#it's like... not even half the ideas I have for them. there are so many gaps in canon where *anything* could have happened

[anakinstwinklebunny]

FUTUREDAD!ANAKIN HEAD CANNONS 🍼

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

🍼 Futuredad!Anakin who was so damn excited after you've announced him your pregnancy that he couldn't shut his mouth abt it for weeks

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who is obsessed how your body changes due to pregnancy. He'd definitely eye you up and down more often, stopping at your swollen breasts or round belly

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who makes sure you're all comfortable whenever you can

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who rests his head against your belly bump while you play with his curls. He'd start telling you about his day, drawing small circles on your belly before he falls asleep

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who loves to stroke/touch your belly skin-to-skin. Always, when you two are alone, would lift your shirt and run his hands over the swollen area

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who talks to the baby in womb. He'd just plant gentle kisses along with child's movements, whispering some words like.."look at you..so strong already" / "such a responsive baby..bet you're gonna have my looks and mommy's personality, hm?" / "yeah, you're gonna move more? Gonna just respond to daddy's silly talks?"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who uses the force to calm down your baby when it's movements get uncomfortable

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who tries to keep you happy all the time;

"Ani" you whine softly, shaking his arm so he'd wake up

With a small gasp that ended his soft, quiet snores he stirred awake "what?" his voice was raspy, almost begging you to let him go back to sleep

"wanna ice cream.." you whisper a bit shyly, knowing the hour of your tempting craving

Anakin would sigh as his eyes met the light digits on electric clock standing still on his nightstand "love, it's almost 4am..just try to fall asleep, s'gonna go away.." his arm covered the half of his face

This made you frown, having a damn human being inside your body wasn't the easiest thing in the word and trying to shoot the craving out by getting sleep wasn't the most pleasant idea "c'mon Ani.." you whined again, not letting go of shaking his arm "it won't..the baby needs ice cream and sleep isn't the way out of it"

Another sigh left his mouth, this time more of a surrender, since how could he argue with a pregnant woman? He rubbed his face before pulling the blanket away from his body "alright, alright..guess I can't argue with the baby"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who makes sure to compliment you since your body is changing and he knows how psychically overwhelming it may be

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who accidentally would drink your breast milk thinking it's a real one

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who loves how your body changes. The swell on your belly from his child, swollen breasts that he'd definitely pay more attention to whenever he can catch a glimpse of you just walking and them jingling or whenever you innocently change your clothes before him

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who can't help but make love to you (very gentle way to call it) silly while his eyes are taking in your bouncing breasts from his thrusts

"A-ani..you're gonna hurt the baby" you mewl

"Bullshit..had been reading about this all day sweetheart.." he groaned "the baby won't even know that I'm gonna fuck another one in that pretty womb" (guys I know you mostly can't get pregnant WHILE being pregnant but it just gives me ani talk vibes)

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who gets a bit concerned if he for sure didn't hurt you or the baby after sex. Would try not to leave any marks on your belly and lower body

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who helps you with basic things that started to be troubling for you. Like tying your shoes, bending down to grab things and etc

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who got concerned after he caught you going to the bathroom too many (for him) times. He'd spend most of the day educating himself about pregnancy to understand you better, to help you with other things and to just know more

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would pout, trying to put a diaper on the newborn doll. He'd look around the room at other parents that attended to antenatal class and actually frown when he tried to copy their movements but it only became a worse mess

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who educates himself about parenting. Would watch different videos and read books between his daily tasks

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would absolutely freak out when your waters broke;

"God, god, god..where is it?!" he anxiously searched for the bag with all the things already set up for birth

"Anakin!"

"Here you are" he murmured to himself, almost tripping downstairs "shit--coming sweetheart!"

"Just breathe..it's gonna be okay.." he exhaled, tapping on the steering wheel as he waited for the green light to appear

"I am breathing"

"I was saying it to myself.." he murmured, hoping you actually didn't hear that

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would argue with doctors about staying by your side during birth. He promised he'd be there and help you as much as he can and the thought of not being there was horrifying to him

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who praises you and encourages you to keep pushing. Would stroke your stuck from sweat hair out of your forehead, kissing your head, running his thumb over your knuckles

"C'mon sweetheart, you can do it.." / "you're doing so great baby, one more push and it's gonna be all over" / "you're so strong.. m'so proud of you.."

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would cry his eyes out while holding and acknowledging that he has a baby girl in his arms

"Look at you..you're so small" / "so tiny..my little girl, my little princess, my shining star"

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who's the best girl dad ever. Trying to do her hair (watched a lot of videos on how to do it just so he can make her a braid), playing with her in tea party, letting her paint his face (of course he'd be a little grumpy but never taking it out on her), DEFINITELY doing all other things like taking her on to pod races while they two eat popcorn and dish about everyone with almost the same frown

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who would be unstoppable duo with his little girl; both probably hating sand, doing all mischievous things and this attitudeeeee

🍼Futuredad!Anakin who wouldn't stop at one kid with you (if you'd even want more)

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @heartsforanakin @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydenlovers @haydensprettyprincess @lunalitva @catnipaddictt

(if you want to be on the tag list or removed then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[brainrot-of-a-thot]

Hello! Could I request some fluff?

If you would, could you write this for Suo, Umemyia and Togame?

What is something that their crush does that makes them short circuit? Like something that makes fall even hard, that makes them exe.stopped moment please?

Thank you!

cuteness overload.

or, sometimes you’re just too cute, featuring: jo togame, hajime umemiya, suo hayato

a/n: uwu fluff i love fluff~ makes me feel so giddy when I write it. suo’s is actually kinda long wtf it’s a blurb damnit

c/w: fem!reader, crushes, fluff, pining?, headcanon blurb format, language, soft!boys, lovey dovey~

note: also, thank y’all so so much for 150+ followers. like that’s just insane, gwaaaaah. it’s like my blog grew overnight and I just ToT!! thank you thank you thank you!!! it’s all thanks to you sexy babes!!

jo togame is absolutely enamored by the way you have to look up at him to talk to him.

it’s a consistent thing you do — you pretty much have to, considering the height difference between you two. but it never fails to make his heart skip a beat.

but, of course, you have to make it a thousand times cuter by adding your own little quirks to it; such as bouncing on the balls of your feet, or standing up on your tippy toes to ‘reach him better’, or the cute little head tilts you do when you ask a question or couldn’t quite catch his words.

but what stalled his engines, killed his brain process, and completely rewired his chemical balance was the day you surged your hands up to pull him down into a chaste kiss. even with him slightly bent to reach you, you still stood on your very tippy toes to slot your lips to his in the most comfortable way.

it lasted all of two seconds, but it was enough to leave togame feeling giddy about it for months after — and even after experiencing it hundreds of times within those few months, it still made his brain short circuit when it happened.

hajime umemiya simply adores the way you try to keep up with him.

he’s got long legs, and it’s all too easy for him to scale many feet with just a few steps — but for you, it’s an endurance battle. even umemiya’s casual strides seem more like a dash, and your legs have to work overtime to keep up with him.

he doesn’t mean to be cruel or unsympathetic; he just can’t hold back his urges at times. umemiya always feels warm when he ‘accidentally’ leaves you in the dust and you scramble to catch up to him, a pout on your lips as you loop your arms around his and force him to match your pace. it makes him feel wanted and needed — and when he’s wanted and needed by you, it’s a feeling akin to heaven.

but the day that all came to a stop was the same day that you caused him to short circuit.

umemiya was doing the same thing he normally did (usually at least once each day) and you reacted in the same way that you had each and every time; except when you looked up at him, you weren’t wearing your signature pout — instead, your brows were scrunched up and your eyes welled with fat tears.

“ume, don’t leave me behind again…” you whisper-croaked, and umemiya was torn in half by the sudden onslaught of ‘oh, no’ and ‘too cute’ that ravaged his brain.

it was cute because you were so distraught by the idea of him leaving you behind, but it was also terrible because you were so distraught by the idea of him leaving you behind.

after that, umemiya never walked ahead of you — he always walked beside you, or behind you; but never ahead.

suo hayato had never entertained the idea of falling in love. it wasn’t that he was objective to it; he figured that at some point it would happen, and he’d just roll with it when it did. but he certainly didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

suo couldn’t quite help it, though. you were a magnetic force, bubbly and sweet and outgoing. you didn’t know a stranger, and showing affection was just second nature to you. you had this (slightly irritating) ability to make someone feel like they were the center of the universe when you interacted with them — and left them feeling incredibly jealous when you did so with another person (or maybe that was just suo who felt that way.)

but what suo loved the most about you was your enthusiastic optimism towards the future. your views on that were a near contrast to suo’s; suo preferred to live in the present, leave the past behind, and simply wait for the future. he felt that focusing too much on the past or the future would take away the sensation of being in the present, so he blocked both of them out in order to fully immerse himself into where he was now.

but you… you talked about the future constantly. passionately. and, contrary to most people who daydreamed about the future, you strived in your present to secure that future you were so passionate about. suo would listen to you ramble for hours on end, never losing interest or falling tired — your voice was simply magnificent.

and that was what he was doing on that particular day, sitting across from you in a quaint little resto-cafe, chin in palm and slowly stirring his quickly cooling coffee as you rambled. you were talking about interior design, something you were highly fervid about, when you said the words that made his heart skip a beat.

“…and I think we should open a tea-house together. I mean, your tea-steeping skills are amazing, and with my eye for design, we could get really popular!”

you were still rambling, but suo had stopped listening. not that he wanted to stop listening — but his mind was stuck on a loop right now.

we. we. we.

you’d spoke of the future many times, but that was the first time you’d included him in it. suo’s heart was completely palpitating in his chest, snippets of a future with you crashing into one another while that little word repeated itself in his mind — courting — we — dates, — we —, buying a house, marriage, kids…

it all splayed across his mind like a movie reel, and before suo could put much conscious thought behind it, he was smiling at you and whole-heartedly agreeing to your idea.

[burntheedges]

Maintenance Request Epilogue

Joel Miller x f!reader  18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 986

a/n: well, y'all. We made it. 😭 I hope you enjoy this peek into our favorite couple's lives. Thank you all so much for reading.

I have loved seeing all of your reactions and answering your asks about the fic this week (please keep sending more for the celebration if you'd like!). There will be more asks going up today and I'm linking them on the masterlist for the fic as I post them.

I'm getting emotional again. Thank you all. You're the best and I mean that so sincerely. 🧡 and thank you, as always, to @katareyoudrilling 🧡 I think we'll be back to visit these two (I've already got plans for something about Joel finding the poem from Ch 23 thanks to an ask from @toomanytookas) but this is it for the main story. (Also, today is my birthday, so thank you for celebrating with me.)

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, cuddling, pet names (darlin', honey, baby), allusions to smut

Epilogue

Saturday, May 10 Summer Break

It was a beautiful late spring day, with a light breeze rustling through Joel’s back garden. You stood on the back porch and turned your face to the sun, smiling at the view.

You were tired – you’d lifted so many boxes already that day, you couldn’t bring yourself to even consider opening any of them right now. As you tried and failed to will yourself to at least make a plan, you felt Joel step up behind you. He slid his arms around your waist and tucked his face into your neck.

“I like the way you look on this porch, darlin’. The way your stuff looks in the house. Our house.” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “Looks right.” 

You grinned and leaned into him. “Well, that’s good, considering it’s way too late to change your mind now. All my books are here.” He huffed a laugh into your neck. “Once we mix them in with yours there’s no turning back. Gave up my keys and everything.” He pressed his smile into your neck in response.

You’d agreed to move in after the semester ended. Tommy, Beth, and Maria had helped, though they’d just left a few minutes ago – Tommy and Maria to return the moving truck, and Beth to pick up dinner. Tess had threatened Joel that he better have a housewarming party for you or else since she couldn’t make it.

You’d just gotten tired of lugging boxes around and stepped outside to see what Sarah, Ellie and Riley were up to. A sudden shout from the far end of the backyard drew your attention and you lifted up on your toes to try to see over Joel’s many plants. 

He did the same, arms still wrapped around you, and asked, “any idea what those three hooligans are doing back there?”

You laughed. “Well, judging by the stuff they dragged back there with them, I have a pretty good idea.”

“Oh?” He nuzzled into your neck again, clearly not too concerned with their antics.

You nodded. “Mentos. And Diet Coke.” 

He laughed, loud this time. “You’re kidding. They just discovered that old trick?”

“Seems so.”

“Feels like a different student tries it every term, so I guess I’m not surprised.” He sighed. “At least if they do it back there we don’t really have to clean it up, much.”

You elbowed him a little. “My thoughts exactly.” You were both quiet for a moment and you felt Joel relax into position behind you, leaning against the wall of the house and drawing you backwards to lean on him. 

“You think Elllie’s got a plan for her room, yet?” He sounded concerned, but you knew it was because he was anxious to help her however he could. 

“Yeah, she wants to freehand it. Some kind of mural.”

“Sounds like it’ll probably be pretty impressive. We can get her some paints, maybe tomorrow.” 

You smiled at his offer. “Poor Tommy, kicked out of his room.” 

Joel laughed at your words, but you felt him shake his head. “He’s busy with Maria, he don’t mind. Got better things to worry about these days.” You hummed, agreeing. “You know, darlin’, we got about half an hour before any of them get back.” He punctuated his statement with a quick nip to your neck and a thrust of his hips. 

You snorted. “Joel Miller, are you propositioning me? In front of the kids?” You waved your arm towards the back of the yard.

He huffed a laugh into your neck. “They can’t hear us and I’ve been dying to get you alone all day. Honey, you live here now. You aren’t going to leave later because you’re already home. It’s driving me crazy just thinkin’ about it.” 

You let your head fall back on his shoulder and grinned. “Half an hour, huh? Not a lot of time.”

He started pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck and you squirmed against him. “Enough time to make you come on my mouth, baby.” 

You started to turn in his arms, already giving in, when there was a sudden, whooshing eruption and shrieks coming from the back of the yard. You laughed. “Sounds like they figured it out.”

“Hmm, let’s worry about that later.” He grinned at you as he started to walk backwards into the house, taking your hands in his to lead you. “We got things to do and the clock is ticking.”

Both of you started giggling as you dashed up the stairs. You almost fell into his (your) room and caught yourself on the dresser. He grinned at you as he closed the door before grabbing you by the waist to guide you onto the bed. “Pants off, darlin’. Let me show you how happy I am to have you home.”

Home. You smiled and did as he asked.

He was right, after all. You were home.

…

...Then love comes, like a sudden flight of birds from earth to heaven after rain. Your kiss, recalled, unstrings, like pearls, this chain of words. Huge skies connect us, joining here to there. Desire and passion on the thinking air. -- From “Rapture” by Carol Ann Duffy

It was like getting a love letter from a tree Eyes closed forever to find you— There is a life which if I could have it I would have chosen for myself from the beginning -- “The Poem” by Franz Wright

...

a/n: thank you all. 🧡

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[plentyoffandoms]

Foolish

Lord Remington x f/Reader

Main Masterlist ♡ Bridgerton Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs and photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @fictionalred

Warnings. One use of the word cripple

WC: 792

The Bath Chair - 1800s word for wheelchair

"You can not marry that man!" My mother practically screeched at me. My siblings all but have left the property, not wanting to deal with her yelling.

