showing me his incredible skating skills,” You replied.

Stina’s nephew nodded and twirled around again, clearly looking for more praise. 

Stina cheered him on, catching one of his hands and spinning him once more. 

“Very impressive,” she praised, “Unfortunately we’ve got to go eat some lunch. It’s getting dark out.” 

You looked up at the sky, having not realized that she was right, the sun was setting already. You checked your phone and saw it was barely one pm. 

Stina’s nephew nodded and shot forward ahead of you two, rushing back to where his parents were. 

“How are you doing?” Stina asked. 

You could tell she was still unsettled by what had happened earlier in the bathroom by how careful she was with you, how she treated each interaction tentatively. You felt badly for making her worry, for turning this visit with her family into yet another stressful situation rather than the relaxing break you both needed.

“I’m doing all right.” You gave the hand on your shoulder a squeeze and started to skate in the direction of the exit, a little further away from her than you would normally. 

You felt the distance seemingly in every stride you took, agonizing over your choice to move further from her. You were upset by the lack of any physical affection, and yet here you were removing even the chance that she might initiate it. It was self sabotage, you knew. Yet it was still difficult not to indulge in it. Whether she felt the distance as much as you did, you couldn’t know. 

“Why does Aunt Stina’s friend speak so funny?” You heard Stina’s nephew ask his mother, to which you couldn’t help but chuckle as she scolded him lightly. 

“She’s still learning Swedish, baby, she’s from Germany.”

“You’re from Germany?” The boy asked you once you were in front of him, skates in hand. He said it as if it were some far away land, not in the same continent. 

You nodded and ruffled his hair a bit, giving him a smile. You sat down on the bench, unlacing your skates and indulging the boy as he asked you several questions about Germany and what it was like there. You noticed Stina had a firm watch on you as you started to take your left skate off—the one that Linnéa had tugged on. It was aching a bit, that was true. But you simply massaged it for a moment and stood up like you couldn't feel a thing.

“Thanks again for lending me the skates,” You said to Stina’s mother, giving them back carefully. 

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The eight of you decided to eat at a small restaurant not far from the rink. Sunset was already in full force, vibrant orange and pink staining the sky around you.

Stina had borrowed her sister's car that morning, preferring not to be squished in the back seat all day. The drive over gave you a bit of privacy, which you spent in relative quiet, Stina's playlist playing softly through the car speakers. Her hand was on your thigh innocently, and every once in a while she glanced over. Maybe she expected you to say something. But you knew if you started now, you wouldn't be able to stop.

You were thankful for your sturdy sneakers as you stepped out of the car, a twinge in your ankle rippling up your leg. It was more sore than you would've expected, but nothing you were overly worried about. The doctor had warned you that some days might give you more trouble than others, and that was normal. You would just have to take care to ice it this evening before you went to bed. 

And by the looks of it, Stina would be making sure you did anyway. 

She was robbed of her chance to ask if it was bothering you by her nephew, who seemed to have taken a real liking to you. He came barreling at you, arms open for you to lift him up. You weren't all that tall, and he certainly had inherited his family's height, so lifting him was a bit complicated. Eventually the two of you decided on a piggy back after some awkward maneuvering. 

"He likes you," Stina's brother commented, tickling his son lightly. "He's normally quite reserved around new adults."

You smiled at him, feeling your heart soar. This, this was what you wanted from the trip. You wanted Stina's family to love you, for her not to have to worry about you fitting in or being accepted. 

"She's going to sit next to me!" The boy announced once the waiter had shown you to your booth.

"Do I need to be worried?" Stina joked, to which her nephew stuck out his tongue. 

She returned the favor playfully.

"No need to fight, there's plenty of me to go around."

The booth wasn't all that big, which was how you explained Stina's closeness. Most of your right side was pressed right up against hers, something you initially tried to rectify, only to receive a strange look from her. You cursed yourself for how unsure you were being. You'd spent months like this before the two of you had started dating and it nearly drove you (and your teammates) crazy. 

You let Stina order for you since she had been here before and she knew what you liked. The tiredness was beginning to hit you. It was dark outside now, and between skating for a few hours, entertaining a seven year old, and worrying over your relationship, you'd had quite the day. Thankfully you had ibuprofen in your bag in case of one of your headaches. 

Whatever Stina had ordered you looked delicious when it came out. You dug in, realizing then how hungry you were. Usually you had a snack in between breakfast and lunch particularly on training days.  

You were surprised to feel a hand on your knee a little while later. You were listening to a story her nephew was intently explaining to you as he colored in one of the books his mother brought for him, and suddenly it was there. It was something so completely normal you couldn't believe how much it shocked you. If anything, that was proof of how much you had gotten in your own head. Back home it would be impossible to imagine sitting next to Stina without her hand resting lightly on you somewhere. It helped ground her, she said. 

But now, your thoughts were racing with every move she made. Stina's fingers drummed absentmindedly on your thigh, the rhythm of them distracting you slightly from her nephew. She didn't usually tap unless she was feeling fidgety, which meant she was anxious. Was Stina feeling something similar to what you were? Was it out of anxiety that she was keeping things secret? The idea of your relationship inspiring such emotions in your girlfriend made the lump in your throat that much bigger. Maybe she was picking up on your mood. Stina had always been very perceptive (because she spent so much time quietly watching, you often teased) and seemed to pick up on your moods without issue. But you’d been trying to hide this. 

You caught her eye and sent her a quick smile. A piece of hair had fallen into her eyes and you wanted desperately to push it behind her ear as you normally would. But the gesture seemed too intimate now. It was as if you were in a glass cage, every move observed with the chance of exposing your feelings. But what was the problem in that, you asked yourself. You loved Stina, openly. Why were you letting this affect you so much? 

Stina's sister declared that she wanted to do a bit of shopping after lunch, which the rest of the group was perfectly amicable to. It wasn’t all that late, and you’d get a chance to see the Christmas market all lit up. Stina's nephew certainly hadn't taken much convincing once Linnéa mentioned stopping at the toy store to look at something.

"Am I your favorite now?" Linnéa asked him, looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

"Yes!" The boy cried, smiling wide.

"You can't buy true connection, Linnéa," you teased, still helping to color.

"Can't buy connection." The boy repeated wisely. "I still like Stina's friend too."

You smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, suggesting quietly in his ear that you move to another page and make a drawing for Stina. 

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Linnéa joined you and Stina in the car on the way back to their parent’s house, adding to the tension that had been building since the eight of you had gone shopping. Stina had stuck close to your side, and you’d done your best to act normally while keeping some distance. You needed to sort your head out, and being close to her wasn’t helping. Thankfully her nephew provided a good excuse to be tugged in all sorts of directions—he had decided you were his favorite once more, leaving Linnéa to hang behind with her siblings. 

Once you had reached the Christmas market, after a short detour in the toy store where you had agreed to get matching dragon plushies for you and the young boy, each of you wandered off on your own. You, Stina’s brother, and her nephew headed first for the big tree that had been decorated in the square while the rest went to get something hot to drink. You had managed to sneak off under the guise of having to find the toilet, Stina’s brother covering for you if you needed. You wanted to get a small gift for Stina, something in addition to what you’d already purchased. Most of it was back in London since bringing it all on the plane was a hassle. 

You’d found a perfect gift at a small stall tucked away near the edge of the market where an older woman was selling vintage jewelry. You picked through it slowly at first, not sure you would find anything. Most of it was too gaudy for Stina, and too impractical. But then you found a simple pendant with two stones in the middle—an amethyst and an opal, each of your birth stones, set in a complex circular pattern that reminded you a bit of some of the celtic designs Katie had shown you. You had purchased it immediately, no matter that it was overpriced. 

Now you were sat listening to Linnéa’s music quietly as the three of you drove, trying not to nod off. You were unsuccessful, because the next thing you remembered was being jolted awake by Linnéa’s door falling shut. You heard Stina chuckle next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, likely amused by how suddenly you had shot up. You chuckled along with her and patted her hand, putting your coat back on to brave the cold once more. 

“Is your ankle bothering you?” Stina asked you quietly as you all began to walk back to the house for dinner preparations. 

You thought that you had been hiding the slight limp in your walk well, certainly nobody else had noticed, but nothing escaped your girlfriend apparently. 

“Only a bit. I’ll ice it later and it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“You should’ve said something if it was hurting, I told Linnea to be careful—” she was beginning to ramble, but you cut her off. 

“Stina, it’s fine. I said I’m fine. I know what I can and cannot handle.” 

It was a lie, and the both of you knew it. You were a stubborn bastard. Stina had been with you through your recovery, through every incident where you pushed yourself too hard only to have to face the consequences. She’d found you on the kitchen floor, comforted you after a physio session, seen you train with the team for the first time again. It was insulting to allege she didn’t know when too much was too much.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, already feeling bad for snapping at her. It wasn’t fair, she didn’t even know what was wrong and you were what? Punishing her? 

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again. Do you know how horrible that was? To see you in that much pain?” Stina’s eyes were glossy with just the memory. 

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You and Stina didn’t talk much about your injury and recovery. It was still too fresh, barely more than a couple months old. The crack of your ankle, the blood, her tears, her gentle shaking hands, it was all still at the front of your mind. 

You were saved from having to formulate a response by Stina’s mother calling her to the kitchen. She left you, only looking back once to give you a slight smile, showing that the two of you were okay. But you knew the time to confront what was going on needed to come quickly. 

You sat with Stina’s brother on the sofa and watched some Swedish Christmas program mindlessly. Mostly you were thinking about how to go about talking to Stina later. “Directness is key”, Laura's voice reminded you. You just had to say it, without blaming anyone. Just focus on yourself, your feelings.

It wasn't clear how long you sat there quietly before dozing off again, but Stina’s nephew was the one to wake you for dinner, doing so by climbing into your lap. 

"It's dinner time." He said, poking at your shoulder. 

You forced your eyes open, giving him a drowsy smile. 

“Okay, Prinzi” you replied, picking him up off your lap so you could stand. He managed to hang on to your side though, and you ended up lifting him onto your hip anyway. 

Fuck, you cursed silently as you noticed your ankle was even more tender than when you had fallen asleep. You’d have to check for bruising later and keep off it for the rest of the night. But still, you carried Stina’s nephew to the table with ease, setting him in his seat next to his mother who shot you a sheepish smile. 

“Tired, aren’t you?” You heard a voice behind you, and then a gentle hand at your back. 

It was Stina, who smelled of something sweet in the kitchen. You wanted to lean back into her and not move for the rest of the night. Instead you just nodded. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“You’ve been playing babysitter all day, that might be part of it.” She smiled. 

You nodded in agreement, a smile on your face as well.

"You're so good with him," she whispered into your ear, "it's adorable."

You had caught her taking pictures of you with her nephew a couple times throughout the day, and now, as you briefly as her phone light up with notification, it seemed she had set one of them as her lockscreen.

"I try my best. He's a good kid."

"Well, he's in good hands."

Dinner was delicious, but relatively uneventful. After an entire day together everyone was happy to sit quietly and enjoy the food. Stina’s nephew joked with you a couple times, still wanting all of your attention, but even he seemed to be winding down for the night.

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After the table was cleared and the dishes had been washed (a task delegated to Stina’s brother this time), the group splintered off. Linnéa was going out to meet with a few friends, Stina’s brother and his family had to go home before it got too late, and Stina’s parents had settled in the living room. The two of you were welcome to join, they offered, for a nightcap. But it was clear that maybe you and Stina needed some alone time. 

So you bid everyone good night, thanking them for a wonderful day, and giving Stina’s nephew a big hug goodbye (even though you would be seeing him the next day). You tried to prepare for what you knew was a difficult discussion coming your way. In and out, you tried to remind yourself.

“Go ahead, I’ll be in in a minute,” Stina told you when you reached the bedroom door.

You nodded, thankful for the extra minute to think. The room was quiet around you. You felt the quilt beneath your hands, taking another deep breath. You didn’t need to overthink this. It was simple. And Stina loved you, you reminded yourself. 

There was a knock at the door, after which Stina slowly opened it and slipped inside. She had a bag of ice in her hands, presumably for your ankle. Already you felt tears spring to your eyes.

“Here, for your foot.” 

She lifted your leg, grabbing a chair for you to prop it up on, and pressed the ice to it.  

“So,” Stina paused, still standing before you, “What’s wrong?” You opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could say anything. “And don’t say it’s nothing, I can tell it isn’t. And I want to know, I want you to tell me, whatever it is.” 

You chuckled internally at the similarity to Laura’s demand earlier. Stina knew you too well for you to hide from her either. That made your heart ache a little bit. 

Your lack of response seemed to signal to Stina that you needed more convincing because she knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in hers. 

“What were you doing in the bathroom earlier? Why did you look so upset? All day, I can see you trying to hide it, but I know you’re hiding something. It hurts me too, to see you like that. It’s like a thorn in my ribs.” 

Your lip trembled, and you bit down hard on your cheek until you could feel blood in your mouth. It rushed onto your tongue, the metallic taste distracting you from the urge to cry. Stina had caught your gaze, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Do your parents know we’re together?” Your voice held steady as you asked. 

Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. Stina let out an airy chuckle, looking relieved. You brought your gaze to the floor, eyes wetting rapidly, which Stina quickly noticed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” She brought a hand up to your face, brushing the hair away from it. She sat next to you, moving up from where she was kneeling, and pulled you into her. “Look at me.” She put a finger under your chin, drawing your gaze to hers. The sight of your eyes nearly broke her heart. She hadn’t seen your face crumple in on itself like this since you were injured. The idea that something she had done could have caused you pain like that made her feel indescribably awful. 

“Of course they know, of course they do.”

You let out a sigh of relief, putting your head in your hands. You felt a hand on the back of your neck, rubbing the skin there tenderly.

“Then why have you been so…distant all day? And yesterday? This morning at breakfast, I couldn’t even hold your hand. It seemed like you didn’t want your family to see us together. I thought maybe you… I don’t know, that you were unsure of us, or afraid, or—” 

“That’s not it, I promise,” she said, wiping a tear away that had fallen from your eye. Fuck, you hated crying this much. “It’s just odd for me to be affectionate in front of my parents. They never were very touchy with each other in front of us, so it just feels like some unspoken rule. And then when my brother married his wife, they were the same way. But I promise, tomorrow I’ll try—”

You shook your head. You could tell Stina was upset too now, and you didn't want that. That wasn't the point of this. Tears continued to stream from your eyes, and you continued to swipe harshly at them.

