#jackson also comes for the crown but the point still stands

[hadesgoddess]

Because, not despite...

3 days until our 1st wedding anniversary! I'm trying to post something for it every day until the 23rd, so here's the first. This is a fic I've had mostly written for a while, it just needed some polish.

The song that Hades sings is this:

Balls weren’t Hades’ thing. Really, any big social gathering gave him the urge to make a full 180 and run the other way. He was a bit of a loner, even after leaving the Isle and spending time with Mal. What could he say? He had an independent life and now that he wasn’t beholden to anyone else’s rules (“Except the law, dad.” Mal pointed out.) he didn’t mean to waste time going where he didn’t want to. 

So how did he find himself standing in the entrance hall of the Royal Palace, tugging irritably at the collar of his shirt? Probably had something to do with the big puppy eyes Mal had given him the week before. Damn, he cursed to himself, she was getting too good at using those on him.

He told himself he would only stay long enough to annoy the royalty, grab a handful of popcorn shrimp, and hit the road. 

“What are you muttering to yourself?” Mal asked, giving him a weird look as she came up to his side. 

“My escape plan." He answered honestly, knowing by now that Mal would take it as a joke. Sure enough, his daughter broke into a fit of giggles and moved on. He was only half serious, the desire to blow the party off and the guilt of thinking about Mal's disappointed face warring inside of him. 

The hall was beginning to fill up fast, so he kept ahead of the crowd and moved into the main ballroom. There were plenty of corners cast in shadow here; they were going for a classic ball look and had only lit the chandeliers and candelabras. Hades found a quiet spot and leaned against the wall. From his vantage point, he had an unfettered view of the entrance and exits that led onto the balcony. Perfect, he thought.

Call him a cynic, but Hades couldn’t see the point of a ball every month. To be fair, he never attended them unless Mal asked, but even twice a year seemed to be pushing it. To him it was all a parade of frivolousness and indulgence. Hades was sure that most of the dresses the kids wore to these were only used once before being discarded. He’d certainly seen enough of them in the garbage heaps they’d dumped on the Isle all those years ago. 

OK, maybe he was being cynical.

He huffed and sunk against the wall, still feeling uncomfortable in the suit Mal insisted he wore. It was a 4Hearts original, black as a midnight sky with clever silver embroidery decorating the sleeves and lapel. The waistcoat was a snug fit across his chest and made him feel like a schmuck. Tight, formal clothes were so not his style. 

Only for his daughter, he thought to himself, missing his worn leather jacket. He'd had that thing so long, it was as smooth as butter. It also had some of his magic endowed into it, helping him slip into the shadows when he could tell he'd worn out his welcome or just needed a breather. What he wouldn’t give to be able to do just that tonight! 

But, he realized later, if he had escaped right then, he would have completely missed the moment Rose entered the room. It was like a spotlight falling right above her. From the far side the room, his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to her. She was so bright, it hurt to look and like a moth to a flame, he was happy to burn. 

A dark, thorny crown circled their brow, twilight blooms sprouting soft petals against their olive skin. Lace covered their shoulders and chest, black and delicate. Hades’ gaze trailed down her form and lingered on the dip of her waist into her hips, the curve of her shoulder as she turned to look at the person next to her. Every step in her stride was as graceful as any queen Hades had seen.

  Did they know he was there at the ball? He hadn’t promised Mal he would come until yesterday and even Rose knew his disdain for parties. 

Could she feel his gaze from across the room, devouring the sight of her like a starving beggar? Oh, how he’d changed from the dreaded Lord of the Dead. 

No, Rose had changed him. Because she loved him. 

Hades froze, shock from the revelation crashing through him. There was no way, He though frantically, No way, I’ve gotta be wrong. 

After all, Hades had thought whatever relationship was between him and Maleficent had been love in the beginning, in its own little twisted way. It had ended with him running away. Away from someone who was trying to hurt him, used him for their own gains like his siblings had.

He wasn’t sure he really blamed them. It wasn’t until he had Mal that he thought about changing. His daughter was the only one who had ever loved him, even if it wasn’t unconditionally. Hades hoped they would get to that point someday.

What did he know of love?

Then, Rose did spot him in the crowd and it was as if one of Zeus’ thunderbolts struck him through the chest, pinning him where he stood to melt under her gaze. There was no mistaking it; this old foolish god had fallen in love too. 

Even if he wasn’t sure how to untangle the jumble of emotions thrumming in his chest, he trusted his oldest friend, his intuition. Somehow, despite all he pretended to be for the world, an emotionally distant, cold god who pushed away almost everybody, she loved him. 

Despite his past, all the hate and fury that lived in him almost destroyed his first family and did destroy his second family, they loved him.

Despite the desperately lonely centuries spent ruling the Underworld, the even impossibly more lonely years on the Isle, asking her to spy on Mal while watching from afar, she loved him.

Despite the screaming, the raging, the spirals into the dark hole that lived in his soul, they loved him.

Despite the sarcastic, scathing remarks he wielded as his strongest shield and an explosive temper on a pathetically short leash, they loved him.

Rose had seen all of it. And despite... despite, despite, despite it all, she loved him...

In this millisecond that unraveled Hades entire world, Rose had flashed him a brilliant smile, one he was beginning to suspect she saved for only him and turned back to the company at her side. With the connection broken, Hades tried to breathe again, but his chest was too tight. He felt the oddest floating sensation like he was outside his own body. 

I have to get out of here, I- 

Barely able to complete the thought, Hades slipped out the doors leading to the balcony. Cool night air soothed his hot skin, hotter than usual, a welcome relief. 

Questions and doubts were beginning to creep in, right on schedule, an unusual twist on the edge of his thoughts. He was nervous, he realized with some self-disgust. 

What was he going to do? Half of him was ready to self-sabotage, try and change her mind. The other half felt like a soda can ready to pop with breathless disbelief. 

Was that stupid, soft, unbearably warm feeling he got down in the bottom of his stomach what they felt too? Did she ever feel her skin itch with the need to take him by the hand and walk by his side? Did she lose her place in a conversation with him because she could only focus on his lips and how they might feel pressed to hers? Only wanted him to smile at them forever, fondness in ever line? Did she think about how glassy his eyes might get if she leaned in slow and kiss the breath right out of his lungs? Could she want to feel his heart beat beneath her hand, resting there lightly as they swayed in an empty room?

Mind spinning, Hades stared over the balcony railing. Night had descended swiftly, like the souls of ancient Greece to the Underworld. A perfect tint of blue still peeked above the horizon, a gentle border between the falling sun and rising moon. Hades looked up for an answer, like so many mortals once did when he was Lord of the Underworld, and was struck by the clarity of the emerging stars. They reminded him of Rose’s eyes. 

Dropping his head in defeat, Hades drew his hands into fists, skin scraping against the rough cold stone of the balustrade. They deserved better than him. Deserved more than someone ready to turn away the second they realized they loved her. 

Through the miasma of building misery and fear, Rose’s voice came unbidden, a memory from when they were on the Isle before Mal left for Auradon.

“People can be foolish and reckless with love. If I found real love, something strong enough to last, I wouldn’t hurt it or give up.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut. This specter of Rose was just taunting him at this point. Hades was foolish and reckless, he knew. He was also terrified of holding on too tightly or not being able to trust his feelings. What if he couldn’t help but walk away? Maybe it was better to not address it at all, to let whatever was between them wither and die, so no one would get hurt. 

Another memory floated up, 

“Sometimes getting hurt is inevitable. But if you fix it together? That’s love. That’s what I want; someone to share their trust.”

He trusted Rose. Could he trust himself?

He wanted to try for Rose.

Maybe he would never think he could deserve her, but Rose had given him a second chance. Even though his mind was trying to hit every brake pedal and stop him, his body knew he had to be honest with her.

Glancing back over his shoulder at the now full ballroom, Hades made up his mind. He straightened his coat, glad for once to be done up like a show pony. Anything to seem put together when he inevitably made an ass out of himself telling Rose he loved- 

“Shit!” His heart started pounding when he thought about what he was about to go do and his knee actually buckled. Good thing the balustrade was right behind him or he would’ve gone down. 

“Dad! Are you OK?” 

Hades only groaned. Mal emerged from the set of doors further along the balcony, coming to his side. “What are you doing?” She asked again, her face filled with concern.

Composing himself quickly, so it wouldn’t be more embarrassing, Hades said, “Bout to go make my life either heaven or hell. I’ll let you know which later!” And strode back inside. 

“I meant...” She trailed off as he disappeared. “Standing out here alone...?” 

Inside, the ballroom was flush with bodies, all neatly wrapped in swathes of silk and voluminous layers of chiffon. A perfumed cloud floated above the crowd, making Hades’ head spin. He gave it a slight shake, to clear his mind while keeping an eye out for Rose. They were the only one wearing black in this sea of baby blues, pastel pinks, and garish golds. 

How did he not realize he loved her sooner?

Without meaning to, a smile spread across his face. He had the horrible suspicion it was the dopey, sappy, lovestruck fool kind. 

Shaking his head, Hades yelled at himself to get it together. He swept his gaze across the room again and finally spotted the deep red of the flowers in her hair, directly in the middle of the dance-floor. 

Keeping pace with the music, she flew across the shining tile, passing from partner to partner. Delight had overtaken their face, caught up in the whirlwind motion of the crowd. Slowly, he turned and followed. As they moved, so did he, step for step, around and around, waiting for the chance to step in.

Could he do this?

He wanted to do this, he told his noisy fears, he wanted to be there for her. 

And so he was.

As Rose turned from their last partner, arms outstretched to the next one, Hades slipped into the space between and caught her in one lithe move. Her eyes that had been closed in exhilaration blinked in surprise as she beheld her new partner. Hades was technically supposed to pass them on, but he’d never been one to go with the flow and when Rose realized they were with him for the rest of the song, they settled perfectly into his arms. He felt something in his soul click into place. 

“Hades! I’ve been wondering where you slunk off to!” Rose laughed, a little out of breath. Their eyebrow cocked as they continued, teasingly, “I didn’t know you danced.”

“I don’t,” He responded, feeling stiff and out of practice, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

“Then... why are you dancing with me?” She asked. Even though she was confused, Rose leaned into him. Hades felt his heart stutter with their lovely face so close to his own. So close, but not yet his.

“Because-” He tried to say, but the words got stuck. “Because, I... well-”

“...Because...?” She repeated softly, carefully, like she already know the answer. Her green eyes met his and again, he knew. They could see right through him. And still, there was affection shining in their gaze, even as he fumbled. 

He took a breath and tried to think of a different way to tell her. The quiet moment between them was only broken by the continuing steady pace of the music. And then, he knew just how to say it.

“I know you wonder why I care, I know the air is thin up there,” He sang, his voice breaking slightly with the effort to keep the words soft and private. Desire to pour as much earnestness as he could muster into the lines had his hands shaking as they left her waist to cradle her chin. 