Oh, how I wish I could have left.

"And why not? He is from an established household. His family owns many properties, and they are well off. Every single item you told me to look for when finding a suitable match for myself, Mother."

That's not what I had on my list for an eligible husband. I wanted someone who was kind, smart, and loved the arts.

Who actually could hold a proper conversation with me, and not shy away at my quick wit. I am not a stupid woman, and I refuse to dumb myself down for any man.

"That may be, but you can not be with a man like him."

"And what type of man is he is? He is Lord Remington." I made sure to emphasize the Lord.

"Do not make me say it." She threatened.

"Say what, Mother? Please do tell me what is so wrong with the man who proposed to me." I have never been this way with her, but I refuse to back down.

"He is a cripple." She finally said, and I pretended to be shocked at the news.

"Well, Mother. I never knew that. I thought he just liked being pushed around Ton in his bath chair."

"I will not be spoken to like this. I am your mother, and you will listen to me."

"You told me that I am old enough to be looking for a husband, and I choose Lord Remington. He is a good man whose family has accepted what is so different about him, and I have too."

"He went behind my back and asked you. He is not a proper gentleman." She is grasping at anything now.

"Lord Remington went to Arthur and asked his permission, which is the proper way as he is the oldest son and head of our family since Father passed away."

After the two of them had their chat, Arthur told him that he would think about it and get back to him.

Arthur came and told me what happened, and he could tell how happy I was, and he gave his blessing for the two of us.

"He can not give you children, and what is a woman without children?" She questioned as she sat in her chair.

I wanted to scoff at her old-fashioned ideas, but many people still believed this.

I took my spot across from her and took a deep breath. "I will be his wife, I will still be your daughter, a sister, an aunt when the time comes. I am still a very much a woman, even if I do not have children."

"How will you consummate the marriage? That must be done."

"Now, mother, that will be none of your concern, as that will be a private matter between him and I."

"As your mother, I forbid you from marrying him." I stood up, my gaze looking her up and down. "Like I said, Arthur has agreed to this and has paid my dowry already. Either be a part of your eldest daughters wedding, or do not. I will be Lady Remington either way."

I turned to leave her alone in our sitting room. "You are bringing shame to our family."

I stopped and did not bother turning around, "I believe it is you who is bringing shame to our family, as you can not see what a wonderful man he is."

I left her there, crying. A mere half hour ago, I would have turned back around and worked things out with her, but no, not this time.

◆

My mother did not come to my wedding, and neither did my younger brothers and sister, but my four older brothers were there. Arthur walked me down the aisle.

During our reception, my darling husband asked me to dance, and when I asked him how? He told me not to worry about it.

The music started, and he pulled me into his lap, making me giggle, but the music faded, and it was like we were the only ones in the room.

"I am sorry your mother didn't come." He whispered to me as we were pushed around to the music.

"Her own choice. She was invited." I reminded him.

"I know I am not what she imagined," I cut him off.

"But you are what I imagined. You are perfect for me."

He smiled and kissed me, our guests muttering about how in love we are.

That night, our first night together, I found out that we could consummate our marriage and that it happened not once but twice before we fell asleep.

[brucewaynehater101]

for Jack Al Ghul

Talia honestly forgot about Jack once he was gone, he had been deemed worthless in her father's eyes and was therefore worthless to her. If she ever thought about him at all, she assumed his corpse was dropped in a ditch somewhere and then continued her own training. She had no knowledge of the family that took in Jack. Ra's also had no knowledge of the family that took in Jack. Ra's half expected the minion assigned to take Jack away would have just killed the kid and fed the body to pigs. Under the idea that Ra's is filthy rich, the amount that the Drakes receive for taking care of Jack is a pittance to the demon head and is part of the maintenance of minion budget so not even the regular payments to Jack's new family would remind him of his failure of a son. The accountant in charge of sending the payments is used to long timeframes of semi immortals and so rather than stopping the payments when Jack is eighteen or twenty one, keeps them going until Jack marries Janet with the idea that someone who's married is almost certainly an adult, probably. There's one last bigger than usual payment, directly to Jack, as a wedding present.

Talia would have no idea that Tim was her nephew prior to sending Damian to his father and likely wouldn't find out at all until well after the Brucequest. If Ra's found out during the Brucequest, it's doubtful that he'd tell anyone until he'd made his decision whether or not to accept that Tim is actually of Al Ghul blood. After he kicks Tim out the window and decides, yes, this is his grandson, this boy is worthy of his blood, maybe he'd mention it to Talia in a "why can't damian be more like his cousin?" sort of way, but by then it would be too late for Talia to inspire more reasons for Damian to hate Tim.

Ra's al Ghul being a fucking troll by casually dropping "why can't Damian be more like his cousin?" knowing full well that Talia didn't know this information before. That's a fantastic way for him to tell her.

I agree that it could be likely that Ra's and the LoA forgot about Jack. It makes me curious how many family members are out there forgotten (and how many Tim and Damian run into [probably while said family member is trying to kill them]).

Does Jack know he's adopted and the payments came from his bio family?

[rewritingcanon]

what do u think of the portrayal of harry and ginny in the cursed child (i feel like it's so out of character, especially for harry) also that he works at the ministry and that ginny gave up her quidditch career (same goes for harry)

alright ive had this in my inbox for so long because i wanted to do this ask justice so i really hope that anon is still around to read this. in saying that harry was ‘out of character’ in hpcc, i assume you’re talking about how he was a bad/flawed father, as MANY fans have argued the same. so i will address that first and then i will talk about ginny and hinny’s careers.

disclaimer: when i say “you” im not talking specifically about anon but about fandom.

harry potter vs fatherhood

harry’s whole life resolved around being the chosen one and the prophesied saviour of the wizarding world. it was either being The Hero or being the unwanted, abused and scorned freak living with the dursleys. when thats your home life, then you tend to cling on to anything that is an escape from that— and in harry’s experience that was hogwarts.

if you really think about it, hogwarts was very nasty to harry as well. he was always getting picked on or bullied or in some life threatening danger that he got blamed for half of the time— but because it was better than living with the dursleys, his mind idolised it as a safe haven.

harry also reflects this idolising behaviour onto parental figures, especially paternal figures. he doesnt actually know his parents, only has an ideal of them in his head that was constructed as a coping mechanism to the abuse and neglect he went through at home. he projects The Perfect Father onto every one of his paternal figures (i think the only exception to this is arthur but i mayyy be wrong)— sirius and dumbledore are the biggest ones that come to mind, even though sirius only knew him for two years, and dumbledore would manipulate and use harry for the betterment of the world, which is unlike a parent who would put their child’s needs first (harry did not recognise these issues at length at the time as he was used to the idea of self sacrifice and probs understood that it came with the territory of being The Hero). harry even projected his father onto himself in PoA and nearly died from it.

in saying this, its reasonable to argue that there’s a disconnect with harry and the idea of what a good father actually is. this is challenged in the books itself (with SWM, harry seeing that james was not the Perfect Man he built up in his head), but this is challenged the most in the cursed child.

throughout the play, harry acts as the personified ideal he grew up with. easygoing, confident, wise— when in reality he is the opposite of those attributes and albus can see right through it (ginny says this to harry in the play, i would find the line but alas, im on the train rn). hes not easygoing or confident— he’s fearful that he doesn’t know what hes doing or how to be a father, and hes scared not knowing makes him a bad father. hes acted out in fear multiple times— the biggest moment is when he bans albus from seeing scorpius to keep him ‘safe.’ he has constant nightmares about his trauma as a child when living with the dursleys and not having the stability or love he craved. his ‘wise’ advice is not applicable to his children because he is harry potter, The Hero, and they are just normal kids. this is why albus and harry get on each others nerves so badly— because they are constantly stomping on each others sore spots by accident. albus doesn’t appreciate the facade that harry tries to uphold, and harry doesn’t understand why— because he’s projecting that ideal onto all of his kids, and if it works for james and lily (presumably), why doesn’t it work for albus? harry would’ve done anything for a father figure like himself!! there must be something wrong with albus!! (🙄)

now The Blanket SceneTM is very controversial and pissed off a lot of longtime fans into denouncing the entire play as canon. ive talked about it at length and since theres more to discuss in this post, i will shorten it down as best i can for you:

as a way of bonding, harry tries to give his precious blanket to albus. he believes albus may be more like him and may be able to understand the sacredness of the present unlike his siblings.

unknowingly, harry is still projecting his ideals onto albus. the blanket is only so extremely precious to him because it represents his parents, who he still views in an idolised light. therefore the blanket is the ideal.

albus scorns this ideal so he scorns the gift. however, because hes a confused and possibly depressed fourteen year old, he doesn’t communicate the rejection of this in a healthy way and basically insults the blanket by calling it old and mouldy and comparing it to james and lily’s presents, which outwardly could make him seem like a brat.

by attacking the blanket, he attacks harry’s parents and the ideal. and harry is very sensitive about this

albus then accidentally triggers very central fears surrounding being an orphan and being a father when he says “i wish you werent my dad”

harrys first thought is that albus wants him dead. at this point, hes stopped listening to albus trying to explain himself as he’s already triggered, so he’s acting in complete defence when he responds “sometimes i wish you werent my son”

this was said with the intention to hurt albus, it was a mindless act with one goal. saying this is out of character for harry is ridiculous, because he’s done the exact same thing in the books multiple times to the people he loves.

another important note: these characters trigger each other accidentally. the intent to connect is there, but there are deep seated issues on harry’s side that was never confronted leading to these issues. and as albus is a young angsty teen who does get bullied and is a little self-centred (again, very normal for a 14yo), he can’t really communicate these issues to harry effectively (harry being dismissive of the bullying (that he believes is normal for hogwarts students) albus goes through doesn’t help the situation either), leaving harry stumbling in the dark and further emboldening that The Perfect Father he imagined as a child may not exist.

ok that wasnt very economical but anyways! those are the issues! what happens next is harry spiralling and confirming those fears, being forced to confront them and deal with them, and then the steps toward healing his relationship with albus.

im not defending how harry treated albus (dismissing his bullying, lashing out, the enmeshment abuse) but offering insight and trying to explain that he was certainly in-character. i think people simply had an emotional reaction to seeing their loved character being very realistically flawed, and decided they didnt like it without doing much analysis as to why harry was acting the way he was. trauma is very complex, and theres no expiry date for it if you simply refuse to confront it or heal.

a lot of harry’s journey with interrogating the Perfect Father concept was to confront and acknowledge his inner child. he has to recognise his childhood for the childhood it was without the flashy titles or impressed ideals. the confrontation with dumbledore is the pinnacle of it— harry idolised dumbledore as a central father figure, and he realised when confronting the portrait that his relationship with dumbledore was much more complex and nuanced than he originally thought. suddenly dumbledore ceases to be an ideal, and harry sees him for the man that he was: conflicted, more uncertain in his own choices than he let on, heartbroken and self-sabotaging.

when harry presents himself at the end of the play to albus, he presents himself as human— an escapist, unsure in his decisions, insecure, and scared of the dark, small spaces and pigeons. and albus appreciates the flawed, real version of harry. those expectations and ideals that albus struggled to uphold in the face of harry’s projecting simply disappear, and he finally feels like he can adequately be harry’s son just by being.

another less obvious moment that shows this, is how harry and delphi mirror each other. delphi is the more extreme version of this— she is completely deluded in her worship for a father she never knew, so desperate for the love and respect shes built up in her mind that she’s dedicated her life to it and feels empty without the ideal to go off of. its why harry defends her when albus asks him why they shouldn’t just kill her— because hes the only one who understands the pain of being an orphan, living in an abusive household, dreams of ‘what ifs’ and what it can do to a person.

whats important to take away is that harry and albus love each other immensely, which is why they are able to turn over a new leaf at the end. it speaks of incredible strength on albus’ half, and i really want to stress that albus LOVES harry, because i see so much content about him straight up butchering or slandering harry when that is sooo not them!! if albus saw the way some of yall were misinterpreting his relationship with his dad he’d be livid. whether or not you would do the same in forgiving harry is irrelevant— albus has always wanted to have a good relationship with harry and the same goes both ways. people hurt each other, sometimes egregiously so, but when one promises change and is serious about it, than chances are there will be change. this is especially so in the case of family.

ginny weasley vs age

what is paradoxical is how self-centred harry is, despite also being very willing to sacrifice himself for other people. albus possesses a self-centredness similar to him. harry is so caught up in his own world and comparing it to albus’ situation, and vice versa. ginny is normally the middle man who can see both harry and albus for what they are and the individual worlds they inhabit, and tries to communicate effectively between them. the play mostly revolves around harry and albus, so what i’ll have to say for her will not be as in-depth.

short answer: ginny matured with age. she is probably the most mature character alongside draco, although draco does let his emotions get in the way at times (funnily enough i think this is why ginny and draco get along so well in the cursed child and are able to recognise each other for who they are). she was very brash and courageous and wonderfully chaotic in the books, but she was also blunt and impatient, which is not something thats presented in the cursed child. instead, she is VERY patient and communicates extremely well, being able to navigate both harry and albus without prodding their weak spots like they do to each other.

she offers her own experiences to albus as her own experiences, not projecting them onto him as an unequivocal truth. this can be seen in how she opens up to him about how she was exploited by tom riddle, and she lets albus draw his own comparisons to himself and delphi without pushing his experiences into a box.

her relationship with harry is interesting, because she is the only one who sees him for him and the only one that harry’s not bothered by when she makes honest judgments on his actions. he’s only okay with her seeing him for the flawed man he is. she doesn’t make him feel defensive, nor does she make him feel demonised for not knowing how to parent albus, or for messing up with him (though she does call him out when he is in the wrong, something her younger self would be quick to do too). one of the most heart wrenching scenes is when ginny blows up at harry and really screams at him about albus being missing and him being self-centred about it, making it out to be about himself and his issues surrounding fatherhood. despite this, harry does not get defensive— which shows that he trusts even her negative judgments of him because she knows him so well (very very similar to the library scene with scorpius screaming at albus over his self-centeredness as well btw).

she still possesses key qualities from her younger self, she’s just ironed out the rougher ones as she’s grown— she’s still impossibly brave, fiercely loyal, extremely devoted to those she loves and also very logical. you can tell harry and albus are more emotional than she is, which is part of the reason why she is able to construct her points so effectively. she puts her logical thinking to good use in emotional situations. i think people are forgetting that people aren’t typically going to be the same as who they were as teenagers.

why has ginny been able to grow so much in comparison to harry? because she’s recognised what she went through as a teenager and made peace with it. you can see it in the way she freely offers her own experiences about it. she’s been able to build on top of what she went through in a healthy way, and was able to experience real, healthy change. and she is so much wiser and kinder for it.

hinny vs their careers

first i’ll talk about harry because i think i have more stuff to go off of with him.

we’ve already established that hes The Hero first and foremost. after he fulfilled the prophecy and saved the world i dont think its such a stretch to argue that he may have needed another similar purpose to latch onto, and that being an auror granted him that. quidditch was fun for him, but it couldn’t give him the same purchase that being an auror could. heroes dont play quidditch, they save the world. the same could be said for neville and ron, who were also aurors at first. was it the healthiest road to go down for harry? i dont think so, but considering his characterisation in the cursed child, i think it works. ron ended up quitting to be a father, neville ended up quitting to focus on his real passion (herbology), and harry continued to cling onto The Hero image he’s used to presenting. yes, the ministry was impossibly corrupt and worked against him in his youth, but to harry that could’ve served as more of a reason to change the institution from the inside. this, i imagine, was most definitely the case with hermione, who was always an idealist.

that being said, i don’t think continuing being an auror is such a great idea post-hpcc. he at least needs a break in order to continue his job in a healthy manner and not misconstrue his identity with it.

in terms of ginny, i don’t believe she’d still be playing quidditch in her 40s. if you think about real athletes, very few of them continue playing professionally in their 40s (i think the average age is 34 but i may be wrong), especially after birthing three kids. we dont know much about her retirement, but there are many reasons one can assume ginny retired for, kids and/or age being the most reasonable deduction. its not so much a question of characterisation but more about the reality of having to give up your passion earlier than most if its sports.

despite retiring, its clear ginny is still very passionate about quidditch as shes still working within the field, just not playing the sport professionally anymore.