“No, no. It’s all right. I don’t need you to be affectionate in front of them, I understand. It just seemed strange when I didn’t know the reason. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Stina seemed at a loss for a moment, truly shocked. She pulled you into a kiss, pressing her lips firmly against yours once, twice, three times before pulling back.

“You’re in this house too. And we’re a team: you don’t just have to do things the way we do. I’m supposed to meet you in the middle, okay? We’re in a relationship—if something hurts you, or is important to you, I want to know.” 

You nodded, squeezing her hand as a small thanks. The taste of blood trickled through your mouth, reminding you of the wound. You did your best to swallow it down. 

“Come on, let’s get you into something more comfortable,” Stina said, helping you up. 

She opened the dresser, looking for some of the pants you had brought. When she turned around, in her hands were a pair of grey sweats and one of her long sleeve Swedish national team shirts. 

“Sit,” she requested, pointing at the bed. 

You followed, sitting and allowing her to help you undress. It was totally non-sexual, Stina was wholly concerned in caring for you. Once you were dressed in the casual clothes she had picked out, Stina returned to your side, your ankle in her lap as she massaged the skin gently. 

“Was that what made you think I hadn’t told them?”

“It seems silly… but I also overheard them talking to your aunt in the kitchen last night.” You took a breath, trying to banish the tears for good. “I know my Swedish isn’t that good, but I was doing my best to keep up, and they kept referring to me as your friend, your friend, Stina’s friend.” 

Stina looked at you, confused. 

“They did? What did they say?” 

You did your best to repeat the word, cringing at your own pronunciation. 

“Väninna?” She repeated, and you nodded. “Who told you that means friend?”

“Amanda.” you replied, “She said it was like a female friend.” 

Stina shook her head, laughing. 

“What?” You asked, a bit indignant. 

“It does mean that. But it also means girlfriend. I don’t think Amanda thought you’d ever run into the word. It’s a bit old fashioned.” Stina explained. 

“Oh…” you said, feeling very stupid, and very relieved. 

“Come here,” Stina said, leaning back against the headrest and gesturing for you to settle against her. She grabbed the bag of ice on your foot and shifted it to lie comfortably again. “I’m sorry you had to go through the day thinking I’d invited you here under friendly pretenses.” 

You could tell she was making fun of you, just a little, but that there was sincerity in her voice too. One of her hands crept under your shirt, resting comfortingly on your stomach. 

“I hope you don’t treat all your friends like you did yesterday morning.” You replied, snuggling closer to her. For the first time in days your head wasn’t full of doubts, and you could relax wholly. You just wanted to enjoy her warmth around you. You had faith that tomorrow would be great, that you could finally enjoy your time here the way you were meant to.

She chuckled, hugging you closer to her and pressing a kiss to your upward-turned lips. 

“No, definitely not. I usually have better decision making skills around most people.” 

“I guess I’m just special then, huh?”

[lavender-romancer]

Deceiver

Part Seven Tommy Shelby x Reader CW: slow burn, arguing

You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.

an: set in season one

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

As you stirred awake you looked up, there were a considerable amount of cobwebs on the support beam running through the center of your room. Their delicate intricacies were illuminated by a stream of morning sunlight through your curtains. It was so beautiful but your mood this morning just made you want to dust it all away. Today was Cheltenham.

One comfort of this awful day was that you could take some aggression out on some Lee boys, whilst Tommy would be prancing around with Grace doing fuck knows what. No, you had to try and control your anger on the subject. It wasn't worth all your thoughts and anyways you had to meet Arthur, John and Johnny.

"Eddie," Arthur yelled, getting your attention in the dockyard, "What's our mission?"

"To fucking stick it to the Lee boys!" You announced with a smirk towards John.

"That's right. The Lees are skimming money off legal bookies. Running chalk, selling rafflers, beating up bookies. But today, we're going to stop them." Arthur raised his stick, "Anyone with a gun, we won't be using it unless it's pulled on you. Take what you have, whatever it is. Let's fuck up the Lee boys, lads!"

You all loaded into a van, with you, Arthur and John in the front. It was 60 miles to Cheltenham and no matter how much you talked to the boys, all you could think about was Tommy and Grace in a car together. No matter how much Arthur hammered the point of this being 'Tommys Army' you struggled to get excited when you knew you wanted to be the pretty blonde girl dancing with him in a nice new outfit. Not that you'd want to wear a dress but-fuck- you were so insanely jealous of the barmaid you didn't know what to do with yourself.

Even when Tommy reassured you that there was nothing between him and Grace, all you could see was them kissing in the light of the bar when you opened the room to the booth. How did you get here? Obsessed with a man who couldn't or wouldn't commit to you, you were more likely to grow old with Thomas as his friend or mistress.

Looking out of the window the shouting coming from the boys faded into white noise. Closing your eyes you saw Tommy's smile. You didn't want to be his friend, you didn't want to wait forever but you knew he should be with her because you couldn't compete. It wasn't as if you could blame Grace for it all anymore, she was a convenient scapegoat but not one that made sense. There was something between Tommy and Grace that he wouldn't admit to you, and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't anything new, you often had to separate your life and the possibility of love.

Love doesn't last the way respect and job security do, it can be fickle and easily betrayed which were eventualities you couldn't afford. You were used to being alone, but you weren't used to being as vulnerable as you would be if you ever lived your life as a woman.

Tommy was dancing with Grace, their bodies close and moving in time with one another. He did keep looking over at Kimber's table but couldn't help but feel Grace's body against his. She was an easy choice, a safe one. There were no complications he knew of, she was beautiful and wanted him. But you. He dreamt of you. He had to stop himself from seeing you every single night. There was such an undeniable magnetism between the two of you that Tommy struggled to justify considering choosing Grace over you. There were complications but who gave a fuck about that?

He dipped Grace in the choreography of the lively dance and she smiled, it was so ridiculously beautiful. Tommy couldn't help but smile slightly back, pulling her back up. She laughed softly and Tommy bowed his head so he wouldn't laugh in return. There was a part of him that wanted to kiss her, wanted to fuck her and move on from there. He craved immediate gratification and Tommy couldn't seem to let you give that to him. The lust feeling was intoxicating, being able to look you up and down but knowing he wouldn't take it any further. Even when he was drunk he only kissed your hand, it was pathetic. But Tommy wanted you to understand how deeply he cared for you, that he didn't want to just fuck you and leave it at that. But Tommy failed to explain this to you and it led to a horrific case of crossed wires.

You'd got the stolen money off all Lees boys by this point chased them off the track and down to Devon road, they were long gone, some by persuasion, most by force…. But realistically it came with the territory of a blinder, cut off an ear here, punch someone in the face there. It would be on the job description.

"We need to get this all back to Tommy." Arthur said, holding the 7 napsacks over his shoulder as you, him and John stood under a stairwell and smoked.

"I'll take it." You said all too quickly and the brothers snickered.

"Someone wants to see his man." John smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't get too jealous of Grace." Arthur couldn't stifle his laughter as he handed the napsack to you, the two of them keeling over laughing with jokes about you and Tommy. You just snatched the bags and walked up the stairwell to the agreed meeting point.

Seeing Tommy poke his head around the door and smile at you sent a warm feeling around your whole body. It only seemed to dissipate when you saw Grace, you dropped the bags at his feet and glanced at her before going back to Tommy.

"Any problems?" Tommy asked, looking you up and down without letting Grace see.

"None. We got it all back and ran the Lee boys off the tracks. A few cuts and bruises but nothing major." You smiled at him and the two of you took a moment, just looking at one another lovingly before snapping out of it.

"Get Arthur to buy all the boys a pint, I'll see you later." He gave you a smirk before you shut the door.

Standing on the other side of the door, you almost jumped up and down from the way he looked at you. The man looked like he wanted to rip everything off you and take you right then and there. It was impossible to forget, even when you were sitting back in the Garrison a few hours later. Every so often you'd take a sip of your beer, but mostly you stared into space and thought of his eyes.

"Now, should I guess who you're daydreaming about or just come out and say it?" John laughed and sat next to you at the bar.

"You can keep your mouth shut," you smiled, "What do you think of Grace?" You asked after a pause.

"Great set of legs." John raised an eyebrow.

"No, idiot. I mean, she doesn't seem suspicious to you, comes out of nowhere trying to help with the business and now she's working for us all because she's a liar? Seems odd." You shrugged.

"Think you're just being paranoid and a little bit jealous. Personally I don't think she really does much, has no excitement in her life, this gives her some shit to do." John took a drink of his pint and lit a cigarette.

"When she is finally found out for being a deceiver, we'll only have men and their cocks to thank." You said, exasperated with John. How he could immediately assume you were jealous without a second thought. "If you didn't know I was a woman would you still question me like this or just take it at face value?" You said close to his ear before walking out of the door.

You were sick of the teasing, you had tried to tell yourself that they didn't treat you differently but it wasn't true. They just saw you as some sort of scorned woman, who wasn't capable of thinking straight. You weren't being jealous. Were you? No, she was suspicious and it didn't make sense that she came out of nowhere. Walking in the chill of night your chest heaved, what could she and Tommy possibly be doing? Was it all fooling him as well? Your brain felt so foggy it was impossible to think straight, all you wanted was to get home.

Tommy was sitting on the doorstep in front of your house and in the moment you just wanted to run up and kiss him. His face was so beautifully lit by the moonlight, with a slight smile on his lips he looked so pretty. But, instead you walked past him and unlocked your front door, leaving it ajar for him. You walked straight up to your room to unbind your chest, it had been an extremely long day.

After changing into a looser fitting men shirt you went back downstairs and found Tommy with two glasses of whisky in hand sitting on the settee. You gratefully sat down next to him and took the glass, whilst the whisky you owned was a shocking quality it still took the edge off more than a pint.

"How did today go?" He asked you.

"We got all the money, if that's what you mean." You directed a polite slightly unfeeling smile in his direction, our head felt like it was going to burst open with anger because of how John had spoken to you. "How was Grace?"

"She did her job. Looked pretty and danced with Kimber." Was all that he said, you couldn't help but assume ther was more he could say about her but didn't. You just sat holding the glass in your lap and looking down at the liquid through the crystal shapes in the glass. It was so distorted that staring at it this closely was giving you a headache. You placed the glass back on the table in front of you with a slight clink and returned to your position. Hands in your lap, looking down at them in silence because you didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right thing to say without coming off as jealous. Because regardless of what the Shelby boys said about your apparent jealousy, Tommy's connection with Grace just made you sad. You wanted the day out at the races, the hurried sexual favours in a side room, the openness in society.

At this point whilst you considered growing your hair out and stopping binding your chest, what would be the point if the person you were doing it for couldn't commit? He claimed that he would die for you but he was happy to kiss Grace, happy to fade into a silhouette of nothing as she stifled his light. He wouldn't commit to you whilst he still wanted to get his dick wet and not give you the time to be in society as a woman at your own pace. The silence was pounding in your ears, consuming your body in a cold blanket of insecurity. You could only think about how he could be normal with Grace, live a normal life. It would be boring and he might not be happy but it would be normal.

"Y/n?" Tommy said softly and you nodded in acknowledgement. "What's going on?" He asked in a confused tone.

"I just… I don't know why you're wasting your time with me. Maybe wasting is the wrong word, but you only have so long in this life and I don't know if we can give eachother what the other needs." Your eyes were hurting with the amount you were straining them so you didn't cry.

"Do you want me?” He said, making it sound so simple and you brought your eyes up to his- so much emotion and hurt was shown with this one look that Tommy felt taken aback, had he hurt you? "If you want me, then we give each other what the other needs."

"I don't want to be someone you can't commit to." You said quietly, looking back at your hands in your lap. "You're going to forget about me and marry someone without all the complications. Someone like Grace is perfect for you."

"I've told you before that Grace is not your concern." Was all he said and you couldn't help but scoff.

"Alright Tommy. You can stay to finish the bottle if you really want to, but I don't know if there's anything else for us to talk about now." You stood up and looked at him with tearful eyes. Why couldn't he understand how you felt about him, why couldn't he understand how deeply you cared for him?

"Y/n," he said in a soft tone and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from flowing.

"What else is there to say?" You asked quietly.

"Nothing happened." He paused. "Between me and Grace, since that night when you saw…" you got a horrific flashback of seeing Grace and Tommy kissing.

"But you still don't want to commit to me do you." It wasn't even really a question, more of a statement.

"Why do you assume that?" He placed his glass on the table in front of him next to yours, they were closer than the two of you felt right now.

"Because of how you act, Thomas and because I know you. You don't want a complicated personal life when your business life's complicated enough." You held your forearm with your other hand, feeling insecure in front of a Tommy that seemed more vulnerable.

"You've never asked me to commit to you, not in those words anyways." Tommy stood up and took a step towards you, your eyes were fixed on a point on the floor where the wood was cracked and splintering. "I've wanted you for years now. Ever since I met you it's been the same, there's always been something."

“If I finally live as myself I lose all independence, if you leave me after I live as a woman I won't have any agency! You don't understand how much anxiety that creates for this whole situation, it's not just about fucking feelings.” You paused and ran a hand down your face, tears forming in your eyes, “It's about the rights I have over myself, men won't treat me the same, I'll never be viewed the same by anyone. I'll never be able to walk home alone without being scared, I'll be posing as someone I've never been! I've lived this way for so long it's comfortable, and unless you can prove that you want only me then-”

“Y/n,” Tommy held your shoulders in both of his hands, “you can dress however you want, have the same job, fuck, you can get a better paid one in the company. You'll still be my right hand person regardless of how you live. I've never been able to control you and I don't intend to try and start. There has always been a part of my soul connected to yours, Y/n.” You were still looking at the splintered wood.

“How much room in your soul do you have when you desire two people?” You sounded malicious and honestly it wasn't intentional because most of what Tommy spouted sounded like lip service to get you to be complacent.

“What?” He asked, his hands falling from your shoulders.

“You heard what I said,” you walked past Tommy and sat down on the sofa, pouring yourself another poor quality whiskey. After downing two glasses your throat burned in a satisfying way that distracted you from your head.

“Why do you think I'm here? Practically begging you to give me some time.” He let out a long sigh.