“Because...” Hades said in a normal tone, not caring if they’d slowed in the middle of the waltzing, whirling crowd. Swaying back and forth, he let their heads fall closer together until their lips were only inches apart. He continued to sing, 

“I’m a fool in love and I can’t help myself... I can’t get enough of your love...” He finally whispered the words. A little gasp left her lips, shocked breath stolen from her and all he wanted to do was press his mouth to hers, make her as breathless as possible. 

But the tempo picked up and he followed the steps into a lift. Raised above him, Rose laughed with surprise and delight, the sound as bright and giddy as Hades’ heart felt. Thousands of flickering lights gleamed through their curls, giving his angel a halo all their own. Hades was sure the adoring smile they gave him was mirrored on his own face.

What was he scared of? Rose was nothing like his brothers and sisters. She was nothing like Maleficent. Rose was like his other side, alike and opposite at the same time. 

It was in the way she held onto him as she tilted her head back to bask in the glow that surrounded her. Their smooth skin felt precious in his hands, more priceless than all the miles of silk in the room. It was how her eyes wouldn’t leave his, drawing him into their depths as they danced on.

As she dropped back into his embrace, their feet already moving into the next steps, she leaned in to whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I was so sure I was making a fool of myself with how obvious I was.”

“Out of the two of us, it’s definitely not you who’s foolish,” He huffed a laugh, self-deprecatingly. Rose’s brows drew together, consternation in the lines, and they raised their own hand to cup his cheek. 

“Don’t think that,” Hades winced, already regretting opening his big mouth. But Rose only stroked his jaw with gentle fingers. “Life wasn’t going to make it easy for us. But that just tells me how worth it this is, how much you are worth to me.” 

“Even with all my shit?” He had to ask. “Despite all the baggage I’m dragging with me?”

Rose gave him a soft, fond look. “What do you mean, despite? There’s no despite for me.” Lifting herself on her toes, she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. “It’s because, darling, not despite. I love you because of everything you are.”

[kokorowoutsu]

-- Muse Ramblings: Ashe

Honestly I don't think I talk much about how nervous and desperate Ashe was for validation from others, herself, and really how scared she was to exist. She really had never found herself until she went to the Crown Tundra and got sick and in doing so at death's door met Leon. It's because of Leon that she found the courage that she saw him wield to stand fast against the storm she had brewing and really just... be true to her own heart.

Really there is no right way to describe Ashe except she's gone from a scared little girl to a unpredictable but vibrant woman who has to be met and felt through actions and adventure then words. Words are used for communicating and they also mean so much, but actions also mean just as much. It really humbles me as a mun to take a step back and just see how far she's come over the last few years i've played her.

( I want to pinpoint yes she is still a self-insert trainersona mix, but she's also grown much more then I have and I find myself as a person struggling to keep up with her, but it's something I aim to do because I, too, want to live vibrantly and true to myself and not feel shackled down by my own feelings and mind. )

To watch her real 'start' from Paldea's Area Zero arc where I finally made the decision to evolve Lucky into a Sylveon ( at the time I chose Empatheon because I thought Sylveon didn't fit, but in the end Sylveon did end up being the final choice ) because of the fact she was finally ready to take a leap of faith and love herself and really show her heart to the world, she's done leaps and bounds from the PWT where she still did fairly well ( better then Leon, actually! ) and went onto claim Champion Rank title in several regions where she held a fear of challenging the Elite Four due to a past incident.

She's also allowed herself to open up to people and start trusting more -- going as far as trusting humans such as Jackson despite everything that she's experienced, and on top of that, actually want to leave the confines of her home which, in the beginning, it took Kianga or Leon to drag her out. Now it's her dragging them out to a point they're more or less exhausted, lmao!

We're now moving just out of the two events from September/October and finishing up the Kitakami Arc where we see Ashe actually having an effect on Ogerpon to want to be better as well.

All in all I just wanted to gush about my main muse and honestly i'm just... really humbled to have seen her come so far in a short time. I honestly can't wait to see what twists and turns are going to come with the Indigo Disk arc since she's a Blueberry Academy alumni and not to mention the PWT 2024 as well as the Sinnoh New Years Festival 2024 is coming up.

Also... her and Leon's wedding?! Still need to plan that, but... soon... SOON.

[gamajun]

tag game: tag people you want to know better (thank you @yevrosima-the-third 🤍)

favorite time of the year: april and late august. spring is my favorite season but regardless of that, april is my favorite because it's set in that sweet time after winter ends but spring hasn't actually started properly yet, until it does at some point throughout the month. and late august doesn't have a specific reason, i just always had good memories made around that time.

comfort foods: peanuts, probably! they're addictive so they calm me down haha. i also really like to consume raisins as a snack, although not as much as peanuts.

do you collect anything? the only thing that comes to mind is my stack of old postcards with cute vintage illustrations on them! i love to go to an antique store and look for them, there's a huge bunch there and they all have interesting letters at the back from random people who sent them to their loved ones. my favorite is the one of a mother sending a letter to her child who was staying over at their grandparent's house and she's asking them if they need more socks so she could send them their way😂 also, it's always a thrill to find a good love letter!

favorite drinks: i'll be completely honest, it's still a chocolate milk to this day lmao. i'd be lying if i said otherwise

favorite music artist: truly many, but leonard cohen, michael jackson, hozier, fiona apple and taylor swift have always been standing out to me, so i think them

current favorite songs: at the moment i really enjoy love came here by lhasa de sela, i really love the seductive vibe of it, it's helping me with this piece of fanfiction i'm trying to finish lmao. also, there's this user on spotify called nobody and they make very interesting playlists and there's one called "playlist to feel like a monk meditating and reading in his cell looking for divine truth" and it's spot on

favorite fic: oh, i have many so i'm just gonna make a little list here off the top of my head

Questionable N (one thousand and one nights)

The Crowned Shape (arthuriana)

Until the Black Death of the World (deathless - catherynne m. valente)

we must cultivate our garden (christian bible)

this was our island (stranger things)

i could make you bleed (princess tutu)

Fiddler in the Mountain (beauty and the beast)

come away, o human child (sleeping beauty)

Miasma (macbeth)

sweet dreams and flying machines and its follow-up i'm coming out (i want the world to know) (stranger things)

Old Salt (princess tutu)

The Arc Towards the Sun (the illiad)

putting it in words (miraculous ladybug)

also anything @zimtlein has ever written (i'm not in ml fandom anymore but i still come back to your fics🤍)

favorite video games? night in the woods, gris, the witcher 3: wild hunt and bloodborne

i'm tagging: @love-n-purple @maudlinesque @parismystere @arthurianmotifs @feytouched @treedryad

no pressure, do it if you'd like❣️

[blessyouhawkeye]

Sorry, but I have to know. What do you mean about Jinyoung as skinship King? Please, give me examples

i mean there's a hell of a lot but off the top of my head there's the time he and jackson went on a "date" (their words not mine) for the hard carry show, and then THAT birthed their whole wang gae park gae thing, there was the time jackson asked him if he liked green mangoes or yellow mangoes and he responded with "i like you", they once had to do a Japanese show with profiles they wrote and one of jy's facts was "i <3 jaebum" and he stood by that shit!

he mostly does it with hyung line because got7 bullies the shit out of their maknaes, but the point stands! he's flirting nonstop! jinyoung Understands fanservice. OH he slapped jackson's ass once too that was wild

[indianariesolive]

Fanon vs Canon characters

(Contains spoilers, duh)

Percy Jackson:

fanon Percy: OH this is a pen guys!!! Lolz wtf am I doing again? 🤪Annabeth who? The love of my life is blue food. Omg I like, don't even know where my head is unless my smart gf points it out to me. 😅Haha

canon Percy: is actually smart, though self-deprecating and funny. Is immensely loyal & protective but has the presence of mind to quickly think his way out of a problem. Even Annabeth admits he is pretty intelligent; she simply likes to tease him like he's an idiot.(which he clearly isn't)

Wylan Van Eck:

fanon Wylan: Omg Jesper *blush* *stutters* 🥺*blushes again* oh gosh Kaz, nooo ahhhh I'm just a baby OR Yo get out of the way bitch, this is Kaz Brekker 2.0 & I'm gonna push you into the canal. 😠

canon Wylan: is very smart but insecure. Yet stands up for himself and his friends. Quite kind & modest yet develops confidence along the way. Super smart; His father is a dumb asshole for not recognizing the genius in him. Definitely a badass survivor but dosen't let his shitty circumstances knock the goodness out of him.

Nikolai Lantsov:

fanon Nikolai: Haha I'm so funny & handsome lolz 😝😏 lemme flirt *wink* ah darling I'm just here for the laughs. #partyanimal Narcissus 2.0

canon Nikolai: Funny, smart, charming & brave. Disguises his dangerously smart mind, fears & insecurities behind a well-constructed mask of easy-going charm & wit. Is also deeply patriotic & optimistic despite battling demons from all sides. Is a king through & through, even without a crown.

Jesper Fahey:

fanon Jesper: Shoot! *finger guns* *wink*😜😘 ohhhh Milo *ignores Wylan* my dearest, love of my life, aww. I'm not throwing out the goat. 🐐Haha I'm the dumb comic relief. I'm just here to be loud & funny & annoy Kaz hehe.*twirls guns*

canon Jesper: Friendly, brave, talented but also impulsive & reckless with gambling addiction. Suffers trauma, identity crisis & masks it with humor. Lowkey protective of his friends & hates to disappoint his loved ones. Likes to live in the moment. Looking for purpose in life.

Alina Starkov:

fanon Alina: ugh, so dumb, & whiny all the time. I have no personality guyzzz, besides going back & forth between Mal & Darkling. Meh, there's nothing else.

canon Alina: Snarky, sassy, insecure, also very brave & patriotic, bit of a hero complex, carries the burden of the Chosen One even though she dosen't want to solely to save her country. Is deeply in love with her best friend & is scared of losing him. Very powerful but dosen't let the greed for it overcome her & refuses to let go of her humane & compassionate side. Can be quite funny when she wants to.

Nico di Angelo:

fanon Nico: McDonald's for life. *angst* *gay* *angst* *angst* wow I'm depressed. Casually jokes of death all the time or just yells & swears.

canon Nico: Moody, depressed, used to a joyful kid but scarred by death of his sister. Also kinda angsty & powerful. Eventually overcomes his fears & learns to move on. Comes out as gay & learns to accept his identity, falls in love. Is also brave & loyal. Has a hidden soft side only a few know about. Is the Ghost King; radiates deadly authority. Speaks in a low & quite voice but still carries his point across.