[vulpixisananimal]

(Self harm and dagger(ish) below the cut)

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

(You and Isabeau were standing outside the Defenders house, it was just you two. The others where to look around Jouvente for information on mind craft and how to undo it.)

"It's probably not." (You reply.) "But it's less suspicious if it's just you and me."

"I guess so. . ."

"Chin up, Isabeau." (You turn to him, smiling.) "I got your back, break a leg!"

(He nods, more confident.) "Right! Break a leg!"

(You two walk in, you've been here before. On cue, Ramos shows up.) "Isabeau?!?"

("Just pretend you know them, that's your script.")

". . Ramos?" (Isabeau tilts his head.) "Is that you?"

(Ramos pauses for a second, before giving a big smile back and walking over) "Isa! it's been, what, almost a year??"

("You're best friends, you helped eachother out, just play along, you got this Isabeau~")

"Yeah!! Sorry I was just surprised to uh, see you!"

(Ramos goes to put a hand on Isabeaus shoulder, as you practiced, Isabeau visibly flinches, giving Ramos a pause.)

". . . You alright, Isa?" (They ask.)

"Y-yeah just," (He rubs his shoulder.) "Uh, I'll, tell you later! Oh! Right! This is Siffrin! A really good friend of mine!"

(Isabeau gestured to you, and you gave a a half bow.) "Charmed~"

(Honestly? Isa isn't as bad an actor as you first thought. Maybe it was that nervousness? Either way, it looked like it was working. Ramos gave that half bow back.)

"Good to meet you Siffrin! Let me guess, helped save the country?"

"Of course, your trusty rougish traveler Siffrin." (You wink.)

(Ramos squints.) ". . . Are you two-"

"A-anyway!!" (Isa cuts them off.) "I-I wanted to come visit while we're in town! See how my old friend is doing!"

"Oh! Oh thank you!" (Ramos is absolutly beaming.) "Hey!! Let me show you my new room here! It's awesome!"

(Okay, things were going well so far. Ramos didn't touch Isa, and it didn't look like they were going to try. Perfect. You had predicted that if Isa sticks to the script, Ramos wouldn't try and use mind craft. I mean, Isa already knew Ramos' name, and was acting like they were good friends.)

(You keep walking, Isa and Ramos chatting as you did. You were really proud of him, honestly. He was sticking to topics that might get you good information while avoiding suspicion. You learned that Ramos was genuinly getting better with defender stuff, and they were more confident. They had started experimenting with their scissors craft more, which you didn't even know about! Ramos was scissors\rock type. Ramos didn't have family in town.)

(Stars, maybe you should have payed more attention the first time you were here.)

(Finally, after many halls and a few staircases, Ramos came to a room and let you both inside. The room was a decent size, about the size of the Head Housemaidens office. There was a desk, a bookshelf, a wardrobe, a window outside, a bed, and a mat in the center of the room. It looks like it was for training.)

"Sorry! I don't have extra chairs." (Says Ramos, offering the desk chair to you two.)

"I'll be fine on the bed!" (Isa says cheerily.)

"I'll stand." (You say.)

"Suit yourself!" (Ramos collapses onto the chair and sighs.) "It's, it's really great to see you, Isa."

"Yeah. . ." (Isa replies.)

(You tilt your head, your turn.) "Is Jouvente a rough place? Looks like you got hurt."

"Huh? Oh!" (Ramos lifts up their shoulder to look at the bandage.) "Well, no, it's real safe here, not had any issues in forever, but. . ."

"But. . ?"

"W-well, I, honestly have no idea, haha." (They laugh nervously,) "I got sliced pretty bad I guess, looks kinda like a sword? Deffinatly a pierce craft thing though, at least that's what I was told."

(Huh, Mirabelle's rapier would have done that. Hmm, then there's a way Ramos could blame HER for the near kidnapping. But still. . .) "You don't remember at all?"

"Nope!" (Ramos shakes their head.) "There was a lot of yesterday that's just a blur."

(Huh!)

(Do you believe them?)

(I'm starting to.)

"I can relate." (You say.)

(Ask about wishes.)

"Say, Ramos, have you heard of Wish Craft?"

"Huh?" (They tilt their head.) "Wish Craft?"

(You nod, Ramos starts thinking, and eventually replied,) "Wish Craft, Wish Craft. . . Oh maybe!"

(OH?)

(Interesting.)

"Yeah I think I heard about it from someone I met! Make a wish and-"

(You see them visibly wince, then shake their head before continuing.) "And. . . And. . ."

(You and Isa glance at each other. Clearly, something just happened. Isa speaks up.) "Make a wish and, what?"

(Ramos blinks, then smiles.) "Sorry, what where we just talking about?"

(What.)

(Isabeau stood up.) "Are you, alright? Rams?"

"Yeah just, just a bit dizzy." (They stand up too, using their desk to support themself.) "I just, need some air-"

(They trip getting up, and before you could stop him, Isabeau rushed forward to catch them before they hit the ground, and caught their hand.)

(There was a moment before Isa realized what he just did. He gasped, let Ramos down and backed away.) "Oh, o-ohcCrab Sif, Sif I'm s-"

"It's alright!" (You walk over to Isa and put a hand on his shoulder.) "Dizzy?"

"What are you two-" (Ramos says, getting up off the floor.)

(Isa nods, you could see him squinting, he put a hand to his head. Stars, mind craft in action. You pat his shoulder.) "You'll be alright, the plan, remember?"

"R-right." (Isabeau, still holding his head, rushed to the door and left. That was the plan B, after all. If Ramos touches you, run to the others.)

(Speaking of, Ramos was looking at you in bewilderment.) ". . . What the change!?!"

"You wished to be just as strong as Isabeau" (You grip your dagger.) "You were given a gift of Mind Craft so that everyone would believe you were as strong as him. You wanted to be everyones favorite, the best. "

(They're shocked, as to be expected.) "How do you know that!"

(You smile at them.) "You told me."

(Ramos is looking at you, backing up to their dresser.) "I-"

"Truth time, Ramos~" (You say, drawing your dagger and twirling it around.) "I'll start, I can repeat today as many times as I want~ We've actually met four times already."

"But that's. . ." (They were looking at you, and around the room, before sighing.) "No, that's perfectly possible, the King froze time after all."

"Tee hee~ the King was an amature. Your turn, do have a question for me?"

(Ramos scoffed.) "If you can repeat today as many times as you want, why should I tell the truth? I wont remember anything if time gets undone, right?"

(You keep smiling.) "Because the alternative is me coming back here every time, and each time finding out a new way to hurt you~"

(Ramos is staring at you.)

"You're trying to figure out if I'd do it, of course I would. To me, everyone here is an actor, including myself~"

(You twirl your dagger, then hold it right below your eyepatch.) "Time will just get turned back after all~"

". . . You're insane."

"Quite~" (Stars, Siffrin, please forgive me. You press the blade against your skin. It stings, you can feel the blood-)

"S-stop stop!!" (Ramos waves their hands.) "I get it! Alright! Fine! I just, fine!"

"Good~" (You put the knife down, ow ow ow. . .)

(And you call me a hypocrite.)

(. . . You keep talking.) "Now, truth time, did you try and kidnap a kid named Bonnie yesterday?"

"What?!?!" (Ramos seemes offended at the idea, scowling at you.) Of course not!!"

(Same reaction. Maybe it's not them, or they don't remember.)

"Good! Now, how about-"

"Hey! My turn!" (Ramos interupts.)

"Fine, fine, ask away."

(Ramos was glaring at you, they grunted.) "Did. . . Did Isabeau really remember me? Or was all that a carbbin' act."

(Hmmm.) "A bit of yes, a bit of no. He didn't bring you up on our grand adventure, but when I woke up this morning and told him all about you, well, he seemed so genuinly worried~"

(They look away, no response.)

"My turn~ Where did you get this Mind Craft, Rammy?"

"Don't call me that." (They're staring daggers at you.) "Ever."

(Your taken aback by that.) "Oh, sorry." (What kind of nerve did you hit?)

". . ." (They huff.) "I asked for it, and I got it, that's it."

"That's it? Aren't we having truth time Ramos~?"

"Shut the crab up!" (They bite back.) "What do you care anyway! Change, you could probably just kill me and get on with your life!"

(. . .)

"Yeah, you could, you could blame it on whoever you want I bet. So why don't you! It'd be easy! Just easy to get rid of me and move on!!"

(They rip open the door of their clausit and grab a weapon, a pair of tonfas. Looking back at you, there was murder in their eyes.)

(What in the stars did you SAY.)

"If you CAN go back in time, do it." (They were about to pounce.) "'Cause otherwise I'll make you forget your whole crabbing life."

(. . . . . . .)

(You open your mouth, you tell them to never touch your memory. Ever.)

(You rush forward with blinding speed, swiping at Ramos' neck with your dagger. They block. You recoil.)

(What are you doing?!?!!)

(You ignore Loop. Ramos counters, a one, two, three hit combo to try and get you off balance. You dodge each of them, and swipe back, catching Ramos' arm. Good.)

(GOOD?!? Are you even thinking right now! They could turn into a sadness again and we'd be stuck at square one!!!)

(So what.)

(They hold out a fist and strike a pose, as if on cue you can feel your feet get sluggish. Stars. They're smart. You're smart, too. You hold a palm, [PAPER])

(SO WHAT?!? We almost lost to that sadness! )

(You almost lost to that sadness. Besides. You wont let Ramos live long enough for that.)

(WHAT?!?)

(Ramos gets blasted into their desk, but got up quickly, wiping some blood off of their mouth and diving at you. You sidestep and-)

(NO!!!)

(They dive at you, this time you deflect the blow, leaving Ramos open. Hmm, did you loop on instinct? You saw at the last second that Ramos was about to hit you with their back foot? Strange. You swipe at them with your dagger. You connect.)

"Hrrk-" (They stumble back, gripping a wound in their chest.)

(You can't kill them! We can't kill them!)

(It's that or get our memory erased.)

(We can't-)

(Ramos glares at you, grabs something on their desk and throws it at you. You swipe it out of the air, Ramos took the chance and rushed at you and-)

(You dodge the thrown item and dance out of Ramos way, swiping at them again.)

(. . . . . . .Where is everyone?)

(Who, is everyone?)

(Your opponent is panting, and looks at you with anger in their eyes. They look so different. So wild. Who are you? Who am I. No time to think, just get ready to move again. Ramos, they gripped their wound and gritted their teeth, some healing craft rushing to the gash.)

(You ready your dagger, you breathe in, and out. Time is your plaything, you will try and try again untill you win. The question is, what role will you take?)

(You dash forwards, moving like water, like sand. You swipe at what seems to be their dominant arm.)

(Another block, and another counter attack. You try and parry this one-)

(Wont work, try again.)

(You feel the weight of time upon you back, but no, you will defy it.)

(You try and dodge this time. You rush to the side, Ramos strike going over your head as you-)

(No, try again. once more, action. You rush in. Not expecting it, Ramos overshoots you. You grip your dagger, now behind them.)

(You've won. In this moment, no matter what, you can repeat your script to this victory.)

(. . . You strike them on the back of the head with the hilt of your dagger. Today, mercy.)

(Ramos collapses to the floor. Your adversary, perhaps. The antagonist? For now, that's what they are all for now. You kneel down.)

(. . . . . . . . .)

(They're not dead.)

(You hold your head as a wave of mental exhaust rushes through you. Ok. You were back. Loop time. You terrible, terrible think! Stop taking over just at any time! You barely could remember the battle! What did you DO!?!)

(. . . Not here then? Fine! You get up, you needed to search the room, quickly.)

(Nothing around the bed, the dresser is full of clothes, of many different styles- wait you recognize that stitching. A vest that Isabeau must have made. Ok, ok what else. Drawers! You look through the drawers, nothing, random magazines, and- oh you wont check that one again. Nothing.)

(The desk. Check the desk. You look through the different cabbinets in the desk, anything- maybe something taped to the underside? No. Stars, wait. . .)

(Stuffed at the very back of the bottom drawer of the desk was a photo.)

(The back was signed. "Good luck, Azzy, and write home often.")

(You heared footsteps outside. No time- wait, one last thing. You go over to Ramos, and gently undo their bandana, taking care to not touch the skin. Sure, you had gloves, but just in case. . .)

(There it is. Damn star pendant. It glowed softly. Taking a snuff, it smelled of. . . Mint? Maybe, was it mint? No, wasn't there supposed to be a sugary smell? It was a wish after all, right?)

(. . . You have more questions for next time, but someone was banging on Ramos door.)

(You look out the window- Oh of course. You were what, three? Four stories up? If you jumped out from here, you'd likely die.)

(. . . Like that wasn't an issue, tee hee~ And if you don't die, you could check with the others.)

(. . . No time to dwell on it, you back up a few steps, take a breath, and take a running leap.)

(. . .It's like your flying!)

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 118

Part 1 Part 117

Winter break passes better than summer had for Will. Mom’s loosened his leash enough that he can go to the arcade unsupervised, or hang out at Dustin’s house, or sequester himself in Mike’s stuffy basement and run a campaign like the good old days.

El closed the gate, and everyone’s convinced the Upside-Down is gone. Only Steve, Eddie, and Will can feel their connection stretch the miles between their abodes and know the truth: it’s not over.

Things will never be the same again.

Will doesn’t mention it. This little slice of normalcy is far too precious to jeopardize with the truth.

The holiday’s in the Byers house have always been low-key, but it’s been worse since last year. They don’t even put up lights anymore. No one’s told him why, and he hasn’t asked.

Still, when he asks his Mom, she gladly agrees to host their extended family. They’d done it at the Munson’s last year, hemmed into a space far too small for that many bodies.