“You feel the same way I feel about you about her. I know that's what is really in your soul. Even though she doesn't love you, she isn't truthful, she's so deceitful but you can't see past your hard cock long enough to realise. You fucking know I'm in love with you, I'm convinced you've known it the whole time. But it's more exciting to string two people along than commit to anyone. You can perpetuate your tortured heart narrative and everyone feels sorry for you, well I don't care anymore. Do whatever you fucking want, fuck her, fuck me. Everything's controlled by you and you love it.” You picked up the bottle of whiskey and started drinking straight from it. Leaving Tommy to stand there not knowing what to do. The two of you existed in a sort of social limbo for a few minutes before Tommy sat down next to you and you offered him the whiskey bottle.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Taglist: @kathrinemelissa @wolfieellsworld @archivallyfound09 @hopefulinlove @globetrotter28 @buttercup32sstuff @teamfreeavacados @just-a-blackhole @sabbbyn @sillyfreakfanparty @lovelyreader22 @leaked-adrenaline @ghxst-heart @bat-luna-cat @emily-roberts @thattransgayscout @cristina-01 @pockeymcmockey @moonshooter @horror-eye @hiatuswhore @missmunscn @slaypussypop-21 @slutforcoffein @lovemisshoneybee @louderfortheback @faye777 @pastthetreesandstars @gimmie-tea Peaky Blinders Taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 @lovemisshoneybee

[gumbootillustrations]

dame katelyn de feu my beloved 😭😭😭

more bits under the cut!!

katelyn first shows up to phoenix drop towards the end of season one under similar circumstances to canon mcd - jeffory's about to be executed for treason, and she's desperately trying to get his name cleared before he dies. however, when it becomes clearer and clearer to her that zane's using him as a scapegoat, she decides to turn on him and side with aphmau and the phoenix alliance ahead of the battle for phoenix drop.

in ashes, ashes, jurors were originally ordained through the bestowal of relics - however, after they went missing a couple of centuries after the first war of the magi, they pretty much became just. super politically powerful guards until about twenty years before the start of ashes, ashes, when the high priest of o'khasis at the time (zane's predecessor) figured out a way to bestow the powers of the juror relics to the jurors without using the relics themselves. anyway, its blood magick and it essentially brands the jurors with a seven-pointed star on their foreheads as a mark of the ritual being completed. katelyn hates what the ritual has turned her into - even though long hair is lowkey pretty impractical in a fight, she keeps hers long so that her mark is hidden (jeffory did the same, and garroth will also grow his hair out a little to cover his mark). when she transforms, a lot of the saturation in her skin in hair is drained out due to the magick not being suuuper holy (in fact, the first casting of the ritual upset the balance of the universe so much that it woke up the primordial gods n they sicked a plague on o'khasis that garte would later blame on tu'lan biological warfare). additionally, because the magick of the ritual sort of like. blends in? with any magicks or witchcraft already present in the juror their juror form will reflect this - katelyn has fire magicks, so when she transforms, her hair turns into this sort of sickly pale blue fire. her fire is hot enough that it burns blue anyway, but yeah.

katelyn burns her juror armour the minute she can once everyone gets out of the irene dimension. for a while, she just wears whatever she can scrounge up from around phoenix drop, but when cadenza finds out about this she gives katelyn this outfit! it's definitely done out of the kindness of her heart, there definitely aren't any ulterior motives don't worry. it's a lot more of a mercenary-ish look compared to her juror armour, but katelyn likes it just fine - especially since a certain flame-haired seamstress with a winning smile made it especially for her.

a little headcanon i have about katelyn - i feel like even though she isn't great at sewing, having grown up in a minor noble house in o'khasis, i feel like she would have some skills with textiles. specifically, i feel like she'd knit and/or crochet in her down time! before everyone heads out to gal'ruk, she knits everyone some mittens/scarves/socks/etc. not sweaters, though - she's loathe to admit it, but she's a firm believer in the sweater curse. otherwise, nothing much changes except that she throws on a coat and calls it a day - i like to think that, similar to laurance, she runs a little hotter than most people due to her fire magicks sort of acting as a bit of an internal furnace, so she doesn't need to bundle up quite as much as the others.

her day-to-day outfit is pretty much her standard guard outfit without the armour. she does wear an underbust corset/belt/thing with a small pouch attached, though - its very useful for carrying around knickknacks n stuff. otherwise, there's not much else to really comment on? idk. i probably shouldve added in some scars on her arms but its 11:30 pm at the time im writing this n ive spent way too long on this dang ref sheet already so yeah.

i decided to change up her conqueror form quite a bit - the form i drew in my original lineup of the second war's divine warriors wasn't really katelyn n looking back on it i shouldve spent more time trying to get it right. anyway, katelyn's mother was from southern tu'la, and was from a merchant family with some distant blood ties to the royal family - katelyn is technically related to the king of tu'la, but the relation is so distant that she doesn't really consider him (or any of the tu'lan nobles, really) to be blood relations. it's through this lineage, though, that she's able to resonate with menphia's relic, although it definitely helps that she's the second war's incarnation of the conqueror. mostly, the design notes from her first conqueror design remain the same - all i've really done is change the colour palette.

aaaand some headshots. i haven't exactly worked out how she got her facial scars - the big one was probably gotten on her first major assignment as a juror. however, it's nasty enough that when it healed it sort of fucked up her facial muscles - the scar tissue has permanently warped the right side of her mouth into a grimace, so anytime she makes a facial expression it's pretty lopsided (it's especially noticeable when she smiles). also, i changed the titling system for the jury to be more similar to the commonwealth knighthood system? like as much as i think "lady katelyn" is sick as fuck, the fact that it's the same title used for the female spouses of lords just sorta,,, didn't sit right? i guess? so yeah. dame katelyn.

anyway, feel free to ask questions if u want! :D

[nexus-my-beloved]

Alright, welcome to my ramble about why Five/Lila in s4 makes absolute complete sense and why everyone tearing it down and making derogatory remarks make me ridiculously angry when they refuse to really think about it.

UMBRELLA ACADEMY S4 SPOILERS !

One of the biggest things I'm seeing people do/say about season 4 is that adding a love interest for Five ruined it or that Five "wouldn't do that" and that it was extremely out of character. At a glance, yes, that can make sense, but if you stop to think about it for five seconds longer than it becomes increasingly apparent that it MAKES SENSE.

Another thing people keep complaining about it the fact that Five was being a homewrecker/Five was being an awful person/etc. What people are doing is they are neglecting to acknowledge the fact that the relationship was as much as Five's persistence as it was Lila's. Lila was not roped into a relationship, she was just as much into it as he was! If you are going to call out Five, remember that you need to call out Lila, too.

Now that my baseline points are out there, let me explain:

When Five was in the apocalypse the first time, he felt completely alone in a barren wasteland. He was isolated, and young, and he wanted to get back to his family to save them. While he waited, though, he grew extremely attached to the first thing he could that gave him any kind of company: Dolores. He cared about her and even loved her, to a degree, proven by how he threatened to shoot Luther in s1 for trying to drop her out a window and by how he kissed the hallucination of a human Dolores when under the influence of Jayme's hallucination venom. Whether the love was real or not, he felt that it was, and it was a result of forced proximity and a lonely person wanting affection ("we only had each other")

When Five ended up trapped in the subway, he was lonely in yet another wasteland with more dangers than before. He felt isolated from the world around him, wanted to get back home to save his family (sound familiar yet?) but this time he was years older. He and Lila spent seven years on that subway, alone, together, and as would happen with forced proximity they got close. (I've heard people argue that they would've had a good sibling dynamic and that the romance ruined it, but the parallels between Lila and Dolores here are kind of obvious, I thought.) Five got attached to Lila, cared about her, and grew to love her (again, whether it was true love or not, that didn't matter when he thought he loved her, at least). In fact, throughout the entire show, Five has never smiled like he did when he was with Lila. He was happy. He did love her.

Often, Five is the one blamed for the relationship (that I have seen; I haven't yet seen ANYONE say Lila was also at fault). The issue is, Lila was the one who was married, the one who had kids, and yet she encouraged the relationship anyway. She didn't think she would get back to Diego, after a while. They were making the best of what they had, and personally, I don't think anything is wrong with the fact they had a relationship while in the subway - neither of them thought they would get home. Lila wasn't intending to cheat, she just didn't think she'd be able to get back to them and wasn't going to spend the rest of her life miserable. Five wasn't intending to play homewrecker, he fell in love and she encouraged it - what was he supposed to do? They were together of their own free wills. I think it's alright that they were together, but if you're going to blame anyone about it, both of them deserve blame because both of them were equal parts into the relationship.

I have heard people say that the stopping to rest was out of character and that it wasn't the same Five who fought 45 years in an apocalypse to get back to his family. That's the thing, though, isn't it? Five has done nothing but work to save his family since he was thirteen years old. 45 years in an apocalypse, a hellish two-ish weeks between saving them from a falling moon, WWIII in the 60s, and trying to get them out of a hotel that was hellbent on killing them. Then, when they get out, no powers, they all go their separate ways and he is no longer right with his family. He spends six years without them, working for the CIA, because working is all he knows how to do now (it's clear he hardly has a life for himself, seeing as everyone else's life was shown but Five had nothing outside of work), and when he gets put in another apocalypse for seven years you all are mad at him for wanting to have a break? For wanting something domestic? At face value, yes, it seems out of character, and it seems slightly selfish compared to his past actions, but when you really think about it IT MAKES SENSE HE'D WANT A BREAK. His life since he was 13 has been dictated by running himself ragged for his family's sake and now he might not be able to get home (similar to how it was in his first apocalypse). He's not at fault for wanting to go somewhere that he can rest. Wanting to have some sense of domesticity with Lila isn't bad.

The entire arc made sense! Five and Lila shared an experience with the commission. Both of them had been subject to The Handler and they could bond over it. Both had been through different apocalypses/problems (Hotel Oblivion, Lila was there in the sixties, they were now in the subway together) together, and both knew what it was like to get irritated by a crazy family (both, consequently, being subject to the Hargreeves). Sure, they fought in the past, and in past seasons their relationship would have never worked, but in that subway? In the subway it made sense. In fact, the show could have gone well either with or without their relationship, but adding in the relationship added to the watcher feeling the same level of defeat as Five did at the end. Losing everything, now having to lose his life, it gives the watcher empathy after watching the breakup.

Truly, I haven't seen anyone say that Five deserved sympathy for the breakup. He did deserve it, though: he was made to fall in love with Lila, and then the moment she found out they could go home, she was running off to leave like she was ready to ignore that they ever happened. He had been in love with her, made her gifts, called her "love", said that he "aimed to please" as he tried to make her happy, held her so gently when he'd kiss her because he was sweet and tender and this was the first real love he'd gotten to have, and he wanted to do it right. Then, the moment he told her she could go home, she was ready to leave, and she looked him in the eyes and said that "it was survival", practically throwing his heart to the ground and shattering it. They'd spent seven years together and he'd grown to love her and she made it seem like she was just biding her time and never truly loved him in the first place. Imagine how he must have felt? And yet he still loved her anyway. He'd known that she had been annoyed with Diego sometimes, and because he was in love and upset after getting his heart broken it made SENSE that he'd be bitchy towards Diego. Yes, she was Diego's wife, but Five was in love with her, and he was jealous that after everything they went through Diego still got to have her. He fought Diego to get out that frustration, even if (in my heart of heart's) it wasn't really frustration at Diego, but instead just generalized feelings of hurt. He dealt with it the way he dealt with things in the past: he fought. Five was forced to be a fighter, and it was the end of the world, it's not like he'd allow himself to cry. If anything, Five fighting Diego was the MOST in character thing they could've done after that, and yet people are upset at him for fighting his brother! That final "it's over, Five" that Lila said after breaking up the fight broke his heart, you could see that, in both his face and the way he blipped to the subway, ready to leave. He was heartbroken, there didn't seem to be a way to end this apocalypse, and again, Five wanted to rest. He loved her, she hurt him, and yet he STILL held her when she broke down after sending her family and the kids away on the train. He was strong, but you could tell he was hurting.

Their relationship wouldn't have worked anywhere besides the subway but it happening there made perfect sense, it made for a good feeling of Five experiencing defeat and the idea that he could never truly be loved, by family or otherwise. (Dolores couldn't reciprocate, Lila tossed him aside the second she could go home, Reginald surely was no father figure and there's no doubt he likely didn't see Grace as much of a mother, his siblings were always upset with him for some reason or other even if he was just trying to save them and out of this whole time, I believe he's only ever been called a good brother twice. He only got told that twice after his years of suffering for his family's sake.)

So, in conclusion, the Five/Lila arc made sense, it fit well with the story, there were good implications if you bother to think about them, Lila was just as much at fault as Five, Five was NOT super out of character for being a man just wanting a break (he even said it himself, it was a break, not giving up), and I'm so sick of hearing people just talk shit about them. Thank you for coming to my ramble, if you were a hater before, I hope I changed your mind, and to everyone that agrees with me thank you.

[concussed-to-pieces]

Wolves At The Door; Epilogue

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. 

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our final installment! I'd like to thank you all for reading, and for having faith in me to see this through safe and sound. Never fear, you will always have your happy ending 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List:  @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale @jackie-loves-yalls-writing @simplysolo @teeheemax

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

8. Backslide

9. Tender Gray Light

10. Hubris’ Weight

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of mental and physical duress and sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

You hadn't been counting, but if you had, it would have been sixty-seven days. Sixty-seven days since Karl had vanished, sixty-seven days since you had heard another human's voice or even seen another person. 

Sixty-seven days. You weren't counting. 

Spring was fully upon the forest, buds erupting on the trees and the river swollen with runoff from the melting snow. It was one of your busiest times of the year between scavenging fallen trees, resetting the snares and sorting through your seeds to plant. You were extremely busy and you didn't think about it at all.

Not even when the Duke made his first appearance of the season.

…

“It brings me joy to see you once more, my dear! This winter was long and harsh.” The large man exclaimed, mopping his sweaty face with a handkerchief. “I'm wondering if you might assist me with a small problem. It seems someone may have suffered a bit of an incident, a turn of bad luck.” 

Despite this being the thing he always said when he had found an animal for you to nurse, your heart still gave a traitorous little jump in your chest. That is, of course, until a small doe limped around the rear of the cart. 

“What's wrong, my dear?” The Duke queried, and when you glanced at him his expression was strangely stoic. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, I…” You hesitated. “I guess not. What's happened to this little girl?”

“She claims that she got her fore left leg caught in the fork of a tree. The woods have been so peaceful as of late though that, aside from the pain, she wasn't scared,” the Duke mused thoughtfully, a swollen hand resting gently on the animal's head. “Apparently her leg would have been broken had she panicked. She had to remain still for several hours to get free.”