Matthias Helvar:

fanon Matthias: I'm just a boring straight guy who's also misogynistic & homophobic.(insert Ch 40 joke) *Karen 2.0*  *dumb af* Being an uptight edgy prude is the only highlight of my personality. (Insert Ch 40 joke) *rolls eyes* *simps* (yet another stupid Ch 40 joke, now laugh guys, so funny haha)

canon Matthias: Big grump with a kind heart. A tragedy in childhood made him get recruited by a hateful cult. Unlearnt the bigotry & left said cult even at the cost of being branded as a traitor by his beloved country, appears cold at first but is extremely loving & tender, hella brave & wants to do the right thing. Told a misogynistic line just once then revised his opinion & started respecting the warrior sides of Nina & Inej. The only one in the group who cared for a pregnant lady. Stoic & strong, patriotic & heroic soldier, faithful & religious, believes his country can do better. Loves Nina whole-heartedly, notices Jesper & Wylan falling in love & never harbors homophobic feelings against them.

[the-ghost-king]

love seeing ur tags on my posts it means i get to think 🥰🥰 anyway mostly agree but at least to me nico’s constant need to prove himself is a sign of feeling like he’s not worth other people’s time and effort and he has to MAKE himself worth it. he does all he can in the hopes that people will notice him and tell him that he’s good enough because he relies on the approval of people he loves. he thinks love is something conditional for him and that he always has to be earning it because he doesn’t have enough worth to have it just granted to him. again this is more my own interpretation of his character and possibly a bit of projection

(Post)

I will not fail to acknowledge that I might also be projecting somewhat onto Nico, what is media but self reflection? I think there's a couple ways you can see Nico that are canonically "correct"

What I personally think happened with Nico is that he was aware he was worth more than the treatment he was receiving, but because so much rejection occurred he eventually just assumed he was the problem. There's things on this I would rewrite now but it holds up okay in what I'm about to try and explain.

The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault.

I think this is something that really describes Nico. He is never able to nestle himself in the comfort of sameness after a certain point. He is not given authority in his own story in the beginning, he is thrust into solitude, he is told he is a monster already and if not then he has no choice but to become one.

And he takes this blame upon himself, believing that it's him who has to prove himself. He doesn't acknowledge that maybe other people have their own biases against him, he says "I have to prove them wrong," and then does his best.

It's important to note that Nico is definitely grappling with Childhood Emotional Neglect, he's in a broken situation- and he recognizes that nobody wants him around, and that he's just more stress for an already stressed group of people, so he just backs down and starts to figure stuff out for himself. We see him accept some help and friendship from The Stolls in TTC but eventually he stops doing this at some point.

His leave from camp and time with Minos is when he is used:

you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this

This is something I would say is very true about this time period of Nico's life. Minos emotionally exploits Nico, emotional neglect and abuse (possibly physical abuse, who knows) are defining characteristics of their interactions. Nico talks about how Minos will just randomly leave him for extremely long periods with no assistance, and about how when he's around he's always telling Nico to try harder, to do better, do more. Note the time he tells Nico "you have no power over me", he's definitely holding things over Nico's head. I don't think it's wrong to assume comfort is a part of that, Nico is alone all the time at this point, and I'm sure he's starved for touch, and support, and connection- and he will take whatever he can get whether or not it is good or right.

At first he doesn't do anything against this, and it might be because he was so starved for attention that he was willing to endure abuse to receive somewhat a consistent form of it. I also think there's some evidence that points to the idea Nico was getting something from Minos, training and similar stuff, it's possible he was willing to form and upkeep a toxic relationship with him in order to gain experience.

However, I do disagree with "and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this" because Nico does realize eventually that his situation isn't sustainable and that he has to do something- so he takes his narrative back into his own hands:

“Minos laughed. "You have no power over me. I am the god of spirits! The ghost king!" "No." Nico drew his sword. "I am.” (X)

So Nico, if he ever thought he was worth the treatment of being used for someone elses personal gain, he definitely overcomes some of it here, if not all of it. Nico is manipulated and used for Minos's personal gain, but he recognizes that it's not sustainable and makes a stand for himself. And this is the first time in the series where Nico truly is able to take control of his own narrative, everything before this moment is Nico being forced, or Nico with something looming over him, Nico crowning himself is him claiming his story.

So let's consider Hades in all of this, I don't think Hades manipulated Nico to the extent Minos did- but nonetheless, he did manipulate and abuse him, and this hurt Nico more than when Minos did it. Again, in the situation with Hades this is also true, "you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing". By the time Nico and Hades truly start interacting, we see that Nico's heart hasn't been fully removed from his sleeve, but it may have been lightened.

Here's the thing about the way Nico approached Hades, it's not naïve to trust family. The text in multiple places implies that Hades was around for at least a handful of years when Nico was a kid, it's not unlikely that Nico may have taken naps on his shoulder, held his hand to cross the street, maybe called him "Papa", "Dad", or "Tata" (Italian, English, old Greek). It makes sense that Nico goes to him, what doesn't make sense to Nico at first is that Hades would manipulate him. Unlike many of the other demigods, Nico knows he was a choice, and that at some point he was something wanted, so he expects some level of okay treatment from Hades. Hades loved his mother, and Hades if not wanting of Nico would have wanted Maria's wishes fulfilled, and Nico probably remembers Hades treating him warmly- or at least not harshly. The way Nico went to Hades makes sense, he wasn't expecting open arms surely, but he also wasn't expecting abuse.

Hades emotionally exploits Nico by using information about Maria, what would a little boy want more than the safety of his mother? He's so starved for human contact, who ever held him more than his mother? Who ever loved him more than her? Once Nico delivers Percy to Hades, his father crushes him, not only by harming Percy but by exploiting Nico's trust through Nico's mother- one of the things he's most desperate for.

We see Nico's heart come off his sleeve at this point, maybe not fully, but enough to where a stranger couldn't recognize it at first glance, and in a way where he has the means to hide it from most.

Except we don't see much of this, because the series is narrated by Percy- and Nico can't hide his heart from Percy.

Almost everything Nico does, everything he tries to do, is for Percy. Nico is so desperate for contact that he is pliant, but in Percy's hands Nico actually wants that contact, he's not interested in imitations of love or substitutes- he's looking for the real thing.

And Mr. Oblivious does-Annabeth-like-me Jackson isn't in any headspace to realize that a boy might like him, let alone Nico. This concern that Nico will join Luke, isn't entirely because Percy is misreading signals, but it's definitely part of it. Nico likes Percy so much that at one point he is willing to go to Tartarus if not entirely for him, then partially for him.

If Percy had realized, and rejected Nico- maybe he would have joined Luke, or at least he definitely would have been more likely to. The perception of Nico we get in PJO from Percy is unreliable, because Percy looks at Nico through the lenses of a concerned older brother, and Percy feels guilty in some way for the situation Nico is in. This gives not only a skewed, but slightly falsified narrative of who Nico is.

The original post of mine I linked, although yes, I would like to rewrite aspects of it now it holds up in the sense that Nico is always trying to prove himself, and this is a bit different than being a puppet. Nico is so starved that it is present in everything, @/arabnico gets it right:

nico’s longing is just so raw it consumes him whole and he cannot hide it at all because it reflects in absolutely everything he does and is nico’s just the means of the way for them and he settles for being it because he doesn’t think he can be much better or even deserves to it is sometting so twisted because nico has this innate utalitarian desire to be useful and to do something and to do the right thing but in the game of things he’s reduced to that puppet in the hands of fate and deities millennia older than him that see a wounded wandering soul doomed to be forever alone by a destiny so cruel it keeps him on his knees

Nico, in PJO especially, has little control over his own narrative. His mother is killed in punishment for his father's "wrongs", Nico is forced to endure this. Bianca grows tired of caring for Nico and leaves him behind, this is not Nico's fault but Nico is forced to endure the consequences of her actions. Bianca's fate is decided on a quest Nico isn't even able to go on, he is forced to endure the results. Nico then breaks the cycle, declaring himself The Ghost King, and dethroning Minos. Nico is forced to endure Hades's manipulation only because he did not see it coming, this wasn't an aspect in which Nico didn't have his narrative (he had already taken ownership of his narrative) but a blind spot in his rational.

The place where we vary is why Nico behaves this way, we can agree that it's because he's starving for human connection- but you believe it's because he has no confidence he is willing to submit himself, while I see his submission as an act of desperation.

Personally, I think to argue that Nico is like this as a result of lack of confidence does a disservice to his narrative (obviously it's fine to view him however you wish, and I wish you all the fun in doing so!). To boil this down to starvation and lack of confidence removes some level of Nico's autonomy in his own life, but also strips him of one of his strongest characteristics- those qualities of him which are like Orpheus.

Nico willing to go to the ends of the earth for love is not a weakness but a strength, his ability to carry on beyond the point in which he needs a rest is not a weakness but a sign of strength. His ability to go to the ends of the earth to right wrongs, and to show his love:

"... Cupid struck, slapping Nico sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work- a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you- especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards."

Cupid is explaining Nico's idea of love in this scene, we see Jason say he prefers Piper's idea of love- but Nico only knows love in the way cupid describes, working desperately for a few moments with Bianca, working just to hear any scrap of information about his mother, always trying to prove himself to Percy- to overcome the way he feels about Percy (and boys in general).

Nico has only known love as something you walk to the ends of the Earth for, but he never stops fighting to be loved and acknowledged. Lesser men would give up and lay down, accept they are unworthy, but Nico keeps pushing to be acknowledged and accepted- to be recognized and loved without having to walk to the end of the Earth, but Nico knows he has to walk to that edge and face it before unconditional love will come to him.

To imply that Nico seeks love the way he does because he's unconfident in his ability to receive love ignores the idea that he's had his life forced into this position because of the fates. It loses acknowledgment to the strength it takes to pick yourself up and walk to the end of the Earth time and time again, because if he was unconfident then he would eventually lay down and accept he shouldn't be loved ever again.

I don't think confidence doesn't play into this at all though, it definitely has some impact on Nico, he does view himself as inherently less (he is overly self sacrificial- think Tartarus :/), and he does try to remove himself from others:

You yourself said: you blame yourself for the way people have hurt you, taken advantage of you, and abandoned you. they exploit your love and your naïveté time and time again. you tell yourself, surely, there must be something wrong with you. because—you are convinced—that people are good. “if they hurt me, it is because i am flawed. it is because i am weak. people will always hurt me—even people i love. it’s an inevitable truth for me.” (X)

And this connects to what I said: "The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault."

I do think there's a reason Nico makes himself so "utilitarian", because he hasn't been handed unconditional love since Bianca. But again we disagree on the why, I see Nico's behavior in his utilitarian example of love as caring, the way more people should be in love. Too many people see love as something given without restraint, and yeah, love should be unconditional but in order for love to be unconditional you have to do the work to lay good foundation. To be utilitarian in loving is not an act of weakness, or a symbol of lack of confidence, it is a showcase of more care in love than most have to offer. We care for things, and place value on them determined by how much love and care goes into those things.