It’s Eddie who suggests a secret santa exchange. Everyone huddles in Will’s living room, pulling names from one of Wayne’s baseball caps, groaning when Carol draws the last slip and it’s her own name. They crumple the pieces and try again.

Will stares down at El’s name and sneaks furtive looks up at her. She wasn’t around last Chrismtas, still holed up in Chief Hopper’s cabin pretending not to exist. But, her leash has been loosened as well, so here she is, beaming down at her own drawn name and bouncing on her toes with excitement.

Has she ever celebrated a holiday before? Has she ever even gotten a present?

It’s a lot of pressure. He feels it pushing down on him, but then Steve throws his arm around Will’s shoulders and initiates their usual tug, tug, tug ritual, and it all eases off. Like, Steve, even unknowingly, will always take the weight off Will’s shoulders and carry it himself.

He stares down at the piece of paper and starts to plan.

It takes the entire allotted two weeks to finish. He stares down at the finished project. Will she like it? Is he skipping over some boundary he doesn’t even know is there?

It doesn’t matter: he’s out of time, so he rolls the paper up and pushes it carefully into one of Jonathan’s old poster tubes, and rushes into the living room to wrap it.

Everyone gathers, sitting on couches and chairs and the carpet. Dustin crouches in the corner where they’d all piled their presents, squinting at small handwriting and passing around a variety of parcels.

They go in a circle, gift after gift. Will opens his own, beaming down at a trio of hand-painted figures from Lucas.

When Jonathan opens his, he stares down at it, mouth opening and closing, no sounds coming out. Will leans over to peer around the half-unwrapped gift to see what’s robbed him of speech.

It’s a cassette player, still in the original box, and it must be nice based on the way Jonathan’s staring at it like it’s the holy grail.

“I put a tape in it for you to listen to,” Steve says. His cheeks are pink, and he’s twiddling the ring on his pinkie. “You said I owed you one.”

Jonathan reaches out to pry the box open, staring in like he’ll find the answers to the meaning of life rather than a cassette player. “I was kidding,” Jonathan replies, but he’s smiling down at it now as he pulls it out of the box and pops the deck to look at what’s inside.

“You don’t even want to know what Stevie here had to do to get Johnny boy's name from the draw,��� Eddie says, smiling from where he’s sitting on the rug. Steve elbows him in the ribs, but he just keeps talking. “And then he had to do it all over again when Perky Perkins screwed all his hard work and drew her own name.”

Carol gasps, rounding on Steve and kicking out at him ruthlessly close to his crotch. “You told him?” she shrieks.

Will has no idea what they’re on about but he laughs along with everyone else, watching all three of them descend into an all-out wrestling match like the children they’re not.

It doesn’t stop until they get dangerously close to knocking over the TV, and Mom claps to get their attention. They all settle back in to finish opening presents.

Because Will’s life has always been an unlucky one, El goes last. His anxiety ratchets up with every minute that passes, reaching an all-time-high as she finally starts peeling the paper away.

Unlike the rest of them, she picks the tape off the foil, peeling it away, careful not to rip the paper at all. She folds it all nicely, and hands it to Chief Hopper for safe-keeping.

She then stares down at the cardboard tube, brow furrowed until Mike tells her she has to open the other end. El flips the tube on its head, pulls off the top, and pulls out the rolled up paper inside.

With that same characteristic care, she unrolls it, only to gasp at what she finds. Will watches her face, digging his fingernails into his thighs.

“What is it?” Chief Hopper asks, leaning over her shoulder to ger a peek. He looks down at it with an expressionless face before smiling and patting her shoulder.

El nods, not looking away from the page in front of her.

Will has limited supplies, but he’d used all the best colored pencils he owns, and had Jonathan buy him a big piece of paper from Melvald’s.

On one edge of the page stands El. She looks fierce the way she has every time he’s seen her use her powers, hand raised and a huge beam of white light cutting across the darkness.

Within that beam, he’s painted all the people in this room. First, Chief Hopper in his police uniform, standing beside Mom, gun raised and pointed toward the darkness. Then, Mike, Lucas, and Dusin, dressed as their D&D characters holding a variety of weapons. Will, Steve, and Eddie stand farther along the page, back to back to back as they cover each other’s weak bits. Then Jonathan and Nancy, Nancy with a gun, and Jonathan slightly behind her, all ready to face whatever comes out of the darkness. And at the farthest corner, Barb stands with a baseball bat covered in nails, Carol standing slightly behind her, pointing into the darkness like she’s clueing Barb in on a monster’s location.

The whole thing ended up a little messy. Nancy’s hands look wonky, and there’s something wrong with Steve’s nose, but El’s beaming down at it like it’s the Mona Lisa.

“Be careful with it until we can get a frame for it,” Chief Hopper says, hand still clasping onto her shoulder.

She looks up at him, smiling even wider as she asks, “I can put it in my room?”

“Of course, kid.”

El stares down at the page for a few seconds more before rolling it back up with slow movements, making it small enough that it slides perfectly into its roll. She puts it on Chief Hopper’s lap, staring down at it for a second like she can’t bear to look away.

She then barrels across the room, colliding with Will so hard that they both end up on the carpet. “Thank you, Will,” El says, clutching onto him hard.

He pats her back awkwardly, looking around the room for help and finding none. “You’re welcome.”

“It is the best present I have ever gotten.”

That makes Will a little sad, but all he says is, “Merry Christmas.” He waits uncomfortably for her to get off him so he can sit back up.

It’s not long until everyone starts trickling out, Carol and Barbara herding Max and Lucas along with them to drop off, and Nancy snagging Mike and Dustin after sharing a kiss with Jonathan that Eddie makes barfing noises at.

Chief Hopper shepherds El into his truck, and Wayne follows them out, off to work the night shift.

Only Eddie and Steve stay. They all pile into Will’s room. His bed’s not big enough for the three of them, so they curl around each other on the floor, blankets haphazardly piled atop them.

It doesn’t take Will long to fall asleep, comfortable with Steve and Eddie at his back, the comforting sounds of his Mom cleaning up in the other room.

[polifandom]

I saw that @avonne-writes has this ongoing thing about a failed sex hc and it got me inspired so here's what I think a failed clegan sex would look like:

They have just gotten started with the intimacy thing, and Bucky is so excited about it but he's being wayyyy too obvious and Buck cannot have that

Still Bucky somehow convinces him to go at it in this weird small closet none of them knew the existence of because Bucky cannot get his hands off Gale the entire day (and he admittedly gets a bit horny at that)

So fine, Buck lets Bucky drag him to that closet against all his better jugment

Except they're hardly a room over where everyone is (still awake, btw!!!) and really, this is far from the most prudent choice, but now gale is horny too so theyll have to make it work

Bucky is immediately on him once they close the door, opening his shirt, kissing his neck, biting his shoulder and yeah this is good, fuck this is good

And bucky can see he's enjoying it, so he bites down harder, kisses him even more, scratches buck's exposed belly just because he can (and because he can't control it)

Buck is all in now. like yeah, he's fucking horny!!!!!! So he switches them up and immediately goes down to his knees, because he hasn't really sucked bucky off that many times and he really wants to do it now

Bucky works his pants open, his dick kinda slaps gale in the face once its out but he takes it greatly and omg he's far too excited about this

And then gale is on him, mouthing down the entire extension of him, and OH GOD

And he's trying, really, to be discreet about this. he's aware everyone is a room over and he knows gale hates when he makes noise where everyone can hear it.... but then gale goes down far enough that his mouth touches his pubes and john SCREAMS

Gale immediately stops right on his tracks and drags his body back until johns dick is no longer in his mouth, and then he just looks at him like what the fuck?

But gale's mouth is red and open and there's spit connecting it to john's dick, thats hanging right in front of his face btw, and fuck, that image is far too much. plus his mad face? oh god john could DIE

So he comes. no warning, no nothing, just comes all over gale's face and even inside his fucking eyes and oh my god gales gonna kill him, like actually murder him

Gale is stuck for a moment, just trying to blink the fucking cum out of his eyes, but now its fucking stinging and john doesnt even have the decency to look fucking guilty about it and yeah he is gonna murder him

He stands up and just. looks at john. furiously.

But john is still in his post-cum bliss and he really is trying to pretend he feels guilty about this, but fuck theres his cum all over gales face and hes getting half hard again at the fucking image

Gale wants to hit him, like actually fucking punch him in the face.

He uses john's uniform, because he obviously is not gonna use his own, to clean the cum off his face but his eyes are still fucking stinging and he knows theyre red as fuck, even if he cant see them right now

In fact, he can't see much of anything...

John is finally getting down from it, and gale is just staring at him. like he wants to murder him. and fuck, oh shit, his eyes are so red

Gale raises his hand and for a moment john actually thinks hes gonna hit him, but then he just turns and opens the closet and gets out. doest even say anything.

And john is left there, cum all over the cuffs of his uniform, still very much post-bliss, and having no idea what he can even say that would make gale less mad at him. he is so fucked.

[beneathsilverstars]

i feel like. it might be difficult for siffrin to figure out their exact boundaries around touch etc. both bc they're so desperate for physical contact, and bc they're so disgusted by that desire for touch?

like siffrin's like ok do i want isa to do x to me? and he's a little sickened by the thought but is it because he doesn't want it, or bc he doesn't want to want it? and even if it's the latter, there's all sorts of reasons someone might half want something and half not - is the half yes bc they'll take any touch as long as it's touch? or bc they genuinely like the idea of that specific touch? or bc they think it would make isa happy? and the half no, is it bc they think they don't deserve it, or they shouldn't want it? or bc there's an aspect of it that they actually don't like? or bc they think it might not make isa happy?

there are just already so many complicated factors at play when it comes to physical boundaries for anyone, and then you add the trauma and the touch starvation and the asexuality and the lack of memories and the shame and whew!!! sif and isa have their work cut out for them

[pastelwitchling]

The Missteps of Bridgerton Season 3

I love Bridgerton, I love Polin, and I enjoyed the first half of the season fine... but as someone who'd started watching Bridgerton only because of Polin, who'd read the book, and who had been looking forward to this particular season from the very beginning, I have to admit that I was a little disappointed by what we got. Not because it wasn't good, but because it wasn't as amazing as it could've been.

And no, I will not be tagging this as 'anti.' I've gone through the anti tag, and it's some very vile bull from people who genuinely hate the show or hate the characters (or hate other fans), and I love them. I just have some criticism of a few choices made.

So. If you can't handle any critique to the show at all, then please don't read the rest of this. Otherwise, grab some tea and a snack because I have quite a few thoughts.

I don't even know where to start.

I think the most frustrating thing for me in the beginning was how many other plotlines they tried to shove into this season. I don't want to sound mean, but I don't care about Will and Alice's business, I don't care about Benedict's boring relationship with another dArInG wOmAn WhO dEfIeS sOcIeTy'S eXpEcTaTiOnS (more on that later), I don't care about Cressida's redemption.

In fact, let's start with her. This was such a bad fucking idea. Not the redemption itself, though I don't know why some storytellers think there are no unlikable people in the world, why every woman especially has to be redeemed and forgiven. Some are just awful, they exist, it happens. It's okay to have scenes of our characters just reacting to these people and navigating kindness and forgiveness in spite of them. But anyway, working on Cressida's redemption in this kind of story doesn't freaking work. Why? Because we've seen this character put Penelope through endless shit already, and her season is not the season to work on her bully's redemption. Because Penelope already lost her best friend to this girl, and trying to redeem her now isolates Penelope even more, because instead of Eloise getting to properly realize how much she's lost in giving up Penelope as a friend, we're getting her genuinely bonding and getting closer to someone else. Most importantly, redeeming Cressida now doesn't fucking work because you have her and Penelope competing for the affections of the same guy.

You can't pit the girl we want to see win and root for against her bully for the affections of a man, and try to make us sympathetic for the bully. Are we not supposed to want Penelope to get him? Are we not supposed to root for Penelope? I get the idea of complex characters and relationships, but for the love of the gods, Penelope has been crapped on over and over and over in this series. I don't know about anybody else, but I got so excited when I saw her with Lord Debling in the promos because I thought, "Finally! We're going to see Penelope actually be pursued and cherished by someone else!" And instead? We have her embarrassing herself in cringey and awkward conversations against the bully we're also supposed to sympathize with? This was the show's chance to finally give Penelope someone who values her, but oh no, we have to show how tough things are for Cressida, so we have to make her actual competition who actually connects to Debling as well. So which is it, writers? Are we supposed to root for Penelope or Cressida? When Penelope wins, which is already unfair because she's had to bust her butt to get this guy so it's always her in pursuit, how are we supposed to be happy for her when Cressida is in the corner all sad?

Don't get me wrong, when Cressida chose not to gossip about Penelope at the ball, I was really touched. But the problem in trying to redeem her is that it works, which then creates a whole other problem when her and our heroine are then competing for the same guy!

Speaking of that guy; Lord Debling. I'm conflicted on him because I like how much he comes to learn about Penelope (arguably more than Colin does, but we'll get into that later), and I like how genuinely kind he is. But I hated seeing Penelope have to embarrass herself in front of him. I hated that we had to watch this girl who already feels like less than everyone else not even properly get this guy's attention for half the time we know him. Why did the writers think that would be fun to watch? I thought a majority of the time with him would be spent with Colin's jealousy, but even in those brief moments when Colin was jealous, it was from a distance, and we knew that in reality, those conversations Penelope was having with Debling were awkward and kind of degrading to her character.

Which brings me to my biggest pet peeve in this whole thing. The changes made to Penelope herself. Look. I'm not a stickler for accurate adaptations, okay? I don't care if the adaptation matches the source material so long as it's entertaining, which is why I enjoy the Percy Jackson movies more than the actual show. How I see it, we get two different, very fun and likable versions of a beloved story. So I didn't come into this season hoping it would be like the book, I just hoped it would be a good time. However...

Something I did appreciate in the book, and in the past two Bridgerton seasons, was Penelope's wisdom. She was hopeful with Colin, but realistic. She knew she would probably never be with him, but she was determined to be happy anyway. Lady Danbury even calls her something along the lines of the cleverest person in the room, and that's why she takes such a liking to her. Penelope is supposed to be clever, witty, amusing, and wise enough to know that even if she may not get everything she wants, she has her best friend and a guide in Lady Danbury and the small joys of being alongside the Bridgertons, and that was enough for her. Colin saw her for that wisdom and wit, saw the love and joy and pride she had in her work, saw that her priorities were the people she loved and the craft she'd perfected, and fell in love with her for it.

Here? She's the butt of every joke, she's a subject of mockery and dismissals, she's someone to be pitied, not appreciated. Yes, she was a wallflower in the book too, but she had at least a few supporting figures who she admired and helped her be happy where she was. I don't care SO much that they switched the scene of him finding out she's Whistledown, so much as the fact that they changed the meaning behind it. Her and Colin honestly spent so little time together because the show was trying to shoehorn in all these other plots, and so when he suddenly decides he's going to stop her marriage, it feels like he just does it because he's horny! In the book, he's impressed with the strong, talented, and passionate woman she is. In the show, I technically know that he wants to be married to his best friend, but the scenes I was most looking forward to with Colin and Penelope properly talking more and getting to really know each other aren't even there, so based off what friendly interaction had he suddenly learned to see her differently?