You were always entertained by the way the merchant acted like he could understand the woodland creatures he brought to you, but if nothing else he clearly had a way with them. The black horse that drew his cart, for instance, had never balked or shied away in all the times that the Duke had rattled his wares around behind the creature's head. 

You squinted upwards at the Duke. “So I'm salving and wrapping her leg?”

“Indeed, a simple fix.” He bent down, giving you a look so intent it made you a little uncomfortable. “And I'll give something to you as a token of my appreciation.”

“Huh?”

He simply winked, then gestured at the doe. 

You were burning with curiosity. What could he be granting you? And for free, no less! Ablaze with possibilities you didn't dare hope for, you nonetheless dutifully tended to the small scrape on the deer's thin leg.

“A familiar task for you, I'd wager.” The Duke finally spoke again, cigar smoke wafting around his head like a cloud. You gave him a confused look, quirking your brow, yet his face remained amicably bland. 

You eventually settled back onto your haunches, wiping a few beads of sweat from your brow. While the weather had yet to truly warm up, the sunlight was beaming through the still-leafless trees. 

The doe staggered to her feet, bleating at you loud enough to make you jump. The Duke laughed as if in reply, that large hand landing on the animal's head once more. “Off you get now, little hind. You know the way home.” He murmured, giving her another pat before she departed. “She said thank you, by the by.” The large man informed you almost absently, already searching through his pockets for another cigar.

“Oh of course,” was your dry response, making him chuckle. “What's with all this cryptic stuff, though?”

“Ah, to business.” The Duke rubbed his hands together, his rings jangling discordantly as he did. “A favorite subject. Regrettably my gift is nothing really physical, it is instead a message.” His keen eyes felt suddenly sharp, as though he was seeing through your soul itself. “That iron horse does not forget its master so easily, especially one so gracious as you, my dear.”

You stared up at him blankly. Horse? What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

The Duke seemed entertained by your bewilderment, the man grinning and leaning back on the bench of his cart. “Perhaps it would be more apt to dub him the feral mutt you've brought to heel. After all, kindness and a warm meal are lures potent enough to drag in even the most stoic of men.”

“That's not funny.” You said in a curt tone, hating that you could feel your lower lip quivering slightly. “I…that's not funny, Mr. Duke.”

He was abruptly serious. “I don't jest lightly, my dear.”

“Then why would you say that?!” You snapped, getting to your feet and dusting off the knees of your pants. “I didn't help out just so you could sit up there and make fun of me-”

“My dear I assure you, I'm as sincere as the day is long.” The Duke insisted, knocking some ash from the end of his cigar. “Call it a…perhaps a merchant's intuition. After all, it's important to have a certain level of foresight, to be able to read the ebbs and flows of the market and adjust to demand ahead of schedule. How else would I keep my clientele?” 

“You're not making any sense.” You growled, now frustrated with your corpulent visitor.

He tipped his head back, expelling another waft of smoke upwards. “Have a little faith, will you? Creature of habit that you are, have faith in the unseen, the unknown.” The Duke jabbed his cigar at you. “Or continue to wallow in your discontent, counting the days that you claim mean nothing.”

You recoiled physically as if he had struck you, taking in a deep breath to deny his words. But instead all that came out was a soft, pitiful, “I miss him.”

The Duke nodded, oddly sympathetic all of a sudden. “Have faith, my dear.” He clasped your hand between his own enormous paws, eyes sincere. “The spring is upon us, and new life grows eternal in these woods. Keep your lanterns lit.”

…

Damn, it's quiet. 

It echoed in his ears, a looping nothingness like static. Abruptly his heartbeat interrupted it, thudding deafeningly in his skull. What the hell had the good-for-nothing organ been doing before that?!

The beat was slow, much slower than it ought to be. His thoughts were barely there, sluggish and disjointed. 

Rain hammering what was once his face, the boom of thunder and the grinding shriek of metal–

No, no, he had dealt with that already. Where was he? It was so frustrating not being able to think, to string along a process to its conclusion. 

He flexed his right hand, confused by how numb it was. Pins and needles lurched down the limb in a wave, making him shudder and grunt. That shudder dislodged…something, a huge, sharp something that, from what he could struggle to put together, was what had pinned him to the wall he was currently pressed against. 

It didn't seem to matter if he opened his eyes or kept them closed, either way he was effectively sightless and plagued with vertigo. Had he gone blind?

A groan rattled dryly out of his throat. The skin on his lips cracked with the exhale, and he felt liquid begin to dampen them. His tongue flicked out on reflex, the man tasting rust and dirt. Unbidden came a warm flash as if from a dream, cinnamon and brown sugar, plum spice cake.

Standing was a challenge. More of a slow, creaking shift into what could be vaguely considered an upright position. Fingers scratching at the mud around him, the man levered himself off the ground with the help of what was left of his enormous hammer. The handle of it felt more brittle than he had expected, the scent of rust filling the air when his fingers gripped down. 

How long has it been? 

And then, a new thought occurred, one that seemed to fully shock him to life. Have I just been dreaming this entire time?

Had you just been some vivid hallucination? Had the Duke even scraped him off the ground and brought him to safety, or had he just crawled back into his burrow to die once the saga of he and Winters’ fracas had played out? 

Was any of it real?

The ground squelched wetly beneath whatever was left of his boots as he staggered forward, but it also crunched in a grim manner. He didn't want to think too hard on that, instead focusing on sending out pulses of his power. He couldn't truly see, but at least he knew where metallic objects were in proximity to him and he could use that knowledge to keep from toppling over. 

He wasn't certain how long he meandered through the sunless wreckage. Was it hours, or weeks? Slowly, painfully, one shuffling foot in front of the other, he continued on aimlessly. He wondered to himself if this was how earthworms felt, wriggling through the cold earth in search of sustenance and never deigning to see the sunlight.

He barely even noticed when it started to become brighter around him, reasoning that he must simply be imagining it when faintly from far, far above came a distant dawn chorus of birdsong. The man paused, straining his eyes to see in the dim light, and he could only just make out a faint glow in the distance. His legs, all but atrophied from disuse, protested mightily when he tried to up his pace, so he was forced to maintain the speed of a snail moving through cold molasses.

It was a long, hard trek. The rubble-laden floor angled slightly upwards to the…hole? cave in?, leaving the man to simply flounder and scrape his shins on the detritus he was too weary to lift his legs over. 

As the light strengthened, he came to the sudden realization that he was all but naked. What was left of his clothing was in ribbons, caked with ichor, old blood and mold. His boots seemed to be coming apart at the seams, blooming white patches of mold eating into the remnants of the leather. He then shivered as the first bracing breeze of the outside world graced his lungs, and the coughing spasm it startled out of him seemed to dislodge more than it should have. 

When he finally was able to straighten back up, his spine settled into place, releasing an earsplitting pop! as it did. Relief flooded his body, the pain dulling to a manageable throb. He took a few more tentative breaths, noting as he did how much brighter his surroundings had become. Had he been walking through the night, and just reached the entrance at dawn?

It doesn't really matter, he decided, squaring his shoulders. The only thing that matters is…

“I have to go back.” He grimaced at the rasp of his own voice, swallowing and trying again. “I have to…make sure it wasn't all in my head.”

I have to see them. And when I do, I…

His heart lurched painfully in his chest. What if it had all just been a dream? Some wild wish-fulfillment of a gentler, kinder existence while his body slowly repaired itself after his glorious defeat at the hands of Ethan Winters? 

His empty stomach felt like it was caving in, fear and resignation warring in his gut, but after a moment of hesitation he shook the hair out of his eyes and stepped out into the cool yellow light of a spring morning.

The first thing he noticed was no humanoid footprints, to his absolute delight. No wolf prints, no footprints, nothing. At least he hadn't failed in that regard. Unless he had imagined it and those fucks who put up the fence had also been the ones to eradicate the lycans and their pets. 

Gods, his head hurt. The sun, just barely over the horizon now, seemed like it was burning his retinas clean out of his skull. He shaded his eyes with his palm, grimacing in pain. He would go check the bulkhead he had entered through, he decided. Check the bulkhead, see if it even existed, then check for fresh tracks there. And then…and then…

He slumped against the rubble of the caved-in factory wall, running a hand over his face. His facial hair was extremely unruly and matted with grime, and he doubted the rest of him looked any better. Once he departed the village, put some distance between himself and this…malodorous valley, he would have to clean himself up. If you were real, if he hadn't imagined you in a fit of self-indulgent madness, he doubted you would be overly impressed with him showing up half-dead, reeking of stale sweat, mold and wet dog.

To say nothing of the fact that his clothing was in tatters.

It was a slow, zig-zagging walk back to where he had descended into the factory previously.  At least he knew for certain that the bulkhead existed, the man reasoned with himself while he scrutinized the ground around the bulkhead that hadn't caved in. Again, nothing. No fresh marks, no scrapes, no scuffs. Not so much as a sparrow's tiny claw marks graced the ground. Seemingly the local wildlife gave the valley a wide berth, which made sense. Between Miranda's crow forms and the various nightmarish denizens of this place, it was only logical for normal creatures to avoid it.

He straightened up, squinting against the sunlight once more. He could only just make out that ridiculous fence way off by the outskirts of the valley, and if he remembered the fence…

The man gripped the remains of the haft of his hammer and began walking. It had only taken him a few hours of running to get here before, but after his…rest, it would seem that running wasn't in the cards for today. Or ever again, if the screaming in his calves was anything to go by. So walking it was, doing his best to ignore the tremor in his legs as he went. 

He mainly left his attention on the ground, familiar enough with the valley that he could afford to do so. Back around the swamp he went, nearly losing the sole of one of his boots to the sucking mud that surrounded the area.

He had to get to you. He had to know whether you were real. The fear and hope cycled in his head, back and forth, round and round, and he wondered hazily if he had snapped (or snapped more). 

Climbing the rise felt like an impossible task and yet eventually he stood at the top, sweating and panting but there. 

Without an ounce of finesse, Karl Heisenberg gracelessly tore open a section of the fence and made his escape out into the forest, never once looking back at the village that had been his home for so many years. No, all that his thoughts could stay latched onto was the memory of plum spice cake and the way you had looked at him that night.

He had to get to you. He had to make sure that you were real. And…

He had to apologize.

He had to make this right.

If you hated him, that was fine! It was your right. He would hate him. What he had done was stupid. You made him feel something that he didn't understand, and for someone as self-assured as Karl, that was terrifying. 

Cut them off at the source. More like run from a problem he didn't think he could handle, like some cowardly bitch. The man snarled at himself in discontent, his pace picking up to some sort of lumbering jog. Deer fled before him, nimble bodies flitting through the undergrowth as he did his best to retrace his steps. At least he had the river to follow, if nothing else.

Speaking of which.

Karl knelt beside the rushing water, grateful that he couldn't see his reflection. He had a decent imagination, he didn't need to confirm it. 

It was cold as ice, the chill of it taking his breath away. Karl took another breath and shoved his head underwater, closing his eyes to keep…whatever was in his hair out of them. The man then flipped the soggy hair back over his head, finger-combing it away from his face.

Karl proceeded to drink greedily from the river, the frigid water a shock and blessing all in one. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was, the man finally sloppily wiping his mouth and beard and then getting to his feet once more. The handle of his hammer remained on the ground beside the river, forgotten, as Heisenberg continued onward along the bank.

He felt like he was actually awake now, like he'd emerged from some kind of dream (or nightmare) into these woods. His footing grew more sure, atrophy fading as his muscles warmed up both from use and from the strengthening sunlight streaming through the trees.

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The day was so young, the sky overhead a vibrant blue and the moss beneath his boots a lush, fluffy green. It was honestly beautiful and Karl had no idea how he had never seen it before. Had he been wandering through life with his eyes shut until now?

No, he thought firmly, he had only begun to open them when he met you. You had done that. You had been worth it, had been worth him taking actual notice of the world around him. 

You had to be real. You must be. None of the other phantoms he had encountered in his life had any substance to them, but you…

Heisenberg clenched his fists, urging his body to move faster.

…

Keep your lanterns lit.

And so you did. The Duke had left you with a physical gift despite his claims to the contrary; a sturdy metal lantern with a large cutout shaped like a horse. Every night as the sun was setting, you went out to where it hung on your front gate and lit the candle inside it, which, curiously, never seemed to get any shorter. You, admittedly, didn't have much faith, you just assumed the Duke had been trying to comfort you with some platitude. 

It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. You would take what you could get. You often lingered out by the fence for a while, telling yourself you weren't really listening as you strained your ears to hear anything, anything at all. You knew it was futile and you weren't actually expecting anything to come of it, yet still you persisted in wasting time by the front gate.

With the lengthening days you were occasionally out past dusk, cutting wood or finishing house repairs. On one such day, a floorboard on the porch that had begun creaking in the winter finally annoyed you enough that you decided to attempt to fix it. 

You spent most of the day carefully foraging drips of pine pitch from nearby trees, intending to make a batch of pine tar in the evening. Board couldn't creak if it couldn't move, right? 

You set up your highly-technical ‘refining station’, which definitely wasn't just an old beans can nestled down into the dirt beneath your fire pit, a slightly-larger tomato can with holes poked into the bottom of it resting on top. Then, after dropping all your resin in the upper can, you carefully built the fire up, placing a rock over the top of the can to act as a lid. The melting process could take a few hours, depending on the fire, so it was after sundown when you began to cautiously sift through the charcoal. You would need a few good, clean pieces to mix in with the now-filtered resin, in order to ensure some pliability remained.

You had interrupted the task at sunset, moving in an automatic way from the firepit to the fence to light the lantern. You could see the glow of it now out of the corner of your eye, even while you pored over the char. 

Maybe it does nothing but make me feel a little less alone. 

You stared down at your gloved hands full of blackened wood, blinking furiously when tears began to blur your vision. You continued, albeit a bit more clumsily, to separate out the cleanest chunks of charcoal, doing your best to make a neat little pile. 

A boot abruptly landed squarely in the middle of the pile and you couldn't help the terrified noise that left your mouth, scrambling to try and get to your feet. Before you could, though, the person dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around you, trapping you in place. Wiry unkempt facial hair scuffed your cheek while you just sat there, frozen stiff with fear.

“Sugar.” 

Karl. 