I also don't see Nico's self blaming for what happened as flawed, it's logical in his situation, and a common result of CEN. This self blame shows care and kindness, and this coincides with Nico's arcs, "If I am bad, how do I improve? If I have no choice but to be evil, how do I still be good?". Nico is always fighting not to be recognized for good or bad, but to be recognized for what he is.

Trust is not naivety either, the only reason Nico is regarded as naïve is because of the extreme circumstances of his life. People shouldn't have to expect abuse from people who are supposed to love them, people should have to accept abuse in order to receive love. If Nico's life had turned out different, his naivety wouldn't be viewed as a weakness but a strength- a kindness.

We're not actually viewing Nico all that different, there's this space where his character blurs together, and it becomes an individual duty to determine at what point a flaw becomes a strength, and a strength a flaw. Nico's stubbornness is a flaw if we're thinking about grudges, but it's a strength in his work ethic. Nico's ability to stand on his own is a strength in terms of questing, but it's a flaw when it prevents him from experiencing love in fullness.

[seungmoroll]

Movie Night Confessions - Bang Chan

Word count: 2.8k

Genre: fluff

Requested: yes

A/N: honestly I got carried away and didn’t plan for it to be this long, but I hope you enjoy it!

“No, Jackson don’t go.” You reach a hand out towards him, but he steps farther away from you. The two of you stand on top of the hill as the sun sets in the back. The wind, gently blowing your hair and dress.

“I have to, Y/n. We can’t be together anymore. If we stay together, we’ll only hurt the people we love.” Seeing that there is too much sadness in your eyes, Jackson looks away from you.

“And what about me? Don’t you love me?” You ask him, pleading for him to be with you. You look at his crowned figure, wondering what went wrong.

“But what about Chan?”

‘What does Chan have to do with this?” You think to yourself.

“Yeah, Y/n, what about me?” Chan randomly appears, slowly walking towards you. He’s in his suit of armor, sword by his side. The sunlight hitting his features makes him look even more beautiful to you.

Shaking your head, you yell, “I love you Jackson, not Chan.”

In unison, they ask, “Do you?”

Repeatedly, you yell out your love for Jackson, ignoring the pain in your heart.

“I love you Jackson, not him. I love you Jackson.”

“Y/n, wake up. Wake up!” You are shaken awake, by the loud voice by your head. Rubbing the sleep off of your eyes, you see the owner of the voice. Not bothering to get up, you shut your eyes again. When you feel the impact of another body lay beside you, you still don’t bother to open your eyes, instead you opt for grabbing the pillow your head was resting on and smacking said body with it.

“Awe, are you grumpy because I woke you up from your dream about Jackson Wang?” He manages to grab the pillow this time when you go in for another swing and lays it underneath his head. He turns his body towards you and props his head on his hand.

Mumbling, “Yes Chan, I am grumpy because you woke me up. I’m also grumpy because of dream you.”

His eyebrow raises, “Oh, do tell me what dream me did to make you grumpy.”

Refusing to tell him what happened in your dream, you snuggle into your stuffed bear. That is until you quickly pop up into a sitting position, realizing the current situation you’re in. Slowly turning your heads towards Chan, you ask, “What are you doing in my house?”

He chuckles at you, checking his phone for the time, he says, “Well, it’s my off day and you told me to come by at 4 pm. It’s currently 4:08.”

Surprised by the time that it was, you go to check your phone, seeing that there were a few text messages from Chan. Plopping back down, you shut your eyes and groan in exhaustion. You think to yourself that it was a bad idea to binge watch Criminal Minds until 6 in the morning. Feeling movement beside you as Chan gets up from out of your bed, you don’t bother to move an inch, and when your duvet is yanked away from you, you yelp in surprise. Chan grabs your arms in attempt to get you out of your bed.

“C’mon Y/n, you got to get up now.” You mumble something incoherent that sounds like “don’t want to,” and this makes Chan hoist you over his shoulder, leading you to your bathroom. At this point, you’ve been hoisted over his shoulder so many times that it doesn’t bother you anymore.

Chan sets you down on your bathroom counter and grabs a hair tie and puts your hair into a ponytail. There were many times where you were too lazy to put up your hair, so Chan learned how to do it for you. You hazily watch as Chan prepares your toothbrush and toothpaste, and when he puts it in front of your mouth, you automatically open your mouth and let him start brushing your teeth.

“Aigoo, my Y/n is such a baby.” Whining at the name he called you, you gently kick your legs at Chan, but he manages to dodge them. Feeling the need to spit, you grab Chan’s wrist and move it away from you, turning your head to the sink to spit. Quietly getting down from the counter, you motion for Chan to get out the way to finish your skincare routine, but he grabs you by the waist and place you back on the counter. Just as you were about to speak up, he goes to grab your face wash and motions you to get closer to the sink. As Chan does your skincare routine for you, he occasionally squishes your cheeks together and laughs it off when you frown at him. After Chan was done pampering you, you went to go change into a different outfit, while Chan went out to your living room. Emerging from your bedroom, you make your way to the living room. Upon reaching the living room, you are met with the sight of Chan scrolling through his phone on your couch. Plopping yourself on top of Chan, you lay down and rest your head on his lap. Without looking away from his phone, Chan raises his arms to give you room and resumes scrolling through his phone once you’ve settled down. The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until you become bored. Wanting Chan’s attention, you begin to mess with his hoodie strings. You tie them and pull on them, yet he doesn’t give in to your antics. Pouting, you begin to boop his nose instead, and after the sixth boop, he turns off his phone and puts it down next to him. Looking down at you, he begins to play with your hair, twisting and braiding it. “You know,” Chan starts, “you’re so needy.”

“I’m not needy, I just need my daily dose of Chan.” You give him a wide smile. He returns it by gently petting your head, which makes you giggle. Remembering why Chan was at your house in the first place, you ask, “What’re we watching tonight?”

Taking a moment to think, Chan shrugs, and asks you for your opinion. You suggest watching Tangled, which he agrees to. Chan gently shakes his leg, motioning for you to sit up. Once you sit up, he gets up and stretches out his hand towards you. Without thinking, you take his hand and let him pull you up from the couch.

“Let’s go to the store. I checked your fridge earlier and there’s basically nothing in there. How do you survive Y/n?”

“I don’t need food if I have you.” Instead of finding your response cute, Chan sighs and gently flicks your forehead. Taking your hand in his, he guides you out the front door. As he drives to the grocery store, the two of you discuss what to buy.

Whining, you ask, “Why can’t we just get takeout for tonight?”

“Because dear,” Chan begins, giving your thigh a slight squeeze with the hand that’s been resting there,” it’s better to eat a home cooked meal,” he answers.

At the grocery store, you and Chan push the cart side by side, grabbing the ingredients that you need and the snacks that you want. Chan decided he was going to make you guys pasta for dinner, and while he grabbed the ingredients, he let you put them in the cart, making sure you’re somewhat participating. As the pair of you were in the pasta aisle, trying to figure out which one to get, an older lady tries to pass by, making Chan grab you by the waist and pulling you closer to him to make you avoid get bumped into. You ignore the comment the older lady makes about you two making a cute couple and focus on how close you were to Chan. 

Sure, you two were always touchy with one another, but that was when you guys were alone or with your friends. Out in public, you kept the touches to a minimum. With Chan’s job, it was dangerous for him to be anywhere near a girl, but the fans knew that you two were only best friends, so they never questioned it, but still, you didn’t want to risk any rumors spreading. 

Clearing your throat, you slip out of Chan’s grip and randomly grab a box of pasta. As you walk back to the cart, Chan looks at you with a raised eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. The last aisle you go to is the candy aisle and before you can say or do anything, Chan grabs your favorite chocolates and puts them in the cart and then he leads you to the checkout. He ends up paying for everything because he didn’t give you enough time to grab your wallet, which makes you feel bad, but he tells you that it’s alright because he’s the one that wanted to cook. On the ride back to your place, you guys jam out to the GO LIVE album. Chan laughs at you whenever you attempt any of the raps, but hey, at least you were trying. 

Once you arrive back to your place, you carry in all the bags; it’s more like you carry the one bag, while Chan carries the rest, but it’s the thought that counts. Since it was still too early to be making dinner, you and Chan decided to relax on the couch. Chan sat down against the arm of the couch and spread his arms out for you. You immediately dive into his arms and settle into his lap, proceeding to watch the Tiktoks Chan puts on his phone. This was something normal for you guys, initially the other boys were surprised when they saw the two of you in this exact same position, but as you continued to hang out with the eight of them, it became something normal for them to see so they ignored it, giving one another a knowingly look. The time you guys spent watching Tiktoks flew by fast because before you knew it, it was already 6:50. Unfortunately for you, you were already too comfortable in Chan’s embrace that you whined, when Chan picked you up and gently sat you on the couch as he got up and headed towards the kitchen.

Like a little child, you follow him into the kitchen and sit yourself on top of the counter. You watch as Chan moves around your kitchen as if he has lived here his entire life. He grabs a pot of water and begins to boil it, and as he waits for it to boil, he asks for you to wash the vegetables as he cuts them up. Standing side by side, you listen as Chan sings a familiar melody. You recognize that he’s singing ‘My Universe’ and begin to sing along with him. Moments with Chan like this were nice; you didn’t have to worry about fans or the public, it was just you and him. It wasn’t often that you guys spent time together, but whenever Chan had the chance, he made sure to spend time with you. 

The aroma of the food was surrounding you as Chan began to assemble everything together. You had helped season the pasta as Chan was washing the dishes, but as Chan fed you a piece of pasta, you realized that it might’ve been a mistake to put you in control of seasoning. After observing your face, Chan tries a bit of the pasta himself and makes the same face as you do. “What did you season this with?”

“I put in everything you told me to.” You show him the seasoning that you put in and when Chan grabs a bottle to read it, he shakes his head, “Love, you do realize that this is cinnamon right?” When he shows you the bottle, you gasp, “Oopsies.” You make an apologetic face and say, “I’ll call for pizza.”

Waiting for the pizza to arrive, you and Chan head out to your backyard and set up the screen and projector for the movie. The weather that night was perfect for watching a movie outside, so you wanted to be a little bit spontaneous and watch Tangled underneath the stars. While you were positioning the blankets and pillows the pizza had arrived and Chan went out to get it, after you had screamed to him to grab money from your wallet, which you know that he didn’t. Looking at the whole scenery, you admire the work that you and Chan did. The aroma of greasy pizza fills your nostrils as Chan walks out the backdoor, pizza in hand. Settling down on the mountain of blankets and pillows, you begin to start Tangled. Chan takes his position right next to you and quickly opens the pizza box, drooling as he takes in the visuals. The pair of you sit pressed up against another as you guys eat your pizza and watch the movie.