Finding out she was Whistledown was a shock to him, and it pushed him over the edge of his feelings for her. Not to mention, him finding out she was Whistledown told him so much about her as a person. Really think about it; what does Colin Bridgerton in the show know about Penelope? Nothing! Lord Debling knows more about her interests and what she enjoys better than Colin does! Knowing about Whistledown also gave him access to a secret part of her that no one else was privy to! Taking that away means that when they get married, Penelope knows everything about Colin and his travels and what he enjoys, and he knows next to NOTHING about her! So we spent the season with her being a joke to everyone, her having to compete for a guy and fail for a good long conversation, and then her ending up in a relationship with a guy who never bothered to get to know her? Fun.

In fact, why don't we talk a little more about Colin, too. Um. What the fuck was he writing? I don't care that it's sexual, but him describing Greek beaches and Scottish pubs in the book and interactions he's had with people shows exactly how grown he really is without him even knowing it. In the book, Colin hated being known for nothing but his charm. He even resented it and turned bitter when Penelope brought it up! He wanted to be more than that, he wanted to have a real purpose and be taken seriously and even be perceived more like Anthony. Writing about the landscapes he'd seen on his travels and his interactions showed that he wasn't just travelling to sleep his way through Europe, but that he was actually learning about new cultures and experiencing new worlds and lands. Here? He's just writing smut! In itself, it would be fine, except that he CLEARLY had a problem not having a purpose in his conversation with Anthony and Benedict and when Penelope praised his writing, so he does want the same thing Book Colin does, except... doesn't just writing erotica completely undermine his whole thing of wanting to be known as more than a charming flirt??

Not to mention, Book Colin ends up publishing his travel journals, so how's this version going to do that? You can tell us he's doing it at the end, but it will ring hollow because we all saw what he's been writing, so if they try to divert at the end to Book Colin's ending, it won't make any sense when we've already heard what he's written. In that time period, how the hell is he going to publish that? AND Book Colin ends up giving his stuff to Penelope to read once they're married because he wants her opinion on it! How the hell is that going to work, giving your wife your erotica with other women to test read? I know it could be done, but the charm of the book version is then gone because it feels like you've reduced a cultured man to a rake who just wants to gloat about how many foreign women he'd gotten to sleep with. Doesn't even that then undermine the whole flirty act he put on in the first episode when even Lady Whistledown could tell he was just pretending to be someone he wasn't??

I'm so tired, so I'm going to end this with a few final notes:

Why does arguably the most charming Bridgerton brother, Benedict, always get the most BORING storyline? I hate the woman he's with, there's absolutely nothing original or charming about her, and I am SICK TO DEATH of these so-called "quirky, strong women who don't care what anybody else says because they're edgy like that," it's just so cliched, and I need that archetype to die already. I thought they were going to do something with the fact that she's clearly a lot older than him, but they don't address it at all, so there goes that interesting concept.

Francesca's fickleness was getting on my last nerve, and I was so bored with her storyline until she met that guy. Their relationship is a cute and unique one, but before he shows up, nothing of what she wants is clear. She doesn't mind meeting a guy, but the second someone actually tries speaking to her, she backs off. She wants to talk about music, but when someone tries to speak to her about music, she backs off. I just couldn't get a reading on what she wanted.

I really don't care at all about Will and Alice's business. It's the same storyline every freaking season.

Eloise's whole "It's not nice when Whistledown writes about you, is it?" is very stupid because Lady Whistledown has written plenty about Penelope's family before that point (and in the book, about Penelope herself). You can't have Colin acknowledging that Whistledown outed Marina in the first episode, and then have Eloise forget that Penelope threw her own family name under the bus to protect Colin.

The carriage scene, I'm sorry, was cringey and came a little bit out of nowhere. And I really didn't like that Colin was backing away until, again, Penelope put herself forward. She's always the pursuer, and I'd hoped for something different this season. I also didn't like that she had to be dumped first. Like, yeah, let's really not give her a single break until Colin deems it time to actually do something for her.

That's all I've got that I can think of, at least in terms of negative criticism. I'm sure more will come to me later, but this was the big stuff. And I don't want to hear anything about, "But Rin, the season's not done yet!" Yeah, but half of it is. No matter what happens in the last four episodes, this was how they started. I guess when the cast said it was their most graphic season so far, they meant the most graphic for everyone but the main couple, and isn't that what you wanted to see?

[flower-boi16]

Why didn't Viv just make a pure romance animation instead of throwing away premise for the favor of terminally online shippers?

Probably because she doesn't really know how to stick to the premise of her shows. Like I genuinely think that Viv initially started with the idea of Helluva Boss being about assasins going to the human world to kill people for clients, but over the course of the show's production she slowely started coming up with more plotlines and ideas and slowely put them into the show regardless how many of them there would end up being, and Stolitz was likely the biggest one.

I've seen some people even say that Stolitz is the point of the show. It is not. Stolitz was not the premise of HB. It just eventually took over HB as the series went on. The show completely lost it's focus and PLOT in favor of becoming a melodramitic romance story featuring a horrendously written reletionship that people for SOME REASON insist on trying to defend.

It's genuinely pretty sad how HB went into this direction. Like the show had such an interesting premise that could've made for so many creative ideas but the writers just threw it away in favor of throwing a gizzalion plotlines at the wall because they coulden't decide which one to focus on.

Stolitz is the worst of these not only because the reletionship is just badly written, but also because it warps the show to be about it. The show has now become a shitty romance story intended to cater only to shippers, completely alienating the demographic the first season and pilot attracted. And I'm sick of people defending this shit with "ohhhh but the show's premise would get repetive!" because there are plenty of ways a show could utilize it's premise without it being repetive. I got an ask mentioning BDFI but there's also Penn Zero Part Time Hero; a prime example of a show that utilizes it's premise to it's full creative potiential and makes it into the main appeal of the show.

And that's the thing; the main premise of the show is the APPEAL of it. It's the thing that draws a viewer into checking it out. A show abandoning that is not good writting. Helluva Boss feels like it doesn't know what it wants to even BE anymore. Is it a episodic dark comedy show? A romantic drama show? Just a straight drama show? We don't fucking know anymore and the show certainly doesn't.

There ARE ways to stray from the premise a bit without alienating past viewers, Amphibia's third season moved to earth for the first half but that was because it was a natural way to progress the series. Helluva Boss jams three premises for three different shows into one and what we now have is a completely confused mess of a story that lost it's identity.

And THAT'S why abonding the premise killed HB. It lost any real focus of what it wanted to be and is the sole thing behind most of the show's major issues. It jams too many plotlines into just 1-2 seasons resulting in everything being a completely unfocused mess.

[buckybuckyboo]

Let us take care of you

Word count: 3,400

Summary: Your boyfriend is an asshole so the boys show you how you should be treated.

A/N: MINORS DNI. 18+

"Jesus, can't you just stay in with me for once! You're always hanging out with your boys. Please, Jake, let's watch a movie and cuddle"

Giving your boyfriend your best puppy dog eyes hoping it will work.

""Sorry baby, I've got plans. I'll see you later"

He turns and leaves, not even a kiss on the cheek. Your eyes start to sting with the tears building up.

"Doll?

You hear a voice from behind you. Take a deep breath and try to calm yourself. Turning around and seeing Bucky and Steve standing there.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks. Clearing your throat you half smile at him "I'm okay, just another night in by myself"

"You should dump his ass! He has no idea what he's just lost!"

"It's fine Bucky, he just wanted to go out with his boys again"

Steve crosses the living room hugging you. Bucky walks up behind him "Doll, you deserve better than that asshole". Steve moved back, letting Bucky move in to hug you tight. He pulls back holding your head in his hand. "Why don't you let us show you" he smirks.

"What?"

"Let us show you how you should be treated. Forget that idiot! He doesn't know how to treat you"

You stare at him and start to laugh. "Good one Buck! Thanks for the laugh"

"I'm not joking baby girl, I'm 100% serious"

Looking over at Steve who had a smirk on his face. "Are you crazy? I can't do that!" walking away and sitting on the couch.

Steve walks over to the couch and sits beside you, placing his hand on your thigh.

"Baby just dump that jackass and be ours? I promise we will take good care of you!.

Bucky sat at the other side of you as Steve talked. He brushes your hair behind your ear and smiles. You look between the both of them "Okay, now would be a great time to tell me you are joking"

"We're not joking," Steve says. "Jake doesn't deserve you. He left you all alone" Bucky whispers against your neck sending shivers down your spine and leaving goosebumps along your skin." He- He is just out with his friends" you stutter out. Steve's hand starts to move up your inner thigh as Bucky nudges against your neck.

You almost give in to them, then you snap out of it and push them away getting up from the couch. "I- I can't do this. I'm not cheering on Jake"

"Y/N, he's no good for you. He treats you like crap! We have seen it for weeks" Steve says "Just dump his ass Y/N" Bucku adds.

"That's my decision," you say and walk into your room closing the door. Sitting on your bed for hours thinking late into the night until you hear knocking at the front door. When you go out, Bucky is already at the door opening it and it's Jake.

"Hey man, I've told her many times to give me a key but what can you do right? Women, am I right?"

"I thought you were with your boys tonight"

Jake turns looking at you "So we went out for a few drinks"

"Ad you don't think I'd like to go out too?"

"Come on baby, don't do this to me now you are running my buzz and I'm tired"

"I think you should stay somewhere else"

Jake laughs "Why would I go anywhere else when I can always come back here?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're easy"

"What!?" That made your blood boil. He tried to grab you by the arm but you backed away.

"Oh come on Y/N don't do-" He was interrupted by a punch to the face. What surprised you more was that it was you who threw the punch making Jakehit the floor.

"Ow!Fuck!" Shouting as you shake your hand.

"Y/N what the fuck as that for?" he holds his nose as he curls up into a ball on the floor.

"That, Jake is me breaking your nose and also breaking up with you"

Catching a glimpse of Bucky who is trying his best to not laugh.

"Get this trash out of here Bucky?"

"I'd be happy to doll"

Bucky grabs him by his shirt, lifting him off the floor effortlessly and then throwing him out the door and closing it behind him.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Ow!"

"Here let me get you some ice for that hand doll"

He walks over grabs a clean towel, puts some ice cubes in it, and gently places it against your hand

It makes you hiss for a second but it feels better after a while.

"Impressivepunch Y/N"

"Thanks"

"I know right now this is a very stupid question but, are you okay?" that makes you chuckle softly.

"Besides my hand hurting, I'm fine Bucky. Thank you"

"You're welcome. I'm here if you need anything okay?"

"Okay" smiling up at him. He sat up with you a little while longer, holding the ice pack against your hand and then you both went back to bed. You were tossing and turning all night. The next morning Bucky filled Steve in on what happened and then they both checked in on you. They decided to leave you alone when you were finally in a deep sleep. Steve walked over leaving some water and some painkillers for your hand. Before he left, he leaned over you kissing the top of your head and whispering how proud he was of you, and left the room.

The next couple of days were busy. Bearly seeing Bucky or Steve because you had to work. You seen Jake though, he came to the coffee shop where you worked. Two black eyes and something over his nose to keep it in place probably. His friends giving him a hard time for running into a signpost drunk. That made you laugh and shake your head. When they saw you they crowded around the front of the cashier.

"Aw Y/N won't you come take care of poor Jaky boy? We know you're on a break but he needs someone to hold his hand"

They all laugh and pat each other on the back.

"On a break? I dumped him and broke his damn nose. Not a signpost, me. I think I have done more than enough"

"You broke his nose?" they all burst out laughing.

Then you held up your bruised hand.

"Yeah, it was me! I broke his nose and threw him out like the trash he is"

The laughing died down pretty quickly. Your manager came over and told them all to leave.

"Are you okay Y/N?"

"Yeah Sam, I'm good just need a second"

He smiles."Take your break champ you deserve it after that and remind me never to piss you off" He walks away laughing.

When you got home after work the place was empty. Sitting at the table, remembering the offer Bucky and Steve had offered you. Both? That can't be right. Why would both of them want me? They both arrive home about an hour later and are happy to finally be able to see you.

"Hey doll face! How was work?"

"It was okay, Jake and his friends showed up"

"Did you punch him again?" Steve laughs as he sits across from you.

"No, I didn't but I wanted to. He told his boys he ran into a signpost while drunk"

"Wow, what a pussy" Bucky adds.

"I set them straight and then Sam asked them to leave"

"Are you okay?" Steve asks with a worried expression.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Been doing some thinking"

Bucky sits beside Steve. "What have you been thinking about?"

"What you said that night" Bucky and Steve look at each other and then back to you.

"Have you made a decision sweetheart?" Bucky asks as he takes a drink of his coffee.

Taking a deep breath "Not yet. I have questions"

"Okay, well we are here now do you want to ask them?

"If that's okay with both of you?"

"Fine with me doll, Steve?"

"Ask away sweetheart". Both of them sit up in their chairs waiting for your questions.

"I'm a little unclear on what you meant by being yours?"

"You can be both mine and Steves's girl"

"We both want to date you"

"But you and Steve are together?"

"Yeah? Is that a problem?" Bucky asks.

"No no, it's just a little strange no? What will people say?"

"Who cares what they say or think? The only thing that matters is what you want"

"I'm sorry I'm just confused"

Bucky get's up and sits on the chair beside you.

"What we want is to make you happy. You will be dating me and also dating Steve. We will always be around to have a movie night with you and lots of cuddles" he smiles "You are ours, and we are yours"

Steve comes over kneeling beside you "How do you feel about going out on a date with us tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Too soon?"

"No no, sorry I'd love to go out with both of you tonight. What time?"

Bucky and Steve smile "Does 8 sound okay"

"Yeah that's okay"

"Okay! It's a date!"

"Okay! I'm gonna get cleaned up. What should I wear?"

"What about that pretty little black dress that's been in the back of your closet?" Steve smiles making you blush.

"Okay, little black dress it is"

You hadn't been taken on a date for months so you were pulling out all the stops. Showering and using your favorite shower gel that you knew the boys loved cause they always mentioned how good it smelled. Pretty black lingerie with red bows to go with the dress and black heels to match. The boys waited for you in the living room, both of them speechless as you walked in.

"Wow Y/N, wow"

"You look beautiful sweetheart!"

"Thankyou" you blush "You both look very handsome"

Steve laughs "Well we are trying to make an impression. Ready to go?"

"Yep! Where are we going?"

"Dinner and dancing," Bucky says while holding the door open while Steve grabs your jacket for you. It felt a little awkward the elevator as you didn't know what to say or where to look.