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt his entire body shudder. “I couldn't remember if you were real.” His voice cracked. “I followed the light, but I couldn't–I'm…I'm so sorry, sugar. I'm so, so sorry, I don't know if I can ever make it up to you, I-I just-”

You silently returned his hug, sure that you were leaving charcoal stains on his clothes but not able to find it in you to care all that much. Karl stopped trying to speak after a few moments, the man sagging against you with his forehead resting on your shoulder. “Tell me in the morning, okay?” You whispered, relieved when he nodded. “Let's just get you inside.”

It wasn't much of a struggle to get him indoors, and he bedded down on his old cot without so much as a peep of complaint. He was filthy, but now wasn't the time for your hygiene regiment. He was clearly stripped for energy and worn out. Better to let this particular sleeping dog lie, at least for now.

…

Karl woke suddenly, whatever dream he had been having rapidly fading from his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, momentarily perplexed. Pine truss beams running lengthwise, the pattern of knots and wood grain achingly familiar. 

Sugar. 

He shoved himself into a sitting position, body still heavy from sleep, and saw you. 

You weren't really doing anything all that impressive. The stove door was ajar and you were busily tending the fire. But at that moment, Karl was certain he had never seen a more beautiful sight. “Sugar,” he rasped, voice gruff and drowsy. 

You turned to look at him, your eyes softening upon meeting his own. “Hey, Karl.”

Oh, he could fucking cry. Heisenberg huffed out a breath, feeling his heart twist in his chest. You lugged over the basin of water that had been sitting next to the stove (maybe to keep it warm?), toting a washcloth and the bar of soap as well. “Talk with me once you've sponged off.” You said, not unkindly. “You kinda’ smell like BO and dead animal.”

“I doubt it's a kind of level of smell.” Karl admitted wryly, making you snicker and nod. “Sorry about all this. You tend to smell like death if you're dead for a little while, after all.”

“I don't know if I would call two months and some change a ‘little while’. Also, dead?” You raised an eyebrow. 

Karl stared at you. Two months. Over two months. Gods almighty. 

You, seeming to register that the news was a shock to him, patted his knee. “Y'know what, worry about it later. Focus on the first thing and we can go from there. I'll make us some lunch.”

“Lunch?” 

You nodded, turning your wrist so he could see your watch. It was indeed a little after one in the afternoon. “Get washed up,” you reiterated softly. 

So Karl attempted to do so, flushing a little once he'd stripped and realized just how dirty he actually was. “Sugar?” He called, using the remains of his clothes to cover his groin just in case you turned around. Sure, sure you had seen him entirely naked before, but…

From the kitchen you replied, “yeah?” He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that you didn't look at him.

“I'm just going to throw myself in the river. I don't think this glorified bucket is going to cut it.” He reasoned. 

“Okay, you know where the towels are. Just make sure you go downstream a ways.”

The freezing water in the river was a far cry from the lukewarm comfort that the basin had held, but Karl was a little more certain in his cleanliness once he emerged, teeth chattering and body pink from scrubbing, from the pool that swirled and eddied alongside your far fenceline. Spreading out the worn towel once he had mostly dried himself off, Heisenberg took a moment to lay back on the riverbank and examine the new scars.

The cadou had healed him, of course, but now he was riddled with scars. He'd prided himself previously on his ability to guard quickly, to be able to adjust during a fight and use his powers to shield himself. But that many lycans, vârcolaci, in essentially total darkness…

He knew he was lucky to be alive at all, and that he shouldn't be so unsettled by a few new marks. He still couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had never worried about his looks, it had never crossed his mind. His confidence in his abilities was so all-encompassing he hadn't considered the possibility, but what if you had only been attracted to his looks? You had vocalized interest in his appearance, after all.

Karl frowned, rubbing a hand over his face and noting even more unfamiliar raised areas. Maybe he would feel better once he got his facial hair under control. Once he looked like himself again, or some sort of approximation of it. First things first though, he would need to beg some clothes off of you.

…

You tore into a thick slice of bread, slathered with a little of the precious squirrel fat you had left and a healthy sprinkle of salt. Karl had vanished into your bedroom with the haircare kit, stating that he “felt more human, but could use a shape-up”.

He looked much too good for someone you had convinced yourself to be mad at. Truthfully your confusion and anger at being…well, abandoned, in your own terms, had ebbed substantially upon his arrival. He had seemed–breakable wasn't quite the right word. Maybe fragile? He had clearly been through hell, if nothing else. At that moment, you had decided to be merciful. You would hear him out. If you didn't like his answer, you could always show him the door.

Another bite was crammed into your mouth, and you focused on chewing furiously before your thoughts could wander any further. Cool it, hotshot, you scolded yourself mentally. Try to be normal about this.

Once Karl emerged from your room he gingerly settled into the seat across from you at the table. Wearing some borrowed, slightly ill-fitting clothes and sporting some uneven edges to his facial hair, the man didn't exactly cut an imposing figure. 

God, you had missed him so much.

To your surprise he entirely ignored the food in front of him, instead reaching across the table and clasping your free hand between his own. The look he leveled at you made you want to break eye contact, but stubbornly, you refused. He owed you this much, you reminded yourself with more than a touch of irritation.

“I'm sorry.” His voice was still raspy, but it seemed to be from disuse. “I…sugar I fucked up. I own that. I was scared.”

You gaped at him, thrown entirely off balance. The man who had faced down a horde of lycans, the man who could control metal with a look, a gesture–

Scared?

He wasn't done clearly, his grip on your hand tensing as he leaned in with an earnest expression. “You deserved better than what I did. You were–gods, you were so kind to me. Opened your home to me when I didn't know who I was. Opened yourself to me.” 

Were you blushing?! Dammit! 

“I know we didn't mean fuckall to one another, I get that it was…I guess a convenience, using each other for mutual benefit. But I-” Heisenberg paused, leaving you reeling. It was true though, wasn't it? Convenience. No emotions involved in it. “-I don't know what the hell happened.” He finally admitted, his voice soft. “I don't know when it changed for me. Whether it even changed at all, or if it was always like that and I was just ignoring it. I'm, uh, not exactly experienced here, and I guess I can blame it on that.”

“‘Experienced’ how?” You managed to ask, a hysterical giggle escaping you when he stuttered and fell silent. “Seriously?”

“This isn't how I-look, sugar, I figured me dying, me wiping out all those lycan freaks and probably dying in the process–I mean it wasn't great, but I thought I could at least be useful. I'm not…good.” His voice faded to an awkward mumble. “Good, like how you are.”

One thing at a time. You could process that later. “All the lycans?” The woods had been peaceful the last few months. You hadn't really thought…damn. 

Karl nodded, his jaw set in a grim line.

“You…You really thought you were gonna’ die?” You felt a little nauseous when he nodded again. “How? You're so tough!”

“I'd never fought the horde on their turf. They holed up in my factory after-” he gestured at himself. “-everything.” The man sighed heavily, rotating his shoulder. “Brought the house down on top of them and me. Not sure how long I fought them before then.”

“You've got to be shitting me.” You planted your palms on the table, shoving your chair out behind you from the force as you stood. “You went back there and nearly got yourself killed-”

“Yes.” Heisenberg cut you off. “I did, sugar, and I'd do it again.”

“Why though?” You exclaimed, incredulous.

“You really don't know?” He asked, sounding just as incredulous. “You try coming to a realization like I did when you're fucking–balls deep in someone!” His eyes widened, the man dropping his head to thud against the table after a moment of stunned silence. “Dammit,” he snarled, his voice muffled.

“W-what realization?” You knew you should probably leave it alone. It was an invasive question and, despite the intimacy the two of you had shared, an apology was already on your lips when it was cut off by a loud groan from Karl.

“That I–that you–” the man floundered, then suddenly jerked his head up to fix you with an appropriately-intense look. “I think I love you.”

What.

What?!

Your shoulders dropped, hands slack on the tabletop. You stared at Karl, but all he did was stare back at you, his gaze one of weary resignation.

I think I love you. 

“S-So–” Gods, when had your mouth become so dry?! “So you don't know?” You half-squeaked, half-choked on the words.

“I've never felt this way before,” was his blunt reply. “I can only infer from the evidence.” He didn't seem thrilled about the circumstances, but maybe that could also be chalked up to his lack of experience.

“Is it…are you okay with it?”

Karl's brow furrowed, and then he offered you a slow, firm nod. “...yeah. Had a lot of time to think during my walk back. Even if you…I mean, if you think I'm gross-looking now, that's okay. I'd understand.”

You blinked, entirely baffled. Gross? Sure, he had a few new scars on his face. They only stood out to you because the tissue was still pink, unlike the silvery lines that had littered his visage before. But that wasn't gross, not to you anyway. 

Karl was still talking however, and it seemed that he was picking up speed. “Sugar, I showed up, an unknown, a starving wolf at your door and yet you showed me kindness, even if it was just a favor for that fat bastard at first. You fed me from your own damn plate, let me take comfort in you.” His words hitched momentarily when he continued, “I was just so–so twisted and broken, I didn't understand that you could offer with open hands. I didn't understand what you had given me and then I realized as I was throwing myself at the lycan hive that…I was an idiot. It wasn't that I wanted to die, I wanted to live! I'd never wanted to live so much in my damn life, so I could get back to you, so I could apologize, so I could–” Heisenberg's fists clenched, the man soldiering on doggedly, “so I could tell you how I…felt. How I think I feel.”

“So you could tell me that you love me.” You were reeling. 

“Yes.” His broad shoulders caved a little, the man shrinking into himself. “And now you know. Now I know. But I don't know what to do. I've never…this hasn't happened before.”

You picked up your glass of water and drained it in one long gulp, attempting to buy time while your brain ran through a million possibilities at once. Your main takeaway, however, was simple. He loves me. A warm sensation flooded your body, tingling down to your fingertips. He loves me. “Want me to offer some input?” You asked, your steps light as you rounded the table. 

Heisenberg nodded dully, his eyes fixed on the bowl of stew in front of him. You gently brought your hands up to cup his chin, tilting his face so you could meet his gaze. You found no regret in that stare, only apprehension, which was immensely heartening.

“Next time you have a realization like that, talk to me.” You said in a sweet tone, the ‘loving’ pat you gave him on the cheek not quite a smack. “Don't pull something like that again…and I'll let you stay with me.”

“You…what, seriously?” Karl demanded, his eyes widening. “You'll let me stay here? Even after-”

“Don't push your luck,” you warned, blowing a raspberry at him when he began to laugh incredulously. “This isn't a vacation, after all! You'll need to fix holes in the roof, help me with the supplies every year, check the traps-”

Karl swept you up in a hungry kiss, effectively cutting off your eternal to-do list. “That all sounds wonderful, sugar.” He murmured against your lips. “Let me finish lunch and I'll get right on it.”

Thoroughly flustered, you stammered out in protest, “i-i-it's not going to be easy, Karl! Don't agree to this unless you understand the burden of responsibility you're taking on.”

“I do.” He insisted around his first mouthful of bread. “I pr’mise.”

…

He wasn't certain where your underwear had gone, but he was immensely grateful for its absence. You leaned forward, taking his dick out of your mouth for a second to catch your breath and Karl forced your knees to slide out on either side of him with his forearms so he could draw his tongue along your cunt. His thumbs spread you open, the man rumbling when he felt your breath hitch. Then, Karl delved his tongue into you, making you moan and whimper around his dick while he slowly, slowly ate you out.

Karl could feel his heartbeat in his neck when your thighs suddenly snapped shut around his head, hips rocking back and forth as you ground yourself against his mouth. Finally, someone who could be as greedy as he was.

His own hips bucked upwards, driving his cock into your throat mercilessly while you continued to attempt to crush his skull. Your thighs were trembling, body undulating helplessly. All Karl could do was urge you onward and that's exactly what he did, his voice a low burr against your cunt as he demanded that you come for him. It didn't matter that you'd already come before, it didn't matter that you were still sloppy and fucked-out from his previous, extremely enthusiastic efforts. Karl wanted more and he knew you did too.

Your pelvis lurched abruptly, breath coming in sharp little gasps as you began to climax. The former Lord growled in satisfaction, clasping his hands up over your thighs to pin you where you were as you rode out your orgasm. 

“Mmm, told you that you had one more in you,” he hummed, grinning when you whined your annoyance at him. “Shh, no complaining sugar, or I'll wring another one out of you for fun.” As if to prove his point Karl slid a finger into you, using it to massage your still-trembling walls. You whimpered but made no attempt to wriggle away from him, so Heisenberg simply carried on gently stroking his finger in and out of your entrance. “One more, sugar, c'mon, match me.” The man teased, his eyes half-lidding when you took his dick in hand once more.

“You're ridiculous-” You panted. He could hear the laughter in your words despite your evident breathlessness. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sugar.” Karl patted your leg, guiding you to turn around and slide back down to straddle his thighs. He then sat up slightly, meeting you halfway in a hungry kiss. “I love you,” he sighed, finding his eyes still searching your own for reassurance. 

But then you smiled at him, knocking your forehead gently against his own. “And I love you, Karl.”

I love you. 

“‘Course you do,” Karl breathed, half to himself. You rolled your eyes at him and your wry chuckle was music to his ears, as was your singsong reply.

“Of course I do.”

[zeeohoh]

A/N : Oh my gosh this is my first fic and I'm impulsively writing it so it isn't proof read or I might overthink it and not post it.

pleaseee give me prompts or recommendations, not limited to Spencer! Any member of the BAU, or Criminal Minds, I am only halfway through season 9 so no spoilers!

I'm currently on 09x15 of Criminal Minds, and this episode is directed by our very own Mr. Gibson.

"Do you wanna come upstairs?"

(Gn!reader) after a particularly exhaustive case that struck Spencer the hard way, reader tries to be there for him ( this isn't a romantic fic but is up for interpretation/ as you wish ;) ) .

I've been a part of the BAU for about seven months now, I transferred a little while after my time in the field under the SOC, but I had assisted them on multiple cases before and was familiar with most of the team so the transition wasn't hard. I was great friends with Penelope already because she'd help me on my cases sometimes if she had the time to spare, she would invite me to her movie nights and outings and from there on I befriended the others. I was good friends with everyone on the team except Spencer, we weren't on bad terms or anything, but things were rocky, I had no doubt that he trusted me as a team member. Perhaps he just needed more time to consider me as anything more than that.

Everyone slept soundly in the bau jet as we headed back for Quantico. The team had been in Wisconsin for the past 6 days trying to chase down an unsub that had been kidnapping teenagers and sending letters to their parents written in their blood. This case was mentally and physically draining. I was sitting next to Morgan, who was sound asleep with his headphones on, occasionally stirring in his sleep, uneasy, he had taken a couple of hits chasing the unsub with JJ. The unsub might've gotten away if it wasn't for Spencer literally throwing himself at the unsub to subdue him. He may not look(or be) the most physically fit person on the team, but over the years during his time working for the FBI, he'd been more than able to stand his ground.