Tangled was your favorite movie, the storyline and the soundtrack were amazing. You could watch it all the time, and luckily for you, Chan never minded. He also never minded when you sang along with the movie, laughing when you were too out of tune. Once you two were done eating, Chan pushed aside the pizza box and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling the blanket that was sat on your lap across the two of you. You had easily melted into his warmth, breathing in his cologne. As the movie goes on, you begin to get a bit sleepy, and so you rest your head on Chan’s shoulder, face slightly buried in the crook of his neck, but just enough for you to still see the screen. Watching as Flynn takes Rapunzel to see the lanterns, you realize that Chan isn’t watching the screen anymore, but at you. Nosing at his neck, you ask as you begin to sit up, “What’re you looking at?” Instead of replying, he brushes the strand of hair in your face behind your ear and gives you an embarrassed smile. “Ah, I guess I got caught. I was looking you, wondering how you could be so beautiful.” You blush at his forward response, and give him a slight push, “Oh stop it.”

“I’m serious, Y/n, I think you’re as beautiful as the stars.” Pushing at him again, your face burns even more, however, as you go in for another push, Chan grabs your wrists and pulls you closer to him. He falls back to the ground with you on top of him. Hovering above him, you laugh at his antics, but realize that Chan is staring intensely at you with that same look from before.

Before you could ask him what’s wrong, he begins to speak, “Y/n, there’s something I have to tell you.” Taking a deep breath, he begins, “I like you. I’ve liked you for so long now, I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out by now. The boys have been telling me that I’m so obvious about it, but you obviously haven’t figured it out. Honestly, I was so nervous to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but tonight has made me realize that I want to become something more with you, and I know that being in a relationship with an idol isn’t the ideal relationship. I just know that we could make it work…that’s if you’ll have me.” It takes you a moment to process his words and once you have, you do the one thing that you’ve been wanting to do for so long now. You lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips, quickly withdrawing from him, but you don’t make it far as Chan grabs your face and pulls you back to him, crushing his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle and not rushed, the two of you wanting to savor each other. Once the two of you pull apart for air, you rest your forehead against Chan and entwine your fingers together. He gently brushes his thumb against the back of your hand, waiting, wanting to hear something from you.

“I,” you begin to say, but stop, unsure of what you wanted to say to him. Chan brings up his other hand and caresses your face, encouraging you to go on. “I don’t know how a relationship with an idol works, but what I do know is, is that I really like you too Chan. If you’re willing to try, then I am too.” Giving you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face, he brings up the hand he’s holding and places a kiss on the back of it.

“Love, for you, I’m willing to try anything.”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this! feel free to make any requests and let me know what you think.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 18

I’ll be switching point of views for this one so buckle your seat belts. I just hope I do the character’s justice because it’s been a minute since I watched the show. Also going to be changing the perspective because... My writing makes no sense and it probably never will. 

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

“I'm saying we need a new plan, because next time, one of us is going to be too hurt to heal.” Derek led Scott and I into the subway car in the middle of the abandoned depot. The unfortunate reality is that Jackson was no longer Jackson, and we only had one option left. 

Scott sighed, “Ugh, I get it. We can't save Jackson.”

Derek sat down on one of the seats, “We can't seem to kill him, either. I've seen a lot of things, Scott. I've never seen anything like this. Every new moon's just gonna make him stronger.” He said grimly.

“But how do we stop him?”

“I don't know. I don't even know if we can.” He shrugged, sounding defeated. I could imagine how he felt, powerful but so helpless. 

“Maybe we should just let the Argents handle it...” He suggested. 

“I don’t know if they could help.” I crossed my arms over my chest, “Chris filled him with lead and it didn’t stop him. I don’t think they could handle it either.”

“I'm the one who turned him. It's my fault.” Derek let his head hang. 

“That’s not true.” I looked at him sternly.

“You didn't turn him into this! I mean, this happened because of something in his past, right?” Scott asked.

Derek scoffed, “That's a legend in a book. It's not that simple.”

“What do you mean? What aren't you telling me?”

“Why do you think I'm always keeping something from you?” He looked up at Scott.

“Because you always are keeping something from me!”

“Well, maybe I do it to protect you. Both of you.”

“Doesn't being part of your pack mean no more secrets?”

Derek sighed, looking down at his hands, “Go home, Scott. Sleep. Heal. Make sure your friends are safe... 'Cause the full moon's coming, and with the way things are going, I've got a feeling it's gonna be a rough one.” Scott left with a huff, leaving Derek and I alone. 

“Der...” I said softly, running my fingers through his dark hair. He closed his eyes, humming softly. 

“You can’t blame yourself, you could have never imagined what could have happened.” 

“I thought there was something wrong with my bite.” His voice was barely audible, “Something wrong with me.” 

“No, no, no.” Kneeling down, I cupped his cheeks in my hands, “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect.” 

“You have to say that. I’m your mate.” 

I only cringed a little at his use of the word “mate” unironically, “That’s not true. I give you criticism at any chance I get. But that’s mostly because you keep turning kids into soldiers.”

“I guess you’re right.” His lips turned up slightly, “You’re like my conscience, but a lot better looking than this mug.”  He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. Grinning, I kissed his nose and stood up. 

“I gotta get home, make sure everyone’s alright. I’ll see you later.” I winked, making my way out of the depot. 

-

I got home late, but not any later than the usual lately. As soon as I closed the door, I saw Uncle Noah at the kitchen table. He was pouring whiskey into a glass, probably wasn’t his wish. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept or showered in a while. Walking quietly, I placed my hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He looked up at me slowly, blinking his pale green eyes at me. 

“I don’t know what I did wrong, (Your Mom’s Name).” He said, “(Y/N) is so distant and she won’t talk to me anymore.” I was told once or twice that I resembled my mother, but in his drunkenness, he must have thought I was her.

“I mean, hell... She was dating someone for months and she didn’t even tell me. Sure, he was a person of interest... But he was also her friend.” 

Smiling softly, I guided him to a standing position, “No, Noah, she’s just going through a lot right now. She’s still learning and growing. And you’re doing the best job you can and she loves you for it.” I helped him to his room and into bed.

“Goodnight, (Y/M/N).” He yawned, pulling the covers over himself and closing his eyes. 

“Goodnight, Noah.” I said, closing the door behind me. I took a deep breath and went down the hall to Stiles’ room. He was sleeping away in the most ridiculous position possible, having fought off a kanima and saving his friend from death. I was just happy to see him there, alive and breathing. 

“Goodnight, Stiles.” I whispered, closing his door all the way. 

-

It was the night of the full moon and my body was already feeling the effects of it. But since my self training/ anger management was doing well, Derek gave a hesitant okay for working with Scott’s Scooby Gang to keep a look out at Lydia’s birthday party. Derek and I had the betas in the railway car in the depot. He was looking through his family’s chest again. 

“What is that?” Isaac asked, looking quizzically at the symbol on the box. 

“It’s a triskele.” Boyd said, “The spirals mean different things: past, present, future; mother, father, child.” 

“Do you know what it means to me?” Derek asked. 

“Alpha, Beta, Omega?”

“That’s right. It’s a spiral, it reminds us that we can rise to one.”

“And fall to another.” I finished. It was one of the few things I remembered word for word from the research we did back when Derek was cousin Miguel. 

“Betas can become Alpha, but Alphas can fall to Betas, or even Omegas.” Derek said, continuing to look through the box. 

“Like Scott?” Isaac asked. 

“Scott’s with us.” 

“Really?” Isaac’s voice held just a touch of sarcasm, “Then where is he now?”

“They’re looking for Jackson.” He looked pointedly at me, then back to the group, “Don’t worry, they’re not gonna have it easy either. None of us will. There’s a price you pay for this kind of power. You get the ability to heal” He handed a leather belt connected to a chain to Isaac, “But tonight, you’re gonna want to kill anything you can find.”

“Good thing I had my period last week then.” Erica chuckled. Derek pulled a metal crown from the box, there were screws turned inwards towards where someone’s head would be. 

“Well, this one's for you.” Erica’s face immediately changed. Beeping made me look down at my phone. 

Stiles: 

2006 Swim Team - Lahey was the Coach.

“That’s my cue to leave.” I shoved my phone in my pocket and backed out of the open door, heading out into the open depot. 

“Wait.” Derek called after me, catching me before leaving out the door in my car that was finally back from the shop. 

“Yes?” I sing-songed, turning around to face him. 

“I wanted to give you something.” He said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, “You have something from Stiles but you should have something from me. Something that means... More.” From his pocket he produced a silver ring, it had a twisted band towards the top with a triskele cut out of the metal. 

I started down at the ring in shock, “Is... Is this a proposal?” His eyes widened.

“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut, “I mean, not yet. This... This is a promise. For both of us. You uh, could wear it on your ring finger if you want though-That is if you want it-” I silenced his babbling with my lips.

“I love it.” I smiled, taking the ring and sliding it on my left ring finger. It fit surprisingly, “Thank you.”

“Tonight... I’m probably going to get hurt. Just try to block it out as much as you can.” 

“Sounds good. I love you.” I cupped his cheek. 

“I love you.” He smiled. My hand slipped from his cheek and I made my way out of the depot. 

-

I parked outside of Lydia’s house and I was actually able to park in her driveway. From what I remember, Lydia’s parties, especially her birthday parties, were supposed to be insane and packed. Yet, I could only see Roscoe. Which meant that Stiles was finally invited. Good for him. I knocked on the front door and waited, slipping my hands into my jacket pockets. 

The door opened, revealing Lydia who was vaguely confused by my being at her door. She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at me. 

“Sarah?” 

“(Y/N).” I corrected her. 

“Oh. Well, come in.” She opened the door further, revealing the tray of pink cocktails in her hand, “Have a drink.” I grabbed a pink drink from the tray and cheered it towards her as I went inside, going straight to the back where Scott, Stiles and Allison were sitting on the deck of the pool. 

“Is this... everyone?” I asked, sitting besides Stiles in a lawn chair. 

"Maybe it's just early?" Scott said, not believing it himself.

Stiles said grimly, "Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia turned into the town whack job."

"Well, we have to do something because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks..." Allison said.

"She's completely ignored Stiles for the past ten years." Scott pointed out.

"I prefer to think of it as I haven't been on her radar." Stiles said in an offended tone.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I patted his shoulder. 

Scott sighed, “We don't owe her a party.”

“What about the chance to get back to normal?” Allison crossed her arms over her chest.

“Normal?”

She shrugged, “She wouldn't be the "town whackjob" if it wasn't for us.”

Scott nodded, “I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here...”

I pulled out my phone, “I could pull some strings with some people from my year.” I found the group text I had gotten from when I had been abducted, typing in Lydia’s address and the promise of a party and booze. 

“Yeah, I also know some people who can get this thing going. Like, really going.” Stiles said, looking down at his phone. He was looking through his contacts, finding: Drag Queen from Jungle.