They escorted you out of the building and into the car that was waiting. Bucky sat up front and Steve sat in the back with you. When the car arrived at the restaurant, Bucky got out first, and opened the door for you, holding your hand as you stepped up onto the footpath. Both of them took your arms beside you as all three of you walked in. The meal was fantastic! They let you order whatever you wanted and demanded that you order dessert. You caught both of them a couple of times looking at you and it made your stomach flip. After the dinner was finished, Bucky grabbed your jacket and put it on for you.

"The club is just down the street. Do you mind walking doll?"

"Not at all Bucky"

He smiles taking you by the hand while you both wait for Steve. When you are both joined by Steve all three of you start walking to the club down the street. Bucky still holding your hand and Steves's hand is on your lower back. Once you got outside the club you were all let in straight away. Bucky immediately pulls you onto the dance floor. You smile wrapping your hands around his neck and dancing with him. Feeling something press against your back, looking back, and seeing Steve. Both of them have you sandwiched in and you are 100% okay with that. You were having so much fun till it was all ruined by Jake.

"Wowhowcould you act like such a slut"

"Fuck you Jake I should have never wasted my time on you!"

He decides to step closer to you but Bucky steps in front of him.

"What's wrong Jake? Afraid she will break your nose again?"

"Jakejust get out ofhere.I don't want you anymore. How many times do I have to tell you that I dumped your ass"

"Take the hint and fuck off!"

You were surprised by Steve and it made you smile. Jake walked away back into whatever dark corner of the club he came from.

"Are you okay Y/N?"

"Yeah I'm okay" You smiled kissing Steves's lips and then Bucky's.

"I've got both of you"

They both smile wide "Let's get you home hm?" Bucky suggests and you and Steve agreed. They escort you out of the club and wait for the car. The cold air feels nice on your skin.

All of you got into the car and headed back home. You weren't drunk but you did have a few drinks, you were feeling good. The three of you walked into the elevator and Steve pressed the button for your floor. Bucky and Steve stood on either side of you. You leaned over laying your head on Steve's shoulder, then leaned up kissing his neck. He tangled his fingers in your hair pulling you up to kiss his lips. You felt something press against your back and turned to see Bucky. Turning around still in between them to face Bucky who you kiss too. Steve's lips all over your neck and shoulders "God you smell so fucking, good baby"

When Bucky hears the elevator doors open he pulls you away from Steve and walks with you to the apartment door.

He opens the door and you all walk in. You throw your bag on the couch and sit to take your shoes off. Steve kneels in front of you and helps.

"Do your feet hurt baby?"

"No they are okay, thank you, both of you. I really had fun tonight"

"You're welcome doll. I'm glad you had a good time" Steve was rubbing his hands along your smooth legs.

"Well then, I guess I better go to bed" you smile. Getting up from the couch and walk towards your room. You stopped and turned looking at both of them "Are you coming?"

They both look at each other and then back at you.

"Who do you want baby?" Bucky asks making you smile.

"Both of you"

The boys follow you into your room. Steve closed the door behind him while Bucky made his way over to the bed and sat down. Turning your back to him and asking him to unzip your dress. He pulls the zipper down kissing the skin that becomes exposed, sending shivers down your spine. You take the straps down off your shoulders and let your dress fall and pool at your feet. Turning around to Bucky and standing between his legs "You look amazing baby girl. You wear this for us?" You nod biting your bottom lip. Turning around and walking over to Steve. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. "What do you think Stevie? Do you like what I wore for you and Bucky?"

Steve nods "You look, beautiful baby, you always look beautiful"

You smile "I wanna watch both of you together"

Bucky gets up from the bed and makes his way over to Steve kissing him passionately while undoing his belt and jeans, reaching into his boxers and pulling hiscock out and stroking it slowly. Steve rests his head back against the door as he pants. Bucky kneels taking Steve's cock into his mouth. You can't get over the sight of Bucky on his knees for him and the moans leaving Steve's mouth. It's turning you on so much. Bucky reaches over ripping your panties down and running his fingers through yoursoking folds. "She's smoking Steve"

Bucky moves over to you, hooking your leg over his shoulder and licking through your folds. The taste of you making him moan sends shivers up your spine. Steve moves over kissing you while Bucky does his work.

Running your fingers through his hair as he takes your clit into his mouth and sucks. Steve takes your bra off and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Your moans echo around the room. Bucky looks up at you with the biggest smirk on his face.

"What?"

"We've never heard you moan like that baby"

"Well, it feels really good!"

"Good! I'm glad doll. Lay on the bed for us?"

You smile, walking over to the bed, and lie down. You watch as they undress and make their way over to you. Both of them on either side of you. Both of their cocks leaking with pre cum. We gotta get you ready for our cocks okay baby girl?"

"Okay, how are you going to do that?"

"We are gonna make you cum a couple of times " Steve smirks.

"How are you going to do that without your cocks? They both chuckle softly

"Our fingers and our mouths baby"

They both keep their work making you cum on their fingers and tongues. You have never come like that, not even on your own. Steve sits with his back against the headboard. You are facing him sucking his cock while Bucky positions himself behind you and lining himself up at your entrance. The stretch from his cock was like nothing you had ever felt before. Pleasure mixed with pain and it made you moan on Steve's coc. Bucky gave you a few minutes to adjust before he started moving in and out. You could feel him fill you up so much every time he pushed back in.

"So fucking tight baby doll fuck I'm not going to last at this rate"

Steve looked up at him through hooded eyes "How does she feel Buck?"

"So fucking good Steve, she's tight. Squeezing me so much! Damn it's so good"

Bucky's pace becomes faster making you lay on Steve's stomach while you moan. Bucky pulls you back against his chest burying his cock deeper inside you. He held you up by placing his hand across your chest. Bucky whispers in your ear saying how much of a good girl you are for both of them while you watch Steve stroke his cock.

Bucky brings his hand up around your throat as he fucks you. Steve moves closer to you, reaching down and playing with your clit.

"Come on sweetheart, cum all over Bucky's cock like a good girl"

Steve tried to swallow your moans but it felt so good you couldn't help but moan louder. Your pussy clamping down around Bucky's cock making him cum just seconds after you. He buried his head in your neck while he moaned. Your head fell against Steve's chest as you panted. He held you tight while you caught your breath looking up at him through hooded eyes, you smiled and kissed him softly.

"Lay back down Stevie"

He smiles and does so while looking up at you. Taking his cock back into your mouth. His head falls back, his hand tangled in your hair. Bucky sits beside Steve, he smiles watching him moan. He leans over kissing Steve's shoulder, his neck, and then up to his lips. Feeling Steve's cock twitch against your tongue, you use your hand to stroke what you can't fit in your mouth.

"Oh fuck!" he moans holding your hair tighter. Bucky moves down close to you, kissing along steves hip "Let's make him cum together baby girl" he smirks. He pulls you up kissing your lips. he positions himself on one side of his cock and you on the other and you both take turns sucking on his cock. It sends Steve right over the edge shooting ropes of cum into your and Bucky's mouths and all over his stomach. Even after he is finished cumming both of you still suck on his sensitive cock making him moan even more until he tells you both to stop. You and Bucky share a passionate kiss before he pulls you in between him and Steve. Steve wraps his arms around you while kissing along your shoulder while you look into Bucky's eyes.

"Are you okay baby?" Steve whispers. You smile and turn your head to him "More than okay, Stevie. I can't believe I almost said no to this"

Bucky laughs while kissing along your neck "Oh baby girl, it's just getting started"

[cyanbugremix]

Sleepover - Stories of the Shaw Pack

Characters: David/Angel, Asher/Babe, Milo/Sweetheart, Darlin'(Tank)/Sam

CW: None; Fluff

Written in July 2023

Summary: The end of an evening get-together with the 4 pack members (David, Milo, Asher, and Darlin) and their mates. The house feels quiet, safe and like home.

Can be found ✨here on Ao3✨, written by moi (cyan_bug37 on Ao3)

~~~~

The quiet atmosphere was something David hadn’t had in awhile. Not that nights weren’t quiet and peaceful. Many of them technically were. But this time he had the people he loved, safe in his home, relaxing with their loved ones and a random movie playing in the background. He looked outside at the sky. A faint tinge of blue still colored the lower half. It wasn’t quite midnight yet, but it was getting there. Earlier, Sam and Tank had gone outside for a walk, or alone time, truthfully. They hadn’t walked very far. He could hear them laughing on the porch.

David looked over to his right at the sleeping couple. Asher lightly snored, and his mate slept on his chest. The couple looked very comfy, though they would probably be stiff in the morning.

Sweetheart and Angel were quietly muttering at the kitchen table. They were at one point painting each other's nails, but that activity eventually turned into them talking. Angel looked over their shoulder as they felt eyes on them. David was staring at them.

“One sec,” Angel said to Sweetheart. They walked over and leaned on the back of the couch.

“Yeah, sweetie? Is something wrong?” Angel quietly asked and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“No. Just watching everyone. . . Asher and Babe fell asleep.”

Angel turned their attention to the duo and smiled. “I’ll go get them a blanket.” They went over to the hall closet and carried out one. They slowly draped it over the two. Babe shifted slightly, but seemed to go back to sleep.

“They are so cute,” Angel muttered once they returned to David. Angel knew Babe had been working overtime to get a project done, a project that could hopefully earn a promotion, and was exhausted. Babe had bags under their eyes for days, and Asher had mentioned how they had a hard time falling asleep. He’d be asleep for about thirty minutes, then he’d wake up and notice Babe working on stuff or just sitting out in the living room.

Angel also had known that Asher was struggling, well in general. Asher started picking up more work, according to the alpha, and Babe said that he had Inversion nightmares almost every night. David had mentioned how Asher began to take naps at the office, which was strange coming from Asher who was usually quite energetic. David had been getting concerned that his beta was burning himself out, and was planning on having a talk with Asher soon. But for tonight, the couple were finally getting some rest.

Milo seemed to have nodded off at some point during the third movie they were watching. Sweetheart walked over to the couches and took their phone out. The glow from the TV gave enough light so they could take a picture of their sleeping mate. Sweetheart chuckled to themselves, “New lockscreen.”

“Do you wanna go take him to the guest room?” David asked. He would have offered their other guest room to Asher and Babe, but they had already fallen asleep, and he didn’t want to wake either of them.

“Probably a good idea. He already says I knock off a few years of his life when I jump scare him. I can’t have him complaining about being an old man just yet,” Sweetheart replied. They gently shook Milo’s shoulder. Milo blinked, though it looked like he could fall asleep again at any moment.

“Mmh? Sweetheart?”

“C’mon. We’re going to bed,” Sweetheart grabbed his hands and carefully dragged him up. Milo managed to say goodnight, and they went down the hallway, disappearing into the guest room.

David sighed and stretched.

“You can go to bed if you want,” Angel rubbed David’s lower back.

He closed his eyes for a moment at the gentle caress. He was tired, but not that tired. “And know that you will probably stay up until 4 in the morning completing some random project? I don’t think that’s the best idea, Angel,” David replied and wrapped an arm around them.

“Well, I gotta do the dishes,” Angel murmured.

“Then I will do them with you,” David leaned over to kiss the top of Angel’s head. Angel hummed in agreement. The two decided that Angel would wash the dishes and David would dry them. They quietly talked between each other about each other’s days, what they wanted to plant in the garden this year, and why a hippopotamus would win against a bear.

“I’m glad we could all get together like this,” Angel said at one point.

David gave a subtle smile, “Me too. I’m glad that everyone seems to feel comfortable here.”

The sliding door opened to reveal Sam and Tank coming back in. They looked around and noticed the new positions everyone was in.

Tank wandered over to the kitchen with Sam trailing behind. “Hey. I noticed the two sleeping beauties on the couch. Where’d the other two go?”

“I sent them to the guest room. Milo fell asleep,” David briefed.

“How was it outside?” Angel asked either one of them, still focused on a pan from breakfast.

“It’s very nice. Not too chilly but not too warm. You got lots of crickets here, David,” Tank said. They leaned back against the counter.

“I know. I can hear them almost every night,” David agreed. He wiped around the edges of a bowl and sat it down. They hadn’t accumulated a lot of dishes because of Asher’s idea to order pizza for dinner, and for that, David was thankful.

Angel handed him the last dish and turned around to wipe their hands on a towel.

“Would you and Sam like to stay the night? We have another room available and I have an excess of pillows and blankets for guests,” Angel offered, tucking the towel back onto the stove’s handle. Originally Sam and Tank hadn’t planned on staying, but the offer was still there.

“What do you think, Darlin’?” Sam looked over. Tank looked at their partner and Angel could see the debate going on in their head.

“If you want to, then it would be fine,” Tank finally said.

Sam gave a small smile, “Then we accept and appreciate the hospitality.”

Angel smiled back and went to grab a couple blankets and a stack of pillows. Once the two were settled, and the TV turned off, Angel and David left to head upstairs to their room. Before Angel shut the door they heard Tank say, “You talk like such an old man sometimes.”

“It was called being polite, Darlin’,” Sam replied as the two walked down the hall. They definitely would be staying up for longer, but at least they were comfortable.

Angel grinned to themselves and closed the door. David had already changed into a pair of sweats and flopped himself on the bed. The window was opened a bit, so the room wasn’t too stuffy. Angel went into their ensuite bathroom to get ready for bed. After they finished, Angel slipped under their sheets and settled down. Their body sank as they relaxed into the mattress. David shifted and laid one arm over Angel, and shifted closer. They breathed in the scent of David’s shampoo and the night air, and drifted to sleep.