I couldn't fall asleep on the flight back so I thought I might as well make some coffee, as I was preparing the pot, I glanced around the jet and locked eyes with a certain Curly haired genius with a book in his hand, he looked like he'd woken up not long ago, I held up the pot in my hand as a way of asking him if he'd like some and he simply nodded with a tight lipped smile. I grabbed both of our coffees and set his down on the table infront of him.

"Thank you, Y/N, I thought you'd be asleep"

"I was, but Morgan keeps stirring in his sleep, and that woke me up, what about you? What's keeping you up? I figured you'd crash the second we boarded the jet, you must be exhausted"

"My side hurts from earlier so I can't find a comfortable position to sleep in, I'm just waiting to be back in Quantico so I can hopefully rest at home"

"Do you want- uh- would you want to sit here instead? I know the plane lands in the next 20 minutes and we're already almost there but-"

"I'd like that, thank you, Dr. Reid"

"Spencer"

"What?"

"Call me Spencer, if you'd like, Reid feels too formal, like we're nothing more than co-workers" he almost whispered the last bit ,there was a hint of disappointment written all over his face.

Was he...upset that I didn't call him Spencer?

"Okay, Spencer, I am just used to calling you Reid, has a nice ring to it, and for the record, I don't consider you as just a guy I work with, you're more than that" I smiled at him. "You can go back to your book if you want, we don't have to talk or anything"

"Oh okay" he looked as if he wanted to say something else but decided against it and reached out for his book instead

We sat in silence as he went back to his book and I leaned back in my seat and shut my eyes, the silence wasn't awkward, the silence was comfortable.

After landing, everyone filed into the bullpen as Penelope greeted us all with warm hugs.

"Everyone take the weekend off, I'll see you on Monday, Morgan, Reid, take care and let me know if you need anything"

Reid headed to his desk to grab a few things and I stayed behind, waiting for him.

"You haven't left yet?" He questioned me as he approached the elevator

"I was just waiting for you, we take the same train home so I figured we could head back together"

"I'd really like that" Spencer smiled at me.

I don't just want to walk him to the station, I really want to walk him home, just for my peace of mind, I don't know why, I just do

"You just missed your stop" He asked me as the doors closed on what should've been the stop I got off on everyday. "Are you walking me home?"

"...Is it okay if I do that? I mean it's not that I'm worried that you can't get back on your own with you being hurt, it's just that for my peace of mind-"

You're rambling, Y/N, big time

"Y/N, it's okay, I really appreciate you doing that, it's very thoughtful of you" he cut me off

We walked towards his apartment building as we talked about our plans for the weekend, Reid decided to stay in this weekend and recover while I will probably be spending the next two days doing movie nights with Penelope or meeting up with JJ.

We came to a halt as he stopped infront of a building I presumed he lived at, I actually had no idea where he lived until this moment.

"Well, this is me"

"Okay, have a nice weekend,okay? If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call, I am serious, I live close by anyways"

"Would you like to- uh- Do you want to come upstairs?" Reid looked at me expectedly.

"I wouldn't want to intrude, besides you should definitely get some sleep, Reid- Spencer, you've had a long day"

"I have a strong cup of caffeine in my system, I'm tired, yes, but I'm nowhere near sleeping, we can order take out, my treat, besides, some company would be nice, your company would be nice, if you want to ofcourse, don't feel compelled to say yes"

"I'd like that, thank you, Spencer, but please don't hesitate to tell me if you change your mind and want to sleep instead or want to be left alone."

We headed up to his apartment and he set up an old Silent movie for us to watch, enjoying the takeout, we got so caught up in talking that I didn't even realize how late it had gotten, we were on our second movie before I heard the silent snoring and looked over to my side to see Spencer fast asleep,I finished the rest of the movie and got up from the couch to clear the table and throw away the take out boxes, I reached into his go-bag and took out a blanket he sometimes carried with him and placed it over him.

He looks so angelic when he sleeps, so peaceful

As if sensing me staring at him, his eyes fluttered open and embarrassment flushed his face as he realized he had fallen asleep while I was still over.

He turned his head and locked at the clock, 01:23

"How long was I out? I am so sorry , I had trouble sleeping the past few days and when it finally came to me it just had to be when you were here."

"Hey, don't worry, it's fine, really, you looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn't want to wake up, I'll be out of your hair now"

"It's late right now, Y/N, it isn't safe for you to go out alone ,not that I'm in any way hinting that you can't take care of yourself, you could throw Morgan over your shoulder if you really wanted to or Two Morgans for that matter but the point is, I don't want you to go-" he let out a sigh and looked down at his hands that rested on his lap. "If I asked you to stay, would you? I hadn't slept this well in a while and I'm sorry if that's weird but-"

I cut him off "point me to the bathroom, I have a fresh set of clothes in my go-bag that I can change into"

This man must have been more exhausted than I thought he was because he was asleep again as I stepped out of the bathroom, as I leaned down to wake him up to sleep on the bed instead, I glanced at my phone that had a new notification, from Spencer

Please take the bed, make yourself at home and turn off your alarms for the morning, Goodnight Y/N

P.s thank you for staying with me tonight, it means a lot"

I poured a glass of water and placed it on the table next to the couch, incase he wakes up thirsty and headed for the bedroom.

Goodnight Spencer, Sweet Dreams.

His bed was so comfortable that it wasn't long before I slipped into a blissful sleep.

[ddagent]

I've been really loving your writing! How about C1 for the prompts? I must know what that season 2 AU is. And maybe, if you have the time, D6?

Fanfic Menu Challenge

Aleida Rosales' first day at NASA had been intense. It was the first time she'd stepped foot into JSC since the day her father had been deported. There had been a scheduled field trip during her senior year but she'd called in sick that day; not wanting to see the familiar halls, to see Margo Madison. Aleida had long wondered what returning would feel like. But it had felt...right. She belonged in these halls, had worked her ass off to get a place in these halls. And not only was she now an engineer at NASA but she was working on one of the biggest missions since Jamestown: Apollo-Soyuz. With none other than one of the men who put Alexei Leonov on the moon.

At the end of her first day, Aleida wanted to make sure she said goodbye to Sergei. He had been kind: not pushing her to open up; asking only questions about the work. Always with a smile. But he was nowhere to be found.

In the ops office, she caught Elaine. "Hey, have you seen Sergei?"

Elaine tried her best to hide a smile as she finalised the new ops procedures. "He'll be with Director Madison."

Aleida felt a chunk of ice settle in the pit of her stomach. Why was he with Margo? Was she checking up on her? Did Margo think so little of her that she needed to be babysat? "Are you sure?"

Elaine checked her watch. "Well, it's about seven. He'll be there."

With a nod towards Elaine, Aleida fled the office and went to find Margo's. This would be the third office Margo had had since Aleida had known her. The first was nothing more than a cubicle: dim lighting, a mug full of tootsie rolls and toothpaste. The second had been larger, with a window no less and a couple of chairs. As Director of JSC, Aleida was expecting her office now to take up a whole floor. Maybe there was even a goddamn piano in there. Aleida felt rage build with every footstep, every clench of her hands. She was pissed at Margo for checking up on her. Pissed at Sergei for lying to her. He wasn't her friend. He was her damn babysitter.

As she rounded the corridor, Aleida caught sight of the open office door. Margo's assistant, Emma, had gone home. Light spilled from the open door, as did laughter. She recognised Sergei's laugh: he was incapable of getting through a shift without it. But in the months that she had known Margo, she had never heard that woman laugh.

"You do not think I will look fetching, yes, in a fake moustache and wig?"

Margo laughed again. What the hell? "Sergei, we are not hiding you when the Soviets come. You're with NASA, now. Front and centre."

"A perfect place to be for their snipers."

Through the open door, Aleida watched as Margo jabbed a finger in Sergei's direction. "Don't joke about that. Refill?"

"Please."

Margo stood up, took his empty glass, and went to a small bar by the wall of windows to refill their drinks. Aleida wondered what they were drinking. Vodka, maybe, as Sergei was Russian? Whiskey, brandy? Pepsi? But her speculation was cut off as her eyeline settled on Sergei. He wasn't staring at the artwork on the walls or at the bland carpeting. He was staring, unwatched and unbidden, at Margo Madison. His gaze was soft; his smile playful. Sergei stared, every atom within him yearning, as Margo poured them both another drink. Then, as soon as she turned around, a mask went up and Sergei was laughing and his eyes were harder. Like he'd never been watching her at all.

Margo sat back down and a new topic was introduced. "So, how was your new engineer?"

This was Aleida's moment. This was her time to storm in, to challenge them both. But she was rooted to the spot. Sergei replied and all Aleida could see was the familiar way he addressed Margo, the familiarity between them both. "She was wonderful, as you told me she would be. I am not surprised; you were her mentor."

"Hardly." Margo took a sip. "I knew her for four and half months eight years ago. I may have got her started but everything she is...it's all her." Another drink. "You'll keep an eye on her for me?"

"Margo—"

"—Sergei." He paused. She faltered, then spoke: "Please. You...you know what this means to me." Two drinks were quickly put aside. Sergei took Margo's hand in his. Their eyes met, and for a moment Aleida wondered whether she would watch her former mentor and her new one kiss in a quiet office. But Aleida blinked, and Margo was out of her chair, downing her drink, and putting it on the sideboard. "It's getting late."

"Of course." Sergei reluctantly finished his own drink. "Goodnight, Margo. See you tomorrow."

"Night."

Sergei left Margo's office, pulling the door closed behind him. He muttered words in Russian – Aleida didn't understand, but they seemed to be chastisements, hissing at himself and his behaviour. Sergei raised his head to leave and found Aleida standing in his path. He came to an abrupt stop. No questions about how long she'd been standing there, what she'd heard. Just: "This was a private conversation."

Aleida crossed her arms. "Looked pretty cosy."

"It is not. Director Madison and I...we discuss things. We have known each other a long time." Sergei joined her, sunk his hands into the pockets of his pants. He relaxed the closer he was from the door. "She does not question your capability, Aleida. She means only to make sure that you are well, that you are happy here."

"She could ask me herself."

Sergei smiled, softly, almost to himself. "Ah, but that would require Margo to challenge what has been instilled in her since she was first mentored: that this hallowed place is only for calculations, procedures. Not friendship or...love. She does her best, Aleida." His hand lightly patted her shoulder. "Please, give her space for her best to become better."

Aleida, reluctantly, nodded. Maybe she could give Margo a little leeway. But only a little. The moment she found out that Sergei was making detailed reports about her back to Margo, she'd cut both of them out. It would only dawn on Aleida later, when she understood the true reason behind the seven o'clock meetings, that discussing her work performance was the very last topic of conversation Margo and Sergei wanted to indulge in.

[bonnieisaway]

WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IT THAT - I KNOW IT WAS ONE OF MY MUTUALS - WE HAD A REALLY LONG CONVERSATION ABOUT HOW SEVEN ALWAYS WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KILL IN THE PAST, AND WE GOT ON THE TOPIC OF THE GIRL IN WHITE AND YOU SAID THAT YOU THOUGHT SHE DIDN'T MEAN FOR SEVEN TO DIE BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T GO THROUGH THE HEART NOTICBLY MORE THROUGH HIS CHEST/STOMACH AND I SAID I WASN'T SURE IF WE COULD REALLY GO OFF OF THAT BECAUSE WE HADN'T KNOWN MUCH OF HER CHARACTER NOR WHY SHE DID IT BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE WE NEED TO SIT DOWN AND REDISCUSS THIS BECAUSE SEASON FOUR SPOILER THING UNDER CUT

I WENT FUCKING FERAL WHEN THIS WAS SAID because like obviously the question is when the hell did that poison get put in him because I feel like , Seven wouldn't have taken it himself? Like he wanted to move on and he was willing to fight all of Xuanwu for the girl in white but I think he would've known he had to do that face on and that poison would only, inevitably, put them in more danger?

And I can't think of another shadow killer or the leader that would want this- EVERYONE wanted him dead, Green Phoenix presumably didn't care because evidently the shadow killers DIDN'T go after him last time or were afraid to, otherwise he would've used his plan earlier, the leader NEVER gets off his ass, and there would've been no point erasing his memories if he was wanted dead.

I feel like the logical conclusion here - at least I'm assuming between the moment he was stabbed and washed up nobody else saw him, and prior to the fight he hadn't seen anybody else who'd have done this nor discussed it - is that the girl in white had it on her blade, right? Like wasn't she also wanted dead? Seven was protecting her and that's the whole reason he was wanted dead, so killing him would've gotten her killed too and I feel like this shit is waaay too much to pull a sort of long-con to get him killed, but even if she WAS supposed to kill him as some sort of long hidden plan, maybe she might've loved him anyway and CHOSE this form of mercy? Because erasing his memories would effectively 'kill' him? Or was it that they both wanted this to end so badly but she chose the impulsive way out, getting herself killed and a merciful, forgetful end for Seven that had a fighting chance of letting him live on without her?

But also the symbolism when they show it confuses me.

So this eye was a new thing in season four and it ONLY ever really is shown around the leader of the shadow killers, when he's on his being-an-eldritch-horror shit, but my thing is WHAT purpose would he have to do that to Seven? Like yeah, he ordered him dead, but HOW would he even get that done and what reason would he have? Like, it was kind of presumed the leader had gone out on a limb and chosen SPECIFICALLY Seven for some unnamed reason, to a point that even Redtooth was fuckin annoyed about it (probably because to some degree Redtooth envied him but let's pack that away for another day) so I don't know WHY this eye is here

There's also a crow here which I would assume was ALSO for the leader's spybird if it wasn't for Blackbird's whip right next to it? But like, Blackbird doesn't seemingly have an unsettled score with Seven. He wanted him to die, yes, and he said "painfully at my hands," but that's like, how everyone dies to Blackbird. And their entire fight, there was nothing brought up about something in their past or between these two, everything was only about Blackbird's past and his tramua, which almost sounded like he felt like he needed to be this anti-hero killing Seven because of the order and would let Shimen take the reward.