“Who?” She asked. 

“I met them the other night... Let's just say, they know how to party.” He sent off the text then looked over at me. 

“What is that?” He asked, motioning with his phone to my left hand. 

“A ring. You know what those are, right?” I sipped my drink. 

Stiles’ jaw clenched, looking towards the sidewalk, “You gonna marry him.” 

“It’s not an engagement ring, it’s a promise ring.” 

“Whatever.” He got up, walking inside. I avoided Scott and Allison’s awkward gaze and just took a large gulp of my drink. 

In the next ten minutes, the amount of people who showed up was pretty astounding. Town whack job or not, promise people booze and they will come. Walking through the crowd, I saw people that I used to hang around with. A lot of people gave their condolences, lots of staring, sad smiles, but that’s how it was. 

“A little jumpy are we, Jackson?” I took a sip out of my drink. 

While walking through it hit me - shitty, over priced cologne. And possibly, a terrible attitude. And lizard. I turned quickly and saw Jackson. He was startled by my sudden movement. 

He narrowed his eyes at me, then looked away, “I don’t have to explain myself to someone who makes minimum wage.”

"I would watch my back if I were you, (Y/L/N). Full moon makes me feel a certain way." I chuckled and looked down, craning my neck back up to flash him my red eyes.

“Maybe it’s because you’re not a disgusting lizard thing right now, but I could care less that you are trying to intimidate me. You don’t even know why you came here tonight, do you? You’re certainly not here for Lydia.” 

It was my turn to narrow my eyes, “You don’t know why you’re here. So that means...” The puppeteer was here, “Good talk, gotta go.” As I walked quickly, trying to find Scott or Stiles, I found Matt getting a drink from Lydia, but he really wasn’t looking at Lydia. He had his eyes trained on Allison and the way he wasn’t looking at her reminded me of the night Michael took me. I didn’t like Allison at the best of times considering she shot me and all, but this was too much to ignore. As I walked towards Matt I was halted, like my feet didn’t want to move from what I saw. Derek was standing by himself near the outside of the house. I walked up to him quickly. 

“Derek, what are you doing here? Where are the others?” They couldn’t have transformed then transformed back by now, there was no way. 

“There’s been something I’ve been thinking about.” He swirled the drink in his hand, the same drink everyone else had, “You have a habit of making people miserable or getting them killed.”

“Excuse me?” I squinted at me, swallowing thickly. My throat felt dry and was it getting hotter?

“Think about it. Your parents think you’re too weak to keep your secret so they take your life from you, taking you from me. You’re the reason your parents are dead. You got Michael killed.” He stepped forward and with every step, I took one back, “I’m just wondering when it’s my turn to die or even Stiles.” 

“Derek, I-” My eyes were watering. 

“How about I kill Stiles for you? Save some blood for your hands. Or,” He chuckled, “Would you rather do it yourself.” He started to walk back towards the party. I grabbed his arm to stop him when he abruptly turned. 

“You know what, I’ll just let you kill me. You can handle the rest on your own.” He grabbed my wrist and jerked it, my claws flicking out. I tried to pull my wrist away but his grip was too strong. 

“No, stop!” I screamed as he slashed my claws across his throat, blood spraying across my face. Suddenly, Derek and blood were gone. All the party goers were going about their business, I was the only one who had seen Derek use my own hands to kill him. I looked over my hand and made sure the blood had been imagined. My eyes were then brought to the pink drink in my hand. This had to be the reason... Lydia spiked the drinks, but with what? I couldn’t even remember how many of these I had. To make matters worse, my stomach got super queasy-

I turned to the bushes and threw up everything that I had eaten that day. If I didn’t feel great, it was worse now. I got a few disgusted looks but that was the least of my problems. I dumped my drink in the bushes and started to stumble forward, looking to find Scott or Stiles. Thinking about it now, my mouth was starting to get itchy which was possibly the worst possible feeling to add onto everything else. I went into the house and upstairs, finding Matt groaning on the floor and Allison rushing passed me. 

“Matt?” I asked, helping him off the ground, “What happened to you?” Once on his feet, he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Allison happened. She put me flat on my ass.” Probably with good reason. 

He squinted at me, “Are you alright?” I shook my head. 

“Not really. You got gum or something, that drink left the worst taste in my mouth.”

“No,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a white pill bottle, “But I have some pain meds.” 

“That’ll work.” I took the bottle then looked behind me, grabbing a water bottle out of someone’s hands.

“Hey!” The person glared. I glared right back, “Not the time, freshman.” This seemed to scare him enough for the kid to walk away. I opened the bottle and popped the blue capsule in my mouth and chased it with what was not water but actually vodka. 

“Jesus!” I spat to the side, “What is wrong with people?” I looked at the bottle, realizing that it had no label. 

“Hey, what was that? Tylenol? Ibuprofen?” 

Matt smiled, “Mistletoe actually.” I blinked at him, my heart dropping into my stomach. 

“What?”

“Mistletoe.” He chuckled, “That’s supposed to knock you guys out, right?” I took a step back and hit the doorframe, already feeling the effects of the poison in my system. 

“Using Jackson to kill my murderers is good, but I need protection. You protected me once. From Lahey. And you’re gonna protect me again, whether you like it or not.” 

SCOTT

Scott pushed through the crowd, asking anyone who would listen if they had seen Lydia. The drinks she had made had been spiked to create hallucinations. We had to find out why. She spiked the punch with wolfsbane petals which seemed to cause Stiles and Allison to hallucinate too.

Outside, Stiles ran up to Scott, “Hey, I can't find her. And dude? Anyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out.” They watched two people cannonball into Lydia’s pool with all their clothes on. 

“...I can see that.”

“What the hell do we do?”

“I don't know, but we gotta-”

“I can't swim!” Both their heads turned. Matt was being carried by three people, he was flailing and panicking, “No, no, no, no, stop, guys! I can't swim! I can't swim! I can't-I can't-” The partiers didn’t listen, throwing him into the pool. He went under immediately. And to their surprise, Jackson and (Y/N) ran to the poolside and both pulled him out. 

Once on the pool deck, (Y/N) got Matt on his side, helping him cough up any water he swallowed. They both helped him to stand. Everyone was staring at that point.

“...What are you looking at?” Matt barked at the gawking crowd. Jackson took the time to make his exit. (Y/N) walked towards Scott and Stiles, Matt close behind her. 

“Move.” She growled, flashing her bright red eyes. The two parted, letting (Y/N) and Matt through. Immediately after, a siren cut through the air. 

“COPS ARE HERE!” Someone in the crowd shouted, causing the party goers to scatter. Scott and Stiles followed the ground out and onto the street. Scott looked down the street and saw them. Matt was standing in front of his car, dripping wet and seething with rage. Jackson in his kanima form was in front of him on all fours and (Y/N) stood at his right, claws out and fangs bared. He’d been under their noses for so long but now that they know, that meant they were in danger, all of them.

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

Read Part 19 here!

Who needs a point a view when you’re under mind control, ammi right?

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[haunthouse]

welcome to a meta that, in retrospect, seems glaringly obvious, but that has hit me like a freight train this morning. we’re talking about the lonely as a ghost story.

ghosts as an entity are inherently about disconnect. but kaylee, i hear you say, ghosts are dead people, wouldn’t that make them in the end’s domain? but when it comes down to it, death is a good framing device for ghosts (and yeah, it’s necessary to make ghosts), but people don’t tell ghost stories just because they’re afraid of death. ghost stories are told because ghosts are irrevocably disconnected from the living in a way that terrifies us — sometimes they’re intentionally scary, knocking shit around or yelling boo!, but a lot of the time they’re just... there. and that’s the terrifying part. something that’s there and shouldn’t be; something that can’t interact with the world around it and is completely, utterly, terrifyingly alone.

ghost stories are about isolation, about being a person without any of the framework that being a person requires, without society or connection or love. being unseen and unheard and unknown to all around you — and trying so hard to reverse all those un-words, to be seen, heard, known. that’s exactly the domain of the lonely!

and onto the meat of this meta: all nine lonely-centric statements (and the journey of one martin blackwood) through the lens of ghost stories.

(spoilers for mag170 at the end, but each episode section is clearly marked, so feel free to skip it if you haven’t gotten that far yet!)

MAG013: ALONE

the first lonely statement we get (and also the first in-person statement! which is such a good inversion of the lonely being about lack of connection! jon doesn’t do a great job of comforting naomi, but he does stay with her as she gives the statement when she asks!! that’s beside the point but it is something i really love), and right off the bat, the ghost vibes are off the charts.

truly i am feeling absolutely idiotic for not really thinking about the ghosts-lonely connection before now because this statement? peak ghost story.

naomi’s fiance dies. naomi has several near-death experiences (crashes her car, then is hit by another car and winds up in the hospital), which is also a staple in a lot of ghost stories; nearly dying is set up as a way to get the living closer to the realm of ghosts, able to interact with them more clearly. it was a dark and foggy night in a graveyard, and standing at evan’s (open, empty) grave, naomi hears his disembodied voice leading her home.

when ghost stories are told from a distance, they’re about the horror of it — disembodied howling, faces in the window that keep you up at night. but when they’re told by someone close to the now-ghost, they’re love stories. it’s my grandmother hearing her father’s breathing one last time after his death, giving her a chance to say goodbye. it’s a familiar and loving presence, comforting you. that’s what naomi’s story is — the ghost of evan showing his love for her one final time.

MAG033: BOATSWAIN’S CALL

so, ships are meant to be places of community, right? ron @gerrydelano​ has a really good post about this regarding shanties. but ghost ships are an established trope of ghost stories: the inversion of what a ship should be, lacking all life and community, silently traversing the waters on its own.

the tundra is a ghost ship. it’s quiet (”very quiet... it was like they were doing everything in their power not to think about each other”) — the people there move around one another as if none of them are there, all so taken by the lonely. their cargo containers are empty. all they’re transporting on that ship is the ghosts of those aboard.

this episode falls into the trope of ghosts want the living to join them — though there’s still a mourning atmosphere when sean kelly is taken fully by the lonely, that final bit of life on the ship extinguished. (”no one said a word, but i could have sworn a few of my shipmates were crying.”)

MAG048: LOST IN THE CROWD

this one’s one of my favorites! andrea nunis’ statement deals with different kinds of loneliness — she begins it with explaining that she prefers to travel alone, but later, that loneliness is something terrifying. she’s in a crowd of unrecognizable people, unable to fit herself into the world she’s seeing — she’s completely separate from the rest of the world. she’s a ghost. 