~~~~

And my usual disclaimer: As always, I have no ownership or rights to these characters, stories, or franchises. I write this to appreciate the content Redacted ASMR/audio makes. Anything I write is not official in their stories, other than using moments from the original story line. I make no profit from this.

~~~~

Got brave enough to start posting some of my favorite short stories that I've written over on Ao3 onto here, and this is one of the first ones. I hope you like it :)

[wallflowerwritesstuff]

Snap necks (and snap back)

Simon hated the idea of you, a newbie, at first.

Now, he's focused on making sure you don't run yourself into the ground despite your obvious distrust in him and the others.

TW: Minor Implications of PTSD, Slight Hurt/Comfort (In a Simon way), One shot (for now?), Minor Injury mention

****

Simon loved when you kept eye contact. 

“Don’t test me today, Riley.”

It was a sign. 

A sign of what, he wasn’t sure just yet, never having been the type to care if people saw him or saw what had been molded by years of life attempting to drag him down both physically and mentally. 

Not many could handle it—avoiding his eyes entirely or folding in order to show they were the farthest thing from a threat. 

You, however, were not intimidated by his size or the sound of his voice. You never bothered to pry into why he always wore a mask, taking Johnny’s explanation for face value and moving on swiftly from the conversation. Even after hearing about what he looked like through the grapevine, you hadn’t attempted to sneak a peek just to say you’d gotten one over on him. 

In fact, you might have done your best to avoid it—and him—entirely. 

Which made the situation at hand all the more tense: a storm in the making. 

“Ain’t a teacher to be givin’ exams, Spitfire.”

Your jaw rolled as you debated addressing the smart ass comment vs. the unwelcome nickname. 

While everyone had taken to trying out new names every so often without much response, he’d been dead set on what he’d wanted to call you from the get go. Perhaps it would have landed better if not for the fact you and him had never once seen eye to eye on anything, even the smaller things such as what to eat or drink. 

Neither of you had started off on the best footing, if on any at all. 

The idea of a newbie on an already solid team had come as a surprise to them all, for Simon more irritating than helpful. He’d expected a person full of nerves: pure deadweight that wouldn’t last longer than a week, if even. And if he were being honest, seeing you for the first time had barely changed his opinion despite the cold demeanor you’d had.

You didn’t look like much of a soldier even under all the gear: if anything, appearing better suited for a desk or office rather than a borderline field servant like the rest of them. 

“Name?” Price had asked, more for the others to know than himself. He’d no doubt already gotten your file prior to your addition. He wouldn’t have accepted you so graciously if not for that insight.  

“Hitman,” You’d answered, earning a snort from Johnny which he choked down after a scathing look from Price. He had tried his best to pass it off as a cough, Gaz shoving him with an elbow before smiling and taking over to avoid the other from shoving his foot in his mouth any further. 

“Hitman, huh? You must be pretty skilled to have a name like that.” 

You hadn’t reacted to either comment made, staring directly at him with an almost eerie calm that had the room’s light atmosphere faltering. 

“Dunno,” you’d said dryly, scanning the area before doubling back to scan each of them, “Not like I picked it.” 

While half true, Simon had learned through Johnny, with his shit-eating grin and all, that you most likely knew very well why you’d gotten that name pinned onto you. 

“Pure dead brilliant, ‘at one,” he’d said while cackling to himself, not even attempting to hide how pleased he felt at the information. “Bet th’bastard deserved it an’ mair. Shuid o’ called ‘em Hook or Boxer instead!”

That knowledge, along with how well the first mission had gone despite all the unexpected issues which had nearly ended the task force altogether, was the beginning of a partial shift in his perception of you. 

You’d gone from possible deadweight to a person of interest after hauling ass with Johnny back to safety, Gaz hanging off the two of you with a broken leg and a hell of concussion. He had still managed to cover you as you ran, later admitting he had just shot and hoped for the best with his slowly darkening vision.

You had proven dependable both alone and while working with the others despite being a practical stranger to them all. That was more than he could say for most people. 

The confusion on your face afterward when Price and Johnny had offered their praise had been comical, held down only by the fact that the medic had kept you longer than intended. Simon had expected you to accept the praise and finally smile for once, but instead you seemed almost angry as your ankle was being flexed back and forth. 

The fuck are you all on about? Give me some fucking quiet and go check on Gaz if you want to hover someone. He’s worse off.

The response had only earned a slap on the back from Johnny, a slew of curses leaving his lips when you nearly buckled where you sat from the action. Your expression had shifted as you nearly let out a gasp, only to swallow it down and force that same cold expression back onto your face. Price had dragged him away and wished you a speedy recovery, Johnny following but not without a final apology and only earning an icy look in response.

How you’d avoided a scolding into next year for such righteous indignation against your superior was beyond Simon. What should have been a write up instead had earned a smirk and almost proud expression from Price, the reason why only hitting Simon once he’d taken his leave and finally left you alone like you’d seemingly wanted. 

You had been worried. 

For Gaz, specifically, considering you had no reason to mention his state if you truly just wanted to be left alone. 

But you had also been hurt somewhere along the line, embarrassed by it for some reason. Simon had nearly turned back once it had clicked, but he stopped himself before he could. He understood why you’d lied about your status, the memory of you barking out orders for a medic while holding up Gaz as he went in and out of consciousness burned into his thoughts. 

Besides, you hadn’t pried in his personal life, so he wouldn’t in yours, either. 

That didn’t mean he’d forget that you were surprisingly soft when you wanted to be. 

The sensation of being shoved brought Simon back to the present, you standing in front of him with a raised brow. He huffed out a breath in amusement, it coming out as more of a sigh. Not because of your shove itself—you were military trained, after all—but because of the fact he had already been leaning against the wall when you’d entered, meaning there wasn’t much point in it apart from essentially hitting him. Even if he had been standing without the wall behind him to support him, you wouldn’t have been able to so much as make him flinch. 

He supposed you using him as a punching bag was a vast improvement from pretending he wasn’t there at all.

“Fuck you.” 

The rest of the laugh from earlier threatened to escape, and part of him debated whether or not to let it. Your face would twist in a rage at the sound, no doubt, but maybe he wanted that. 

Maybe he wanted to see you lose it for once: let out the emotion you kept inside and away from them all despite the months working together. He had learned early on that while emotion on the job was a liability, processing outside of it was what allowed for a clear head on the battlefield. 

Your frustration had already festered and bubbled over, obvious by how you were attempting to pin him down with your sharp gaze alone. 

 (you’d never be able to, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy seeing you try.)

He tilted his head, scanning over you slowly before working his attention back up to your tense expression. If he wanted, he could defuse this situation. He could leave without feeding into your anger and allow you the time alone to decompress from whatever had left you shaking in front of him. 

In the time it took to consider his options, you seemed to have had enough and wandered off toward the cabinets. Simon watched you slam them open and shut, grumbling under your breath about something he couldn’t quite catch. What he did catch was what you were gathering: two mugs. tea packets, a pot. 

Pushing off the wall, he moved to a stool, sitting at the island separating the both of you instead. 

Your body tensed as he grew closer, but you didn’t snap at him or remove your attention from the water. That was an improvement considering how he’d seen your hackles raise the first time you two were so much in a room together. He always assumed it was due to training, but a part of him had a feeling that was only a small part of it. 

A calm slowly settled over you as the water began to boil, Simon catching the exhaustion and contemplation more clearly without your anger masking it. You didn’t move a muscle which was odd in and of itself, as no matter how much training you’d had, when on base, you’d always be fidgeting somehow. 

Finger taps, leg bounces, lip or cheek chewing, skin picking, lash pulling. 

Something.  

“You’re off.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t move. You didn’t even look up at him. 

“How so?”

Simon squinted at the tone, crossing his arms as he exhaled deeply. “Quiet.” 

“I recall that being something you hated when we first met. Something about scurrying about like a mouse. Or rat.” 

You finally lifted your head after shutting off the stove top, meeting his gaze once again as the steam from the pot rose before disappearing entirely. Simon grunted, recalling his harsh words and owning them rather than attempting to recall context. 

Had he been aware of how good your memory was, he might have been more careful about what he’d said to you early on. 

(he wouldn’t have. but you’d been around long enough to know he wasn’t exactly known for tact.)

“I hate lots’ve things. That ain’t one’ve ‘em.” 

A whistle echoed as you tilted your head. “Getting mixed signals here, Riley. Keep this up and one might think you actually like my presence.” 

“Whatever it is,” he stated, not breaking eye contact and ignoring the attempt at avoiding the conversation, “Solve it. Soon.”

The last thing they needed was to lose one of the few competent people that actually meshed well with them all. Maybe not off the field, but that didn’t matter nearly as much at the moment as on it. 

“Worried about me?” you said with a chuckle as if laughing as some sort of inside joke, turning your back to him and pouring the water into the mugs as the tea began to steep. 

“Depends on what it is makin’ you so…” 

He paused, attempting to find the word for what you looked like. 

Burnt out. 

No, you were full of energy as he’d seen earlier. Not the kind of energy you usually were, though. This was more subdued yet intense. 

Like you were watching and waiting for something to happen, almost. 

He squinted as you turned back around, a mug in each hand as you stepped closer for once, placing them both down on the kitchen island and pushing one toward him. He didn’t look at it as a single word slipped from his lips. 

“Nervous.” 

Your eyes widened a fraction, barely noticeable but enough so that he could clock it. With a clenched jaw, you swallowed hard and stared down into your mug. 

“I don’t do nervous.” 

He didn’t respond, knowing a lie when he heard one. The room dove into silence, somewhat more suffocating than the anger you’d ripped into the room with as he was attempting to relax. 

“What about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Do you do nervous?” 

You shifted your head just enough to meet his gaze, holding it as you always did. This time didn’t feel as amusing or interesting, threatening to cause a frown to slip onto his lips. You cradled the mug in both hands, eyes flickering down when he didn’t respond immediately, as if it’d give you whatever answers you were looking for. 

“It was a stupid question, sure, but you don’t have to think so hard ab—”

“Every day of my life.” 

Your head snapped up at that, but before you could say anything else, he stood, moving toward the door. You didn’t need more than that—you weren’t looking for anything other than that, he knew. 

All you’d needed was something (or one) to relate to after months of being unable to do so. 

An olive branch, if nothing else.

“Thanks for the tea.”

He wondered what you looked like as he walked out of the room. If your eyes were about to bulge from your skull, or if you were irritated all over at the fact you’d made him something and he hadn’t even touched it. 

(He would have never guessed that you were left staring at the untouched mug in confusion, expression darkening at the realization that old habits truly did die hard.)

[lizzybeth1986]

A Child of Babel

Book: The Royal Romance

Characters: Kiara-centric. Hints of Drake x Kiara (unrequited) and Hana x Kiara.

Word Count: 3, 484 words

Summary: The five times Kiara uttered the proverb of a language under her breath, and the two times she did it to someone's face.

A/N: I really wanted to try out a 5+1 fic format but somehow it became a 6+1 fic instead haha

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek for KTAW Day 3: Languages, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW, @choicesmaychallenge24 for Hermes: Travel

Wolof

Princesses Lerato and Lesidi will never forget the exact moment they knew Lady Kiara Thorne would become their friend.

At lunch today, it was hard initially to tell if the meal today was to her liking. She'd made all the right noises, said all the right words. Rich. Meaty. What bold flavours. But how does that count? She's the kind of girl who has likely been coached enough in courtly propriety and gastrodiplomacy (at age 11. Eleven!), that you can't quite tell if she genuinely enjoyed the food or just wanted to please her hosts.

The sisters shift uncomfortably in their plush seats at the dining hall of their palace, their eyes barely leaving the young girl's plate. Benachin jollof rice was hardly for the weak of heart (or stomach) but that never stopped the royal family of Orphys from showing pride in this particular dish. It was, after all, the jewel in the crown of their ancestral Senegambian cuisine.

So it would pierce the Orphysian soul to its core, in very specific ways, if one didn't like their jollof. Probably just as much as it would shatter a Cordonian's spirit, if you told them you thought their Cordonian Rubies tasted vile.

"Ohhh," Lady Kiara mumbled, visibly relaxed at last. "Xifuma wante samay bët suruñuuuuu". The final word comes out elongated by a leisurely moan of satisfaction. I’m not hungry but my eyes aren’t full.

For a moment, the two girls are stunned to stillness in their chairs.

Little Kiara - Lerato is beginning to recognise - is trying to utter an old Wollof proverb about the joys of their ancestral cuisine. It's said so softly you can barely hear her, and both she and her sister can hazard a guess as to why.

Of the five words said, she pronounced three wrong. Kiara knew that, and felt ashamed.

The sisters pass each other a look of knowing affection. Not many in Europe, outside of Orphys, know this proverb that well. It is indeed the kind of phrase you will chance upon only if you've been consistently trying to learn.

She had to have been learning for over a year to get to this point.

Terrible pronunciation be damned. Next time they meet Kiara again, Lerato and Lesidi sure as hell know they're gifting her the recipe.

French

"Dammit," Kiara hisses at...well...no one in particular, and especially not to the retreating figure of her longtime (and forever clueless) crush. Now that he's gone, the urge to kick herself is becoming increasingly more difficult to suppress.

Drake Walker's loose overshirt flaps against his back as he walks out of the stable, in quick, sure, decisive footsteps. There has always been some sense of purpose in his movements whenever he leaves someplace, even if - to Kiara's knowledge - he hasn't exactly had a job as such ever since that stint he took at the stables the summer she turned fifteen.

It's almost as if that is the only thing he's certain he wants to do here. Leaving.

Kiara presses her head against the door of the stable, his fists balled up so she can resist the unnecessarily dramatic urge to bang it against the wood. She's done everything - everything her admittedly-gauche, relatively-inexperienced 18 year old brain could think of - to catch his attention.

Educate herself on horses (for obvious reasons).

Read up on woodworking (Olivia had mentioned once in passing that he adored good carpentry - nothing much was said about whether he liked practicing. Still, not a bad idea for a conversation starter)

Tried to enjoy whiskey. (Didn't get past half a mug, unfortunately. It was...interesting. She treated herself to her favourite bottle of Tempranillo later).

Came to the stables today for what she tried to pass off as a friendly chat about the winning stakes at the upcoming Derby. (She could have been talking to a haystack for all it mattered. He just looked up from his saddle tack set, took off his disgustingly well-disguised earphones, raised his eyebrows and said, "You were saying something??" before leaving without an answer)

(She'd worked so fucking hard to sound like she knew what she was talking about)

Kiara groans again against the door, weakly punching it one final time before she opens it, muttering furiously underneath her breath.

"Just give it up, Kiki," she scolds herself, hands jammed into the pockets of her coat. "C'est comme pisser dans un violon."

"Eww," a high-pitched, rather sweet voice says behind her, "That sounds like an...uncomfortably specific preference for a place to piss."

Kiara tries - and fails - to hide her grimace. On any other day, she'd be proud of Savannah for coming this far in just a few months. She's certain that her dear friend's rather successful attempt at translation is more a miracle of guesswork. A combination of remembering the few words she has been taught so far, and figuring out the ones that sound closer to their English counterparts.

(And that is how it must be. That is how Kiara knows that Savannah is serious about learning this language)

On any other day she'd praise her. But today... today she just wants to erase the last ten minutes from her brain. The last person she wants to know about her deep, tragic humiliation is the sister of the man who had crushed her umpteenth attempt to impress him to dust. With his fucking headphones.

"Forget you ever heard that," Kiara mumbles, "come, let's go see what snacks they have for tea. I'm starving."

Darija