There's also a really faint hand here? I don't know what else to attribute it to other than this hand:

back in season three, which this sequence was VERY much a long allegory about Seven's nature and that he's had a very, very short time to live the life he wanted and that he's basically being fucking dragged through life at this rate, though noticeably the hand here in season four has a red, glowy texture on it (aside from the rest of the texture near it) that's seeming to me either be blood or also another sort of imagery for the poison in him

but also there feels like there's a larger image here, too? It's really hard to make out because I can't really tell if it's just the shading , or a stylistic choice, but the bottom right is noticeably a different shade and has an outline and the inside has a wood-grain like texture? But I think also this might just be a sort of outline - given where it starts on Seven's shoulder - that's supposed to look like a gaseous, poison cloud coming from him. just AAAAAAAH oh my GOD there's so much to think about from this 20 seconds alone kill me

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

From Hell to Home to Back Again

Summary: At the talent show, Chrissy Cunningham is so hungry that she nearly collapses. When she's found by Hopper, her parents ended up losing custody of her. She ends up being placed in the care of the Hendersons, and she finally finds the family she so desperately needed. She also ends up falling in love. What other changes are made in this alternate universe?

@emen-98 @1lostsoul0fishbowl @vulpixsworld

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chrissy was running through the woods, the trees changing with quickly transitioning seasons: red, yellow, green, and the whiteness of snow. Suddenly, she was falling with the leaves, and she was in the Upside Down. The vines slid around her wrists and ankles, pining her to her knees. Eddie stood in front of her, his eyes red.

"You failed to save Barb," he said, his cold voice echoing in the darkness as Barb's body appeared before her.

"You failed to save Will." Will's body appeared next to Barb.

"You failed to save your mom. Your brother. Your friends. My friends. How can I love someone so heartless. . . So fat. . . Little Piggy?"

Eddie plunged his hand into Chrissy's chest and pulled it out of her chest, revealing her very own beating heart. Suddenly, it was switched, and Eddie was on his knees with Chrissy holding his heart in her hands.

"Either way, I'm dead. . . Either way, you killed me. . ."

Eddie lay dead at her feet with her friends and family while a demogorgon stood over them, blood dripping from its open face. Chrissy screamed.

"Little Piggy, Little Piggy. . .let me in. . ."

Chrissy woke up with a gasp. She was twisted up in her sheets and covered in sweat. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She looked at her clock on her bedside table. Ugh. 4:30 in the morning. Yeah, there was no way that she was going to get back to sleep. She scribbled in her journal as she sat by her window and wrote until the sun started to come up. Chrissy sighed as she watched the sunrise. It was a little warmer now and getting closer to spring, but it was also the end of the month, which meant that she was going to go to the lab for a check-up with Will. She hated going there. . .well, Dr. Owens was nice enough, but the place still gave her the creeps. She got up and walked over to her dresser, looking at her pig figurine.

"Well, Wilbur, now what?" Chrissy asked as she poked Wilbur's snout.

Her eyes landed on the framed photo of her and Eddie locking eyes with her while he was on stage. He looked so good in that picture, and Chrissy smiled. Now, would be a perfect time for a shower.

"I'm just saying you took a long time in the shower!" Dustin said as she pushed him into Steve’s car.

"Shut up!" Chrissy hissed. "It was early. No one else was supposed to be up."

"Tell that to my bladder!" Dustin exclaimed.

"What's happening?" Steve asked.

"Nothing! Nothing!" She said quickly, blushing.

"Chrissy was trying to take the hot water away from the other people living in the house," Dustin said.

"I was not!" Chrissy exclaimed. "I was just - I just got lost in thought."

"Who wants to guess what she was thinking about?" Steve asked with a grin, and Robin snickered.

"What?! Oh! But Mike said women don't do that," Dustin said.

"Don't listen to Mike," Robin and Nancy said in unison.

Chrissy put her hands on her face and groaned.

"Don't worry, Chrissy, you're not the only one," Nancy laughed. "Robin takes long showers too."

"Nance!" Robin exclaimed. "You're a terrible sister. I was going to be the one to educate our idiot brother, but I think I'm going to leave it up to you."

Chrissy moved away from them as quickly possible. She was terribly embarrassed. Maybe she could avoid them all today. Maybe Eddie and the others wouldn't be sitting with them at lunch today because they had Hellfire business. Chrissy smiled and breathed a sigh of relief as she walked into school. Maybe he wasn't even here today. She was quickly proven wrong, however, when she saw Eddie leaning against her locker.

"Did you get here early this morning?" Chrissy asked.

"For once, I did," Eddie grinned.

Robin and Nancy were walking by at that moment. They laughed and wiggled their eyebrows at her.

"You should ask her if she had a good shower this morning," Robin said teasingly as she walked away.

"Uh, did you have a good shower this morning?" Eddie asked nervously.

Chrissy sighed loudly and pressed her face against the cool metal of the locker. It actually helped cool her warm face down.

"I hate Robin," Chrissy muttered.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of falling in the shower. It happens to the best of us. I do it all the time," Eddie said. "Uncle Wayne keeps telling me that it's a terrible place to air guitar and to use the showerhead as a microphone."

Chrissy felt her face grow warmer as she tried to beat that image out of her head.

"Shut up!" She exclaimed. "I didn't fall in the shower."

"Oh, did you piss? Yeah, sometimes that happens," Eddie said.

"You don't have to keep guessing, Eddie," Chrissy laughed, her forehead still pressed to the locker.

"Oh, was it the other thing?" Eddie whispered.

"NO!"

"Oh. Oh! OH! Fuck, Stan told me women don't do that," Eddie said.

"Do I need to educate you on the female body?" Chrissy asked, her head snapping to look at him.

"Hm, a little forward there, Henderson," Eddie grinned, and she rolled her eyes. "But you should know that I've only slept with one woman, so you're going to have to be gentle with me."

"Fuck off," Chrissy said with a laugh and then paused. "So, only one woman?"

"Yeah, pretty sure she was daring herself to sleep with me," Eddie sighed. "But that's okay, I'm not heartbroken over it. I'm not looking to be anyone's boyfriend."

"Oh, you're not?" Chrissy asked, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly boyfriend material, not for anyone," Eddie said, shrugging.

"Oh, well, that's too bad," Chrissy said, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in her stomach. "I'm sure you would make an excellent boyfriend."

"Yeah, right," Eddie said with a snort. "That's about as likely as the basketball team winning the championship this year."

"They're working really hard this year!" Chrissy exclaimed, trying not to laugh.

Chrissy let Eddie walk her to class as she tried not to think about what he told her. She didn't want to be one of those girls who thought she should change a boy. If Eddie doesn't want to be a boyfriend, then that's his right, and if he ever decided to change his mind, then it should be up to him. Still, it didn't stop her from being disappointed. She pouted all day, and when she got to lunch, she was glad to see that Hellfire wasn't going to be eating with them for once.

"Hellfire business?" Chrissy asked Robin.

"Hellfire business," Robin replied. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Chrissy huffed as she dove into her food.

"Is it because of this evening? Will gets antsy when he has to go too," Jonathan said. "But you know that."

"I mean, yeah, I hate going, and I get that it's necessary or whatever, but it's not just that," Chrissy said with a sigh. "Eddie doesn't want to be my boyfriend."

"What? That's crazy!" Steve exclaimed. "I've seen the way he looks at you."

"I'm sorry, Chrissy," Nancy said softly.

"I mean, he actually doesn't want to be anyone's boyfriend which I guess includes being my boyfriend," Chrissy said.

"So, he didn't actually tell you that he didn't want to be your boyfriend?" Robin asked.

"No, not directly," Chrissy said. "He says he's not boyfriend material."

"Maybe he was hurt in the past, wounded, and he's not ready to be in a relationship with anyone yet," Robin said.

"Has he dated anyone?" Jonathan asked.

"Not really. He said he slept with one woman before, and he said it was like she was daring herself. That's when he said he wasn't exactly heartbroken over it because he wasn't looking to be anyone's boyfriend," Chrissy said.

"Maybe it hurt him a lot more than he thought it did," Nancy said. "And maybe in his own way without knowing, he was telling you that he wasn't ready for a relationship yet."

"Maybe," she said. "Okay, can we talk about something else? I'm not even sure I should have told you all of that."

Chrissy tried not to get her hopes up about what Nancy told her. If he wasn't ready yet, Chrissy was patient enough and understanding to wait for him. She wasn't going to wait forever, though. She didn't pay attention to any of her other classes because now she was thinking about how this evening was going to go. When the bell rang, signaling the end of school, she wandered out into the parking lot to find Hopper waiting to pick her up. Just as she was about to head toward his vehicle, Eddie stopped her.

"Hey, do you need a ride?" Eddie asked.

"Hop is picking me up for my therapy session," Chrissy said.

"Therapy session?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, to talk about what happened in the woods, you know," Chrissy said. "Sorry, I didn't tell you. I don't really like talking about it."

"I get it," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

Chrissy smiled but didn't say anything. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Eddie froze for a moment before hugging her back. She stood in his arms for a moment, her head buzzing as she enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her. Chrissy pulled back and pressed a hard kiss to his cheek. She pulled away and watched his stunned reaction. He let out a quick burst of laughter and twirled around way too fast, which caused him to run right into a pole. She caught him before he hit the ground and stood him up right.

"Eddie!" Chrissy exclaimed, looking worried.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Eddie said quickly, rubbing his forehead. "Go on!"

Chrissy giggled as she walked over to the car. Hopper was struggling not to laugh.

"Your boyfriend is a goddamn idiot," Hopper finally laughed.

"Not my boyfriend," Chrissy said, grinning and pausing. "So, you're not worried?"

"He's more likely to hurt himself than he is you," Hopper said.

Hopper spent the rest of the car ride teasing Chrissy about Eddie until she blasted the radio and glared heavily at him. He turned it off with a laugh. She rolled her eye as he pulled into the parking lot of the lab. She knew what he was doing, trying to take her mind off of where she was going. She climbed out of the car and smiled at the sight of Joyce's car. She was prepared this time when Will threw himself into her stomach.

"Oh, thank God, my savior," Chrissy said, hugging him tightly.

"Uh oh, what'd Hop do now?" Joyce asked in amusement.

"It's not what I did," Hopper said laughing.

"It's not that funny, Hop," Chrissy rolled her eyes.

"She gave her boyfriend a kiss on the cheek. He got this goofy looking grin on his face, turned around, and ran right into the pole," Hopper said. "Smacked his head pretty good."

"Oh no!" Joyce laughed.

"That's hilarious," Will grinned.

"He's not my boyfriend," Chrissy rolled her eyes.

"Right," Will grinned as he took her hand. "Dustin said he runs a D&D Club at the high school. Do you think it's going to still be there when we get to high school?"

"For your sake, I hope so," Chrissy said.

"Do you think we could meet him? He sounds so cool," Will said.

"He'd be up for it," Chrissy grinned.

"Jonathan says he plays guitar," Will said. "He said he could be better though."

"What?! That's crazy. Eddie's really good already, I don't know how he could possibly need to get any better," Chrissy said furiously. "And I guess he was lying when he that he loved the way he played."

"He actually never said that, but Jonathan did say you really liked him," Will said slyly.

"You shithead," Chrissy laughed and ruffled his head.

With her arm held tightly around him, their laughter stopped as they entered the building. Chrissy and Will shivered. They both liked Dr. Owens well enough, but it was the building itself that unnerved them. It was what it represented: all the pain that was inflected because of one man and his need to play God. Barb was dead because of this place. . .because of Dr. Brenner. They reassured them that he was gone now, but she had this feeling on the back of her neck that made her think otherwise.

"Thanks for being my friend," Barb's voice whispered in her mind.

Benny was dead because of them, too, and despite the fact that the woman who put a bullet in his head was dead, it still didn't feel like enough. Chrissy felt a tug on her hand, and she looked down at Will. He looked encouragingly at her before pulling her inside with him. They dealt with the tests together and separately. They dealt with constant questioning, and they talked with them about what happened in the Upside Down, what they both went through. They even talked about their nightmares, and Chrissy talked about the voice in the darkness that kept calling to her. She rolled her eyes openly when the doctor told her it was perfectly normal after everything she went through. It certainly didn't feel like it. Chrissy knew they were doing the best with what they were working with, though, because she had a feeling like they were out of their element. Chrissy and Will walked out of there with both of their arms wrapped around each other. Then they just stood in the parking lot, hugging each other.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me today?" Chrissy asked.

"No, that's for you and Dustin," Will smiled. "But thank you."

Chrissy hugged Joyce goodbye before hopping into the other vehicle.

"Same thing?" Hopper asked her as he drove off.

"Yeah," Chrissy replied.

They picked up Dustin and went to the baseball field. Chrissy always told Hopper that it wasn't necessary to wait, but there was a part of her who appreciated it. Chrissy put on a helmet and stood at the plate with a bat. Dustin threw the first softball, and she hit it with the most satisfying sound that always came with hitting the first ball.

"You know, you have a really good throwing arm. You should really think about playing," Chrissy told her brother.

"Yeah, not a chance," Dustin said. "I told you before that the game isn't for me, I just like playing with you. I know how much you need this."

"Thanks, Dusty," Chrissy said.

She hit the softballs again and again, getting all of her frustrations out. She imagined them as Dr. Brenner's face on every single one of them. She hit the last one out of the park. Chrissy was quick to run around the bases, jumping onto the home plate with an excited yell. Dustin hollered as he ran over to her and hugged her. Chrissy hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head. God, pretty soon, he was going to be the same height as her, maybe even taller than her. She didn't want this moment to end. All of a sudden, she heard a familiar wolf whistle. Chrissy broke away from the hug and looked to find Eddie sitting in the bleachers with Hopper.

"I called him," Dustin said with a shrug. "Are you mad?"

Chrissy grinned wickedly for a moment before wandering over to the fence. Eddie met her there, sliding his fingers through the holes.

"You make sports look good, Henderson," Eddie said.

"Come around here, and I'll show you just how good they are," Chrissy said.

"That would ruin my image of being a complete and utter nerd," Eddie said.

"Don't you know?" Chrissy gasped.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"You mean, you haven't heard?" She asked.

"Heard what?" He asked.

"Jocks are nerds. Every single one of them, it's just that they don't realize it," Chrissy said.

"They're closeted nerds," Eddie said in confusion.

"Well, they obsess over the games rather enthusiastically in ways I have seen Dustin do. Some of them memorize statistics like no one's buisness. They gather together in convention like places while wearing costumes. Don't get me started on the fantasy leagues," Chrissy said. "Also, equipments like the bat. . . It's almost like wielding a sword."