“it wasn’t italian being spoken ... or any other language i recognized. the more i listened, the more i realized it wasn’t a language. there were no words, it was just noise.” “their faces were a blur, each and every one of them.” and, the crowning point: “i tried to talk to them or to shout, to scream at them, but there was no reaction.”

by being taken in by the lonely, andrea’s been turned into a ghost. she cannot interact with or even recognize her environment, and that’s the real horror — it isn’t just being alone, it’s being surrounded by something that should be familiar; a crowd is something she’s been in a thousand times, as someone who travels a lot, and people are the most familiar thing in the world, like looking in a mirror! but it isn’t. everything is strange and she is outside of it all and that’s what a ghost is.

and her connection to her mother is what pulls her out. people have talked at length about how love is the antidote to the lonely so i won’t go on too long about that, but the connection between that & ghosts’ relationships to the living often being what keeps them around is sure something.

also, after getting out of the lonely andrea says “i made sure i was always in sight of at least one other person” — and there’s something to be said there about needing to be seen to be real. 

chiara @red-reys​ brought up this feuerbach quote which fits very well: “that which i alone perceive i doubt; only that which the other also perceives is certain.” being the only one to perceive something (for example, a ghost), or the only one who is utterly unperceived, is a very lonely thing — it isolates you entirely from those who do not perceive it. being perceived, or having someone else see what you see, can give you an anchor.

wow i’m sure that won’t come back later!

also, far be it from me to talk about this statement without mentioning gerry keay. because it means something that he’s the one to give andrea the tools she needs to pull herself out of the lonely. gerry is someone completely lacking in human connection, who is literally haunted by the ghost of his mother and later is seen as a ghost himself. gerry doesn’t have friends; he tells jon “i always wanted my friends to call me gerry,” but in a tone that makes it clear he didn’t have anyone who could’ve. and of course he didn’t. a life so entwined with the entities and cut so short, a life so ruled by the cruelty of others that he certainly did not want to rope anyone else into. 

though gerry’s never directly stated to be affected by the lonely, he’s certainly lowercase-L lonely at the very least, and he’s certainly got enough experience with ghosts to understand the lonely. 

gerry is the trope of the helpful spirit. he’s the ghost who’ll give you directions on a deserted road and disappear when you turn around. he gives jon the information he needs to understand the entities, he gives andrea the information she needs to not become a ghost.

MAG057: PERSONAL SPACE

alright so this one is, admittedly, more cosmic horror than anything else, but if y’all’ve seen any of my comics you probably know i’m very passionate about space ghosts & haunted spaceships. and as such, i’m extremely interested in how the daedalus mission echoes ghost stories.

carter chilcott’s story pretty directly acts as a ghost story — unable to communicate with the others on the ship even when he tries, unable to interact with the world to the point of looking out the window at one point to find the world entirely missing. this is all stuff i’ve said already about the other statements, so i’m glossing past it, because what interests me more is the daedalus as malicious architecture.

because the daedalus was created specifically for this union between vast, lonely, and dark (all of which i think have significant ghostly tie-ins). everything about how the ship itself and the mission came to be is a mystery, even to those involved — manuela says “i don’t know how he convinced the lukases and fairchilds to help finance the project,” “i don’t know if they were working on rituals of their own,” “exactly how the launch was arranged, i couldn’t tell you.” 

a piece of the traditional haunted house is a sort of timelessness, and mystery inherent in its building. hill house in shirley jackson’s haunting of hill house “seemed somehow to have formed itself, flying together into its own powerful pattern under the hands of its builders... it was a house without kindness, never meant to be lived in, not a place fit for people or for love or for hope.” the oldest house in the game control is malicious architecture at its finest, and it’s called the oldest house. it predates people. it exists as a giant piece of brutalist architecture smack dab in the middle of new york, but no one knows why or how it came to be. as a real-world example: the winchester mystery house is wrapped up in mythos about its creation. was sarah winchester just a lonely old woman with a hobby for architectural design, or did she create endlessly spiraling staircases and doorways with a steep drop into the yard to keep ghosts away? who knows! we sure do like to speculate, though.

yes, i’ve talked about this in tma metas before. highly recommend jacob geller’s control, anatomy, and the legacy of the haunted house for more of this content.

even manuela dominguez, the only person on the daedalus mission who actually knew what she was doing and wasn’t just there to be a victim of entities they did not understand, does not know how the mission came to be. 

and the entire purpose of this spacecraft is to be malicious to its inhabitants! the very architecture is meant to make the people within into perfect snacks for their respective entities! the station is cramped (”so cramped that i could only fully stretch out in the section used to exercise,” says jan kilbride), but when the vast takes hold it’s suddenly endless — “a hollow pretense of a shell that did nothing to separate me from the void.” (cue me shouting about how much trust we put in the places we live, and whether or not that trust is warranted, how easily it can be turned against us!)

a few other bits of this statement that really echo ghost stories: “twice i was woken up by the sound of the door opening, only to find it as tight as it had ever been. throughout the daytime i would occasionally hear footsteps, which shouldn’t even have been possible in zero gravity.” and then the empty, ghostly spacesuit that floats past chilcott’s window — there are so many stories about disembodied wedding dresses or mourningwear walking the halls silently, so why not a spacesuit?

i started this section saying this statement was more cosmic horror than ghost story but i’m finishing it by saying this is actually one of the clearest representations of haunted architecture in the whole podcast. (other examples off the top of my head include upon the stair & a cosy cabin, the latter of which i actually already wrote a meta about.)

MAG092: NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS

the moment i started thinking about the lonely-ghosts connection i remembered this episode, because it’s so clear. complete disconnect, existing entirely alone in a shadow of the world you once knew, unable to interact with the living in any way.

very small bit but. “as the cab pulled away, it seemed to have no driver that i could discern” vs the theme of ghost carriages in older ghost stories. i am looking directly at it.

barnabas bennett can “almost think i hear the mocking joy of my friends, but there is nobody here.” he can see evidence that life continues around him, unseen — “i know that what is done by those i cannot see might be felt here — i have found glasses broken and pages torn that were not so the night before.” just as a ghost is unseen to the living, the reverse is true: bennett can see others having an impact on the world in small ways, and his letter is found by jonah, but he can’t really affect the world in any real way.

MAG108: MONOLOGUE

this one is so exciting to me because theater ghosts are a huge trope in ghost stories! theater people are some of the most superstitious people you’ll ever meet! especially regarding ghosts having an impact on their shows — there’s the superstition regarding The Scottish Play™, the tradition of leaving a ghost light on onstage to appease the spirits. there’s that time all the kids in my production of brigadoon when i was in middle school circled around the makeup mirrors to play bloody mary and got thoroughly chewed out by the adults in the cast. theater’s full’a ghosts!

(i think it’s something about the intense amounts of history behind it — and how, in playing a part that a thousand people have played before, you’re echoing their exact words, becoming a repetition of those long gone. and on a stage, blinding lights in your face washing out any view of the audience — you could, technically, leave the stage and interact with the people down there, but it seems pretty entirely impossible when you’re up there. you’re being perceived but can’t see in return. you’re essentially a ghost putting on a show for the living on a loop.)

the statement-giver for this one, adonis biros, echoes a lot of those sentiments, actually. “your words heard by no one — and in that no one, an entire universe.” “have you ever had stage lights in your eyes? ...you can look out into the audience and see nothing at all. just you.”

i said before that “when ghost stories are told from a distance, they’re about the horror of it — disembodied howling, faces in the window that keep you up at night.” the disconnect between the anonymous audience and the singular actor onstage makes the distance here extreme — so this is the sort of ghost story that’s unquestionably a horror story, focusing on the most chilling aspects of ghosts. their inhumanity, their anonymity. the theater masks adonis sees in the audience are “empty. it was a hollow shape of a man that had no life, no presence to it.” even adonis himself says he “had no doubt that what i had seen was some sort of specter or omen.”

he sees a “masked mockery of a human figure” in a window while walking at night. ghosts looking through windows is enough of a trope that once, when i went on a ghost tour in williamsburg, at least half the stories were about people seeing ghostly faces in windows, and i completely freaked out when i saw someone moving around in one of the houses before realizing, oh, some of them are still actually occupied.

this one’s undoubtably a collaboration between stranger and lonely, but i think that intersection’s one of the best for ghost stories — something not-quite-human-anymore, if it ever was, haunting you.

MAG150: CUL-DE-SAC

a lot of the bare bones of this statement are things i’ve already covered, so i’m not gonna go too in-depth on it. herman gorgoli’s statement is about disconnect (from alberto, and then from the rest of humanity), about isolation, about houses-gone-wrong (his and alberto’s house in cheadle, which he views by the end as a place imprisoning him, and the titular cul-de-sac).

we’ve seen the malicious architecture trope in the form of the daedalus already, but this time it’s on earth. it’s something that should, by all rights, be familiar. the houses in the suburbs are all the same, but it’s at least a sameness you know. but they’re all bereft of any irregularities, ghostly echoes of what a house should be.”there were no lights on in any of the houses.” he even finds a dead body in one of the houses — but the woman who’s body he finds is not the one haunting them.

it’s herman haunting the neighborhood, until his love for alberto brings him out. herman making his way through houses he cannot interact with in any meaningful way, whos details he cannot interpret. “how many corpses lay waiting behind the placid facade of this endless false suburbia?” he wonders, and i have to imagine he’s also wondering if he’s already joined their ranks, if he’s the haunting in a haunted house.

and connection brings him back and the houses are no longer empty, no longer waiting for a ghost to take resident in their hallways.