On the day Prince Leo and his fiancée, Countess Madeleine, visit Castelserraillan after their engagement tour, there are only two members of the Thorne family waiting to receive the entourage. Kiara, and her father.

Ezekiel is barely - if ever - noticed and he would rather leave it that way. But Maman...they had to create a story for her.

The official excuse is that she'll be hosting an immensely important international art fair around the same time - one that heralded the work of Cordonia's local artisans. One that was time-sensitive and couldn't possibly be shifted around, Crown Prince or no.

In reality, her mind had been made up, the moment Lady Kaouther - the young woman her parents had sponsored for the social season this year - returned to the province in tears, swearing to never set foot in the Capitol again, reluctant to even tell Maman and Baba what had gone so wrong.

But Maman had found out anyway. The press was loath to criticize the countess' treatment of her ladies-in-waiting, drooling like sick horses over every scrap of charm and quotable quote she threw their way.

But when Ana de Luca is close enough to you to have your number of speed dial, there's no end to the tea that'll be willingly spilled at your table.

Poor Kaouther was still getting threats and harassment from afar. Mostly to keep her mouth shut about her former employer's exploits. Both midly annoying and deeply sadistic. Both sober and rum-fuelled. Some may be impressed at how Countess Madeleine managed to maintain such secrecy, from even the royal family she is marrying into.

Maman cursed and swore she would never entertain a viper like that in her presence, and who could blame her?

Kiara swallows as she sees the entourage approached. Baba knew his relationship with the royal family was already hanging by a frighteningly precarious balance. He couldn't afford any further damage, and he hardly wanted to expose Madeleine's misdeeds without Kaouther's consent either.

So yes. They were going to go through the motions of greeting the royal entourage. They were going to be perfect hosts. But Madeleine would know. Madeleine would hear their words - cascading in waves of poisoned honey - and know. And be unable to tell anyone anything. That will be Kiara's unsaid, unheard promise to Kaouther, and to herself.

The Countess is stopped by the press before she walked over to their manor, her smile perfectly in place and her hand on a rather diffident Prince Leo's arm as she answers their questions. Yes, we are in love. Yes, our economy is strong. Yes, my aim is to build strong relationships with my people wherever I go. To let them know I do it all for them, and them alone. To be the Queen that Cordonia needs, that my subjects can trust.

Kiara has never heard so much horseshit spill out of a courtier's mouth, and she's been part of enough royal courts to see the worst.

"Shakuwn daha fik alhurirat 'aw albalbulat nahar aleid!" Kiara says roughly in Darija as the entourage - led by the Crown Prince and his future consort - approach. She thinks she's so special, but really she's only about as special as a plain harrira soup served at an Eid-ul-Fitr banquet.

Hakim gently nudges his daughter's shoulder with his own. "But ya Babba," he teases, probably to lighten her mood a little before the group arrives, "I thought you liked harrira soup."

Kiara gives Madeleine one last glare before schooling her face to a more neutral expression.

Her next words are going to be quite nasty by Castelserraillan standards, but for all the sacrifices they are making today her father can surely afford her this one luxury. "Not if it wears a face as sour as her's."

Greek

Just a five minute break, Penelope had promised, thirty minutes ago.

Kiara has only herself to blame for believing that nonsense, after being in close quarters with her for an entire month - but there's something about that woman that makes most people want to keep giving her the benefit of the doubt.

('Me,' Kiara wants to say, 'I'm people')

The beam she is carrying for the barn-raising is small, but heavy enough that you'd get tired out quickly if you didn't take help. By ten minutes Kiara has to will herself to move ahead. By fifteen her thighs begin to cramp, and by twenty her head is swimming and she has a brief spiteful thought about making Penelope carry twenty beams as a belated apology. Though knowing her (and it pains Kiara to admit this; she likes Penelope too much) she would find some way to make herself the victim.

Thirty minutes have passed now, and the only energy she has left is wasted in gritting her teeth and groaning "Just...a few more...steps...till I can drop this...stupid plank...Mon Dieu!!!"

Kiara's mind goes blank for several seconds as she feels the weight of the beam falling on her, a dull pain already throbbing on her ankle.

"Ohhh thée mou," she hears a rough, gravelly, rather disgruntled voice above her, its sound causing her heartbeats to pound violently in her chest and its owner already using his strong, strong hands to save her...

"Ópios den théli na zimósi," she whispers, completely drained, "déka méres koskinízi."

It's a proverb Kiara has often heard in the Capitol - specifically for procrastinators - and she has now lost count of the number of times Penelope has left something she doesn't like to do "for later"...often leading Kiara to finish the job alone.

Drake stares back at her, confused. Mentally, she kicks herself. Again.

Of course. She should've known. Drake Walker is familiar enough with Greek that he'll maybe cuss or blurt out a phrase he'd learned from his childhood in the palace, but clearly he has no patience for metaphors, allegories, idioms or proverbs.

"Oh, uh...merci beaucoup," she backtracks, awkwardly.

Drake shakes his head - his eyes, amused, still on her face - and throws the beam away. It doesn't mean much, but that ten-second glance is fuel enough at this point for a month's worth of dreams.

Almost as if from a great distance, she thinks she can hear Esther's voice, low and concerned. "Kiara? Are you okay??"

Kiara locks eyes with Drake, and for once he meets her gaze. Doesn't say anything, doesn't even show a reaction - but at least he isn't looking away like she doesn't matter.

She smiles brightly. "I am now."

Gujarati/Mandarin

Married as they have been for six months now, Kiara can tell by several small, subtle signs when Hana is nervous.

Not that Hana makes observing a very hard task, not at all. She has an immensely expressive face.

Kiara massages the soft parts of her palm - just the way she likes it - while Hana takes several deep breaths.

"This is the first Parsi wedding I'll be attending, ever," Hana says slowly. "The bride is my cousin. This is supposed to be my family, and yet all of this feels as alien as if I never had a mother from this community." She closes her eyes then opens them again, gazing at the wedding sign on the gate. Delnaaz weds Zubin. "What if I mess this up?"

"You won't," Kiara takes both Hana's hands in hers. "And even if you do make a sliver of a mistake, Delnaaz is not going to judge you. And she's the bride; she's the one who matters. She's nothing like your mother or your uncle Cyrus."

Hana lets out a shaky laugh. "God I hope not." Her finger strokes lightly against Kiara's cheek. "One last kiss? For luck?"

Kiara presses her forehead against Hana's after they're done, sighing gently. Mon Dieu, how I love this woman.

"Remember that saying you hear from practically all the nice people in Bethulia," Kiara winds her arms around Hana's waist. "It's so prolific they should start painting it on their coat-of-arms. In Gujarati."

"Khavanu, pivanu, majja ni life." They both laugh gently as they whisper the phrase, hugging each other tighter. Eat, drink and be merry, indeed.

Hana seems to take that advice to heart once they go in, and most of the family (whether enthusiastically, or under duress - the latter perhaps a result of Delnaaz having a stern talking-to with relatives who had rejected Hana earlier) openly welcomes Hana into the fold.

The wedding goes terrifically: Delnaaz appears resplendent in a gorgeous white silk-and-lace Parsi Gara sari (that, Hana informs her, has been the family heirloom for five generations now), her (now) husband looking very distinguished in his white dagli and a black fetah atop his head. Once she finds herself comfortable among people who should treat her like family, Hana practically shines in her interactions - scintillating at conversations, singing and dancing and joking with the rest when she can.

Her Gujarati is a little shaky still, but that's hardly a problem. After all, this is the first language we're going to learn together, ma moitié, Kiara had reassured her once.

A few hours later, when the party started winding down, Hana and Kiara shifted to a smaller, more secluded alcove within the wedding venue. Dinyar - another of Hana's Bethulian cousins - pointed it out to Kiara, whispering conspiratorily that very few in the wedding party noticed this place at all and they could have all the privacy they wanted. Hana made sure they carried a sweet along.

And so here they are, now, inside a romantic little gazebo, sitting together - Hana taking a spoonful of Lagan nu Custard and raising it to Kiara's lips. They close their eyes as they savour. Silky. Creamy. Decadent.

"Look at us, playing hooky at an event when you were so worried about behaving right just yesterday. Yet won't you say this little moment by ourselves was the best one?"

Hana winks. "You know me so well."

"Only as well as you do, darling," she says, cupping Hana's cheek, "My soulmate."

When they kiss, Kiara can taste hints of cardamom and nutmeg on Hana's tongue. She laughs into their kiss.

"Zài tiān yuàn zuò bǐ yì niǎo..." Kiara says, the grin hardly leaving her face when they part.

"...zài dì yuàn zuò lián lǐ zhī!" Hana wipes the last bit of custard on the tip of Kiara's nose, then uses that as an excuse to gently bite it off her.

They tighten their arms around each other. That saying has always been a favourite with both of them.

In heaven let us be two birds flying ever together, and on earth two trees with branches interlocked forever.

Bonus: English (with a tiny side serving of Cajun French)

Queen Esther seems almost transformed when their entourage sets foot in Louisiana. In some ways, she seems even more at home here than she had ever seemed even in New York. And to think, everyone thought that place was her home!

"It is," she'd explained once, when Kiara had asked her, "but NOLA was where I was born. I spent my entire childhood here. A part of me will always remain here."

She takes them to an old favourite of her parents', a mom-and-pop shop that's still miraculously standing and - according to Esther - that still possesses the same incredible flavours. Hana is already all praise for the gumbo and the bananas foster.

"Try the beignets, Hana," Esther suggests, her eyes sparkling at her open joy. "Dip them in the hot chocolate. Best that way!"

She does...and next thing they know, Hana's best friend and wife are treated to a happy dance on a chair.

Kiara's eyes are set on what seems to be a more humble (but moist, glistening, crisp on the outside!) preparation. A croquette of some sort?

"Boulettes de chevrette," the server replies, closely watching her face.

"...shrimp?" Kiara says, after a pause too significant for Esther to miss. The server nods.

"You certainly took a little extra time to mentally translate that," she says. "Is it called something else in French?"

"Yes," Kiara replies, "We call it crevette. But that's not the part I find interesting."

Intrigued, Esther raises an eyebrow, nodding at her companion to continue.

She clears her throat. "I'm beginning to find that certain words in your French have retained their original form from older versions of our language. And with others, they've evolved over time into different words, while in our language that word remained the way it was. Chevrette was what we used to call shrimp before we started using the Norman regional variant, crevette."

"Oh wow," Esther says, amazed, "I had no clue."

Kiara smiles. "Now you do."

Later that evening, the queen confides in her.

"You know...I used to be nervous speaking French in front of you."

Kiara's eyebrows are knit together in confusion. "Pourquoi?? You spoke very well."

Esther sighs. "It's silly."

"Tell me all the same."

Esther laughs, almost as if at the foolishness of her younger self. "I thought you'd make fun of me for "speaking French all wrong". That you'd look down on me."

Kiara's heart sinks to her stomach. "Did I really sound that snotty back then?"

"Oh no. No," Esther reassures her. "Especially not with languages."

Kiara is familiar enough with Esther now to teasingly nudge her arm a little with her elbow. "At least not unless you're asking me to sleep with you. You can't imagine how many people would just say voulez vouz coucher avec moi ce soir to my face, and think they could get away with it. And this was even before Hana introduced me to Lady Marmalade!"

Esther rolls her eyes, chuckling ruefully. "I introduced her to that one."

The laughter doesn't last very long. Lines of humour then dissolve into lines of tension on Esther's face. She isn't quite done explaining yet. "I guess I was just...feeling a little out of place. So I may have projected a little back then."

Kiara nodded. She did remember how hard that season, and the subsequent engagement tour (which she often things of with a little regret), had been on Esther. And she'd never allowed those fears and insecurities to show on her face. "That makes sense," she says, "but you know there's this saying I read a while ago..."

"What?" Esther asks, her curiosity now piqued.

"'We should learn languages because language is the only thing worth knowing even poorly.' It's a quote by a Hungarian translator mamed Kató Lomb."

Esther seems to open her mouth to protest the appropriateness of the quote, when Kiara stops her. "For the record, it doesn't correctly apply to your use of Cajun French. That is a dialect. It has its own rules. En vrai, I'd love to learn more."

The Queen relaxes, even smiling at the casual reference to her - something she knows Kiara will only use when she's sure they are friends.

"I'm just saying that even if you did get phrases in a language wrong, that wouldn't be reason enough for me to scoff at you. I'd be a hypocrite if I did that. After all, I wouldn't be this good at ten languages if I weren't constantly making mistakes."

As she often does since that eventful first meeting in Orphys, she remembers the kindness Lerato and Lesidi showed her, despite her terrible, terrible attempt at saying something in Wolof. The recipe for Senegambian-style jollof, that they gave her the next time she had visited their kingdom, still holds pride of place in her personal collection of precious things.

"I think what I'm saying is," she says, taking a deep breath, "when you make mistakes but the result is that I'm hearing a new language come out of your mouth, it's a wonderful thing. To me, it means you want to learn. And everyone's pace is different, so I'm no one to judge if you take more time to learn it than on someone else. There is never anything wrong with that."

Esther smiles again, softer this time, and more admiringly. "Noted," she says softly. "And we should definitely pack some fried alligator and remoulade sauce from here to snack on later."

Kiara grins. Her mouth is already watering. "We certainly will."

--

Translations:

Xifuma wante samay bët suruñu (Wolof) - I’m not hungry but my eyes aren’t full (basically the food is really really delicious). Source: Grace in Senegal

C'est comme pisser dans un violon! (French) - It's like pissing inside a violin! (Used to describe something useless and ineffective, or to complain about not being listened to after asking somebody to do something. Pissing in a violin is ineffective, it won't make a sound.) Source: Untranslatable

شكون داها فيك الحريرة (أو البلبولة) نهار العي

(Darija)

Describing someone who is incredibly pleased with themselves, but in actuality they are like Harrira on Eid al Fitr. Used to criticize someone who thinks very highly of themselves but has no justifiable reason to do so. Kind of like saying "you think you're hot shit in a champagne glass when you are really cold diarrhea in a Dixie cup". To explain the cultural context a little, Harrira is the soup Moroccans eat every day during Ramadan. On Eid, it stays in the fridge and people eat a lot of sweets. Source: Arabic Easy Language blog

Όποιος δεν θέλει να ζ��μώσει, δέκα μέρες κοσκινίζει (Greek) - "Whoever does not want to knead, sifts for ten days". It is used to describe a procrastinator who finds every reason not to engage with their assigned task. Source: GreekPod 101.

Khavanu, pivanu, majja ni life (Gujarati) - khavanu refers to eating, pivanu refers to drinking, majja ni life means life is fun/amazing or to enjoy life. So it's basically "eat, drink and make merry". It's a popular Gujarati saying, I think, but it's associated most with the Parsi community.

在天愿作比翼鸟，在地愿为连理枝。(Mandarin) - In heaven as two birds flying together, On earth as two trees with branches interlocked forever. Basically a romantic proverb about soulmates. Source: China Plus

Notes:

The full quote from Kató Lomb goes like this:

"We should learn languages because language is the only thing worth knowing even poorly. If someone knows how to play the violin only a little, he will find that the painful minutes he causes are not in proportion to the possible joy he gains from his playing. The amateur chemist spares himself ridicule only as long as he doesn’t aspire for professional laurels. The man somewhat skilled in medicine will not go far, and if he tries to trade on his knowledge without certification, he will be locked up as a quack doctor.

Solely in the world of languages is the amateur of value. Well-intentioned sentences full of mistakes can still build bridges between people. Asking in broken Italian which train we are supposed to board at the Venice railway station is far from useless. Indeed, it is better to do that than to remain uncertain and silent and end up back in Budapest rather than in Milan."

The line about chevrette/crevette is something I read from the LSU website, from their Department of French Studies. This is what it says:

"Change is inevitable for living languages. It would be unreasonable, however, to expect change to happen in the same way in places remote from each other. In some cases, Cajun French has maintained words, structures and pronunciations which the French have long ago abandoned. For example, Cajuns have maintained the original chevrette to refer to shrimp, while the French adopted the Norman regional variant crevette as their standard word. In other cases, Cajun words or pronunciations have evolved while the French word remained stable. The French recevoir, for example, has become reçoir in Cajun French."

Source: LSU Department of French Studies