"Oh my God," Dustin said in realization, standing behind her.

"Shit, those poor closeted bastards," Eddie cursed. "Do you think they take it out people like me because they don't want to admit we're the same?"

"Hm, their hate is learned behavior, passed down from people who believe their interests are better when in reality they're equal," Chrissy said. "Different interests, equally important to the people that care about it."

"Alright, you convinced me, but only because you said it's like wielding a sword," Eddie said.

He walked onto the field and plopped the helmet off of her head before sitting it on his head.

"Georgous," she said, and he cackled before getting into position. "Don't hold the bat like that!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, there's a wrong way to hold a bat?" Eddie asked.

"Yes, especially if you're pretending it's a sword. You're touching the blade," Chrissy laughed. "Unless you decided that it's an ax, then yes, that's exactly how you hold it."

Chrissy grabbed his hand and slid it a little closer to the other hand. Eddie grinned.

"How am I standing?" He asked as he slid his legs further apart in a very ridiculous way. "Is this good?"

"Close your legs, you slut," Chrissy laughed.

"Hey, are we going to play ball, or are you going to continue to flirt with my sister?!" Dustin asked.

"Is this a trick question?!" Eddie yelled back.

"Eye on the ball, Edward!" Dustin shrieked.

"Throw it, you shrimp!" Eddie exclaimed.

He hit the plate with the back and wiggled his hips wildly, squating while jutting his butt out. Chrissy snorted with laughter and held up a hand to tell Dustin to wait. She pressed her other hand to her stomach as she almost bent over laughing. Once she got control of herself, she stood behind Eddie and kicked his legs a little closer together. She pushed his butt back in a little bit before placing her hands on his hips and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

"You're standing on the battlefield. You're facing a fiercesome beast. On the other side of the beast are your friends. Do you run and hide or face the beast to save your friends? What do you say, Eddie the Banished?" Chrissy asked.

"Ugh, what are you doing to me, Chrissy Henderson?" Eddie said.

Chrissy giggled as Dustin tossed him the ball, and when he missed, Eddie yelled in frustration. Eddie managed to finally hit the ball on the third try, knocking it out of the park. Eddie whooped and started running the wrong way. He winked at Chrissy as he ran back and ran around the field. He skidded into home plate with a wide grin. He grabbed Chrissy from behind and twirled her around.

"Unhand my sister, you scoundrel!" Dustin shrieked.

"I shan't! Do you think you can defeat me?!" Eddie exclaimed as Chrissy giggled.

Dustin picked up the bat and held it out like a sword. Eddie gasped and set Chrissy down. He quickly grabbed the bat out of Dustin's hands and tossed it. Dustin shrieked and rammed into his stomach. Eddie laughed as they wrestled. Chrissy bit her lip as she watched him with her brother. She was going to do everything in her power not to hurt this man. It was days like this that having her friends, her family. . .having Eddie made things feel all better.

Chapter Eight

[spacerangersam]

If, in an alternative universe, Yonderland wasn't cancelled abruptly after the Christmas special and instead got renewed for a 4th series/season or at least the Six Idiots instead wanted to continue it one last time, what kind of storylines would you personally like to have seen explored in that hypothetical 4th series/season and why?

I've been thinking of a hypothetical 4th season for like a week now, so thank you for the chance to talk about it!

The main thing I would love to see, and basically what the entire season would be centred around in my mind, is Debbie becoming an Elder like her father! I think it'd be a nice way for her to connect with the dad she never got to meet, and just a way to cement that she'll always have a home in Yonderland/prove just how important she is to everyone there. It would be especially sweet if she could have her father's old robe and broach but idk if that would even be possible.

And I think it could have led to some interesting situations/episodes, ie:

an episode where Debbie has to go on a fetch quest to get some item that's needed to become an Elder. The Elders claim all who wish to join the council must go on this perilous quest, but after a bit of needling, they admit yeah, no, we just lost it and we need you to go get it. I would love for Negaus to get involved, like, he's determined to stop her and ruin everything- but he's bad at it and keeps accidentally helping Debbie. She doesn't realise that until the end, and when she does she's just like 'Oh! Thanks! Want to come to the ceremony? :)'. He does, he was just throwing a hissy fit because he didn't get an invitation. (Ho-Tan did send one, she just got his name wrong and it ended up with a Nagetus instead)

(Honestly, I just really want a Negatus arc where he does completely become a good guy who just awkwardly hangs around the Elders and Debbie while denying to his demons that he's good now. I think they kinda did that in the final season but I also think they kind of undid it at the end, which is a shame)

an episode where, amongst all the planning for the ceremony, Debbie's a bit sad she can't invite Pete and the kids. She admits that Elf+Nick after being mopey all episode, at which point they say no one ever told her she had to keep Yonderland a secret. She just did that (because that's the fantasy trope, that's what you do, keep it a secret) and no one thought to correct her.

an episode where she does finally, after multiple interruptions, tell Pete and bring him to Yonderland. He of course loves it, and it takes Debbie like an hour to talk him down from the idea of moving there. He immediately latches onto Negatus, thinks he's the coolest thing ever, and Negatus is very confused but happy with the attention. Pete almost dies about seven times, but it does nothing to dampen his glee. The kids think it's alright. They'd like it better if the wi-fi was good.

an episode where Debbie, Negatus and Pete go on a quest to sort out some squabble in a nearby town. Negatus and Pete are separated from Debbie and have to team up to 'save the day'. Meanwhile, she just ended up at someone's house, enjoying a cup of tea and a chat.

an episode of Elders in the real world hijinks. I think we could do with more of that, especially if it led to Debbie and Ho-tan having a clothes montage set to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. They deserve it.

and of course, an episode with big, grand 'crowning' ceremony with the Elders, Pete, and Negatus desperately trying to make sure everything goes to plan and refusing to let Debbie know/help, Elf and Nick doing their best to distract her. Somehow, it all works out in the end though and Debbie becomes an Elder, surrounded by her all of her family

[cherokeecharles]

#Hottakes #11: White Mediocrity at The Grammy’s Isn’t a Surprise Anymore.

It wouldn’t be award season if we weren’t talking about white mediocrity being rewarded or people being surprised that it was awarded. The never-ending saga of ‘I can’t believe Taylor won over [insert great black artist here]’ is now plaguing my timeline for the time being and what better way to break my silence?

During my writing hiatus, I went on an inspiration scavenger hunt—poking around pop culture, TV, music, and yes, even sports (times are tough, sisters). Yet, nothing sparked that writing flame. Then came the Grammys buzz, the usual drill: nominations, snubs, and the betting game of who should win versus who will win. We all would like to think of ourselves as Grammy psychics to some degree. So, imagine my surprise at the post-Grammys shockwave. Why the gasps for the winners? Why the faux shock when black artists get the snub? And seriously, why keep submitting music if it's playing hide-and-seek with recognition? It's like sending your resume to a job that never calls back—maybe it's time to rethink the application process, huh?

Jay-Z delivered a powerful speech while receiving his honoree Hip Hop award. Rather than talking about his accomplishment he went on to give a rant about his wife, Beyoncé, being the most awarded Grammy winner yet always falling short of her peers of winning the coveted Record of the Year award. The speech was compelling and it reflected what many of us said for years. I would’ve been moved by the speech if I knew they weren’t going to keep submitting their music to be snubbed yearly. The speech reflected all of my thoughts of Beyoncé being categorically snubbed every year for that award that we know is likely missing from her résumé. However, I don’t like the fact that it’s being deemed that she’s missing this one thing from greatness. Beyoncé is great on her own and her career, music, and work ethic back up that claim. I think that it’s unfair that her ‘shortcoming’ amounted to an award where the line is always moving.

The award show progressed, and we’re all left to simmer with Jay-Z's speech about snubbing at the Grammys. The end of the award show comes around, and the last and biggest award is Album of the Year. The album of the year award was presented by the one and only Celine Dion. The Album of the Year award is a coveted award, it’s essentially the album that shaped the year we just went through, and the cultural and social impact of said album are factors into who gets the win, or so I thought. The category for album of the year was groundbreaking on its own because this is the first time it has ever had seven of the eight nominations be women. The category on its own with poised for someone who showed great artistry through one album that spoke to the public, and to the Grammy voters. Imagine the lack of surprise on my face when Taylor Swift won. Taylor Swift’s album Midnights won the most desired award beating out SZA’s SOS, Miley Cyrus’ Endless Summer, Janelle Monae’s Age of Pleasure, etc. This Album of the Year award made Taylor Swift the most winningest recipient of the award receiving the most nominations and win in this category.

The aftermath was a storm of criticism that hit Taylor Swift like a hurricane. From her award-acceptance antics to dropping her album bombshell mid-show and dragging poor Lana Del Rey on stage, Swift's behavior was undeniably tacky. But let's not kid ourselves—the uproar wasn't just about her manners. It was the fact that she clinched the Grammys' holy grail, becoming the all-time winningest. Viewers collectively winced, wondering why Taylor got the crown instead of, say, SZA. We act shocked, but really, we've read the exposés, pondered the think pieces, and still tune in annually. Artists keep submitting, black artists keep getting snubbed. If Taylor's the poster child for white mediocrity, why do we willingly sign up for this annual masochism? It's like déjà vu with a side of irony.

I'm not exactly Taylor Swift's number-one fan (and never will be), and I join the chorus of critics giving her the side-eye. But what grinds my gears is the phony shock everyone's putting on. Sure, there are more deserving artists out there, and it's downright ludicrous that a powerhouse like Beyoncé hasn't snagged the top prize. Yet, when does the surprise party end? We've witnessed Grammys snubs so brutal they make 2024 look like a tea party. That's why Jay-Z's speech didn't move my needle. Valid points, definitely, but let's be real, you're still cashing in those Grammy chips and probably gonna play again. Our beloved artists secretly crave that Recording Academy nod and that's why they keep tossing their tunes into the Grammy ring. It's like a messed-up lottery where, once in a blue moon, an artist (looking at you, Zayn and The Weeknd) says, "Enough is enough!" If it's a rigged game, why keep rolling the dice? If you know the ending, why splurge on the movie ticket?

The Grammys will persist as the top accolade artists crave for artistic validation. However, it's crucial to grasp that Grammy wins don't make or break careers. Complaining without a push for change is futile. The Grammys will keep snubbing until artists stop submitting. Despite acknowledging the celebration of mediocrity, there's a glaring lack of transformative action. Perhaps, giving Grammys less power than fans and artists do is key. Even Beyoncé, the greatest artist, faces snubs. Does she need another Grammy to prove her greatness? No, because she already is. Embracing this mindset could make music more enjoyable, sans the Grammy obsession.

What do you guys think? Do you think artist should continue to submit their music to the Grammys? Do you think the Grammys are losing their credibility every year go on? What can the Grammys do to gain back the credibility?

Let me know what you think!

Until then…

Cherokee🤎✨

[gudvina]

SEVEN KINGS MUST DIE OPINIONS

This post is a series of various ramblings about the movie!!! please do not read the extended version of this post if you want to avoid spoilers! last warning: THIS POST IS BASICALLY ONE SPOILER AFTER THE OTHER!!!!

I had an inkling this movie wasn't going to be incredibly thorough as the series was (and even the series was often a little rushed), but i feel it maintained a strong tie to the series, and while a little rushed it managed to give us some kind of closure.

OPINIONS:

the opening was amazing, loved how it took scenes from the movie and rendered it in the usual opening

Ingrith and Finan were so sweet, i was incredibly saddened that they didn't show them having kids or having more happy moments. Finan's reaction at her death was very sad, and i think it was unfair that we didn't get to know anything about his life post the events of the movie. Good though that it is implied at the end that Finan survives Uhtred.

what about Sihtric's wife/children???? again, we were left wondering about them but not only didn't she appear, his children weren't even in the picture. We are left wondering about them, unfortunately. Good thing though that he survived!!!

We knew baby Uhtred is in Rome; again, where is Stiorra????

Eadgifu's character was put to test this season but i am glad she was consistent with her s5 characterization. she is truly an amazing woman!

Eadgifu and the subtext with Uhtred was something i did not expect but liked! She matched Uhtred's maturity, and I liked the way they supported each other for their children.

Athelstan!!!! okay, while i am disappointed it wasn't Osbert the one to be coupled up with him, i really liked his arc. I love how they explored his feelings over his homosexuality, his guilt and how it tied directly to the story. He acted out of desperation at first, but then came around to his duty and a newfound purpose that wasn't anymore a means to get away from his sins, but something he truly wanted for himself and his people. His complex relationship with Uhtred was shown in a way that for once didn't involve Uhtred behaving stupidly, showing he's definitely grown from the man he once was.

No Hild disappointed me but good for her for getting away from these problems once again!!!

Aldhelm's death:((((

Astrid & Arnalf: now i think this is where the movie threw away its chances of developing a bit more the Dane antagonists! In this season particularly Astrid didn't have any other purpose other than to be the cause of Aldhelm's death, and serve as a plot device to further the story. Arnalf's motivation could have been better explored too.

Osbert's character wasn't very fleshed out, and i disliked that it wasn't even mentioned a conflict between him and Uhtred for the abandonment. Not an explanation, nothing. I do like him though, he reminds me of a younger Uhtred, and I find heartwarming his friendship with Edmund (though even that one is briefly shown).

The end of the movie wasn't bad, though it was interesting. in a way i felt like it was incredibly satisfying, since it didn't show us exactly what happened to Uhtred in the end, though it implied him entering in Valhalla. We don't know what happens after to him, but we know he was loved and he existed, and this series + the movie gives us a glimpse to a secret only we know. Despite it being a rushed ending, i will say that it was a good and satisfying one, and seeing Brida and Ragnar the Fearless truly warmed me. I wished we could have gotten a glimpse of Gisela but oh well, i understand Peri Baumeister was probably busy.

In the end I feel like the main problem of the movie was how rushed it was, and how poorly fleshed out were the characters we were following. That didn't hinder my enjoyment of it, though, and as i said it was very satisfying and in a way i love that we are left filling the gaps they left open.

Is it the best closure to TLK? maybe not, but unfortunately a 2 hour movie would never be able to give all we needed as fans of the serie, so what we got in comparison to many bad movies/sequels out there was a very well made final product.

I feel like upon rewatching both the serie and the movie i will come to love it fully! I have other thoughts, but for now these are my face value disconnected opinions.

I will miss these characters so much, they accompanied me all these years and brought me close to so many people! Hoping to continue enjoying them through the amazing fanwork this fandom continues to create!!!