MAG159: THE LAST   (& martin’s journey in season four, generally)

we’ve all analyzed 159 within an inch of its life but i’m here to do it again, with the context of martin’s whole journey into the lonely. because the lonely turns people into ghosts. the lonely takes away humanity and life and leaves a hollow echo in its wake.

literally the powers lonely avatars have involve turning invisible. what else is often associated with invisibility? ghosts. checkmate. i’m running out of steam a bit but i swear these are good points i’m making. trust me.

what makes ghost stories so good is that even if the narrator is not a ghost themselves, just experiencing a ghost puts them at a fundamental disconnect from society. it’s something disbelieved by so many people. (there’s parallels to be made with mental illness here, but i... don’t really feel like making them right now. they’re definitely there, as is the very potent lonely-depression connection that made ep170 hit so hard for so many of us.) in hill house, the more eleanor is wrapped up in the goings-on of the house, the less she’s able to relate to the other people there. the closer martin becomes to the lonely, the less he’s able to talk to the people around him — he’s told not to talk to them by lukas, but he’s also just... unable to relate. their experiences are different than his, at this point.

nicole @brunetteauthorette99​ said something really good in our conversation about this, about ghosts “being stuck in... spaces that have moved on without them, reenacting their defining moments in life over and over again without the possibility of change.”

martin is stuck in the institute. he probably has an apartment, but we don’t see it, and i can’t imagine he as he is by season four has put much effort into decorating it or making it feel like a home. every place is impersonal — somewhere he exists without really living.

and the institute moves on without him. jon goes into the coffin and martin doesn’t know until he’s already in there. and martin can impact his environment only in small ways — leaving tape recorders on the coffin in an attempt to anchor jon home, leaving the tape of jon’s victim for melanie, basira, and daisy to find. he will not or cannot speak to or touch other living beings, just move objects around in a desperate attempt to get a message across, a ouija board of tapes and post-it notes. his moment of rejecting the lonely’s plans in 158 is dropping the knife peter has given him — another expression more through his interactions with his environment than any human connection.

martin says the lonely always had him, and with how much his story revolves around people who may as well be ghosts, that’s true. his father disappeared and left only the image martin had of him in his mind, only the echo he himself provided in the mirror, the ghost of someone who hurt him overlaid on his own reflection. his mother was only present so far as she could be malicious, disapproving; a vengeful ghost, taking out the revenging instinct she had for martin’s father on martin. and then everyone else martin cares about dies — sasha’s gone and not!sasha acts as her malicious echo for a while; tim dies; jon dies. and yeah, he comes back — but he’s different. a ghost of sorts. martin’s already pretty ghostly by then, too.

so martin is, essentially, a ghost throughout season four, and probably beforehand, as well. jon literally! asks martin! if he is a ghost! in season one! which brings us to 159: “are you real?” martin asks the first living person he’s really talked to in who-knows-how-long. because martin doesn’t feel real, so how could anyone else be? “nothing hurts here” may be a contradiction of the literal experience of ghosts we see in tma (gerry saying “it hurts, being like this”), but is a very real perception of ghosts in ghost mythology as beings beyond pain, beyond the suffering of being alive. sometimes they exist to cause others that suffering they can no longer feel, but a lot of the time, they’re just melancholy, having forgotten what it’s like to be a person or hanging on just enough to yearn to return to that feeling of life.

“i’m the reason he... i did this to him as much as you,” jon says. in ghost terms: martin died for him. of course his connection to jon, then, would be the only thing able to bring him back.

mag159 is an orpheus/eurydice story — people have made posts about that before, i’m sure, and i have too, how jon and martin invert the orpheus archetype by being saved rather than damned by the act of sight. and it feels obvious to state it, but for clarity: eurydice dies. orpheus, alive, tries to save eurydice from the underworld, where she is a spirit, a ghost, an echo of herself.

MAG170: RECOLLECTION   —   (SPOILER WARNING!)

this episode is the reason i’m making this post, but i may as well copy-and-paste the entire transcript for this section, because there is truly not a single part of it that doesn’t resonate as a ghost story. 

the lonely house as a malicious location. the chairs are all uncomfortable, the house is large enough that just by wandering it (as a ghost might) martin grows tired enough to sit in them regardless. the decorations are wrong — all the rooms are the same and martin doesn’t like it, said he doesn’t know “why i’d decorate my house like this.”

it isn’t a small house. there’s a reason a lot of ghost stories take place in twisting mansions where you can never quite find your way back to where you started. ghost stories thrive on that isolation, that loneliness — if you see a ghost while you’re alone, are you sure you’ll be believed? doesn’t that just isolate you further? architecture can twist around those within it until they’re trapped, doomed to haunt it themselves. “it's such a - such a big house, my house, there must be other people!” martin says. 

but the only others in the house are ghosts like martin. 

“hundreds, thousands of lost souls, wandering the halls. hollow memories, with eyes full of tears. i’ve seen them. they’re all trying to remember.” 

“i found someone else, wandering around. they were all thin and gray. faded. like they’d been here for ages.”

the ghosts cannot remember their names, why they are there, whether or not it is their house they exist in. they’ve become near-inseparable from the fog around them and the architecture that holds them hostage.

and the house itself, it takes all of that, and its quirks — the size, the chairs, the decorations, all of which martin openly does not like — are all made from the people haunting it. the house is wrong because the people within it can no longer change it. martin’s comment on the decorations sticks with me because it’s such a simple example of this: presumably, he could affect the house in some way in the past, but he no longer can, and he’s stuck with the results of his past mistakes, echoing over and over from room to room. the impacts remain even when the people have faded so far as to be practically nonexistent.

and once again: love is what makes him remember, over and over. he remembers jon, and then the lonely steals that memory — but the remembering is what’s important, because the act of loving anchors martin, and it helps him remember who he is, repeating his name over and over.

ghosts lack identity. whether it’s because they’ve been forgotten by all who knew them in life, whether it’s because it’s too painful to hold onto that when they can no longer do anything with it — we assign names to ghost stories, connect them to the living, but there’s always a disconnect there.

and that’s what helps jon find him, helps martin keep himself from fading out again. and even jon says “you were faint” upon finding martin. martin was a ghost haunting that house.

but not anymore.

the lonely is a ghost story. the lonely is about people who’ve become unmoored from human connection and their own identities, who haunt places, or who’ve been lured into places that are hauntings in and of themselves and have no choice but to take up residence as ghosts within those walls.

and ghost stories, often, are love stories. love keeps us tethered to life, and love is what saves people from the lonely, over and over again.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

I’ve been tagged by @klaineharmony and @wordshakerofgallifrey in one version of this and b @radioactivepigeons in another so I combined the 2 (there was one question difference lmao).

How many works do you have on Ao3? 

146 (and like many who have done this before me, a couple are drabble collections and such)

What's your total Ao3 word count? 

530,111 words which... wow.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? 

Oh dear GOD if I listed each individual comic series we’d be here all day. We’re gonna go with the five I know for sure off the top of my head w/ the 3 big subcategories for comics. 

DCU 

> Batman comics

> Teen Titans/Titans comics

> Young Justice cartoon

Newsies

Les Mis

Percy Jackson

Harry Potter

What are your top five fics by kudos?

All of these are older and Batfandom so I’m not even remotely surprised by this. 

Family Gatherings Dick wakes up to a text from Bruce asking that the whole family meet at the Manor that night, causing him to stress out all day.

No Judgement Damian crashes at Jason's apartment and has to explain to Jason why.

Nursing a Sick Bird Tim loses contact with his family when he gets sick for a week, causing Dick to come and check in on him.

Bat Kid Jam Sessions All of Bruce's kids play an instrument which gives Dick Grayson and Jason Todd an idea.

Annual Wayne Enterprises Take Your Kid to Work Day Bruce has Tim, Damian, and Dick all coming to WE for the day and he's a bit nervous over what kind of mess they might make.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not? 

I do! Though I see now there’s a bunch sitting there that I haven’t yet. I’ll get to them when I’ve got more spoons. I love interacting with people and knowing what they like about my stories and writing. It makes me really really happy. 

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t really write angst? I don’t think I write angst. I write a lot of ennui. So much ennui. And bittersweet endings. Donna Troy and the Outlaws may be the closest to an angsty ending cause they only get one resurrection out of a possible two? But again, it’s more bittersweet than anything. 

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

DO I EVER. Yes. Yes I write crossovers. Mainly modern au newsies/les mis cause it just makes sense. The craziest one has to be from my main newsies/les mis series A crooked politician? Yeah but that ain't news no more where I dropped so many references in media, networking, and other things you don't learn in a lecture to Hairspray and Hamilton characters that I wrote the “shit show” of the four musicals being combined in a modern au that I alluded to (and I think I was encouraged if I remember correctly) and it’s called Cautionary Tale.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? 

Not so much hate as someone doing what was essentially a “well, actually” on the politics in one of my Crooked Politician fics. The moral of the story is character views and emotions and blatant optimism do not directly reflect that of the author and I did study political science and know my stuff. OH! And then there’s my crowning glory of a DIFFERENT Crooked Politician fic being quoted out of context in a New York Times article. That isn’t really hate but it was certainly something. 

Do you write smut? If so what kind? 

Haha. No. 

Have you ever had a fic stolen? 

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I welcome translations and podfics!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! @wordshakerofgallifrey and I cowrote Costs of Civil Disobedience as part of her Piano Man au and by that I mean were LITERALLY typing in the same doc at the same time. It was wild and amazing. From Across the Bar isn’t cowritten but is my companion to her fic Play Me A Memory. @radioactivepigeons were working on a leverage!newsies au but then we both got busy. 

What's your all time favorite ship? 

I? Don’t think I have one? Uh... Beatrice and Benedick from Much Ado About Nothing? Parker/Hardison/Eliot from Leverage are the ultimate ot3? I care very little about ships. If I like it, I like it. If it squicks me, it squicks me. If I don’t care, I don’t care. Sorry?

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? 

Oh the Batfam Ghostbusters au. The concept is still solid but I just don’t have the motivation or know where I would go with what stands. If anything I’d strip it for parts and write it new. 

What are your writing strengths?

I have been told my descriptions are really strong but personally I think that my character voices/dialogue is. Also my ability to write teenaged ennui. Any ennui. It’s a mood. 

What are your writing weaknesses? 

Grammar! I do weird shit with my sentence breaks and make run ons and just absolutely butcher punctuation. And balancing characters in ensembles. That’s hard. 

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’m going to quote @radioactivepigeons here cause I agree with it wholeheartedly and she puts it better than I possibly can rn: “I think there needs to be a narrative purpose. Like, is it building dramatic irony? Is someone being purposefully excluded from the conversation? Is there a characterization where the linguistic difference matters?“ If the answer is no then just note it’s being said in the other language. 

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for? 

Actually physically wrote a story out? Batman. I wrote a “patrol report” as Batgirl to my friend as though she were Robin in middle school as part of a christmas present. 

What's your favourite fic you've ever written? 

Oh this is hard. Uh glitter and gold is like my love of DC characters made manifest and is absurdly long but like there’s certainly scenes I like more than others. Three Card Draw might be my favorite? I love the vibes and the little world I made and using it to work out my own thoughts about gods and magic as a stepping stone for my original stuff. 

Since I think literally everyone I know in the newsies fandom has been tagged in this at some point I’m going to kick it towards the dc folks. Absolutely no pressure to do this. @audreycritter @oh-mother-of-darkness @sohotthateveryonedied @preciousthingsareprecious @whore4batfam

[refinedbuffoonery]

Flawless (7)

Con Artist AU. masterlist. 

Content Warning: swearing, PTSD, violence, sex

Before we get started here, you all need to know that Flawless will be going on a mini-hiatus. This chapter is the end of my original outline, and I need to spend some time planning out the next plot arc before I write the next chapter. 

(Also, shoutout to the lovely humans who translated the line in French. Y’all are the real MVPs.)

Anyway, this is it. The chapter you’ve all been waiting for. The heist. It feels so surreal to finally write it. As always, thank you for coming on this wild ride with me. ❤

*****

In the shadow of its brightly illuminated landmarks, Paris hummed to the tune of debauchery. 

Paparazzi gathered around the Louvre’s glass pyramid, waiting to capture a clear picture of a celebrity guest entering the afterparty. Riley shielded her face with her clutch as she walked in, careful to remain unidentifiable in the barrage of photos. The gold buttons on her emerald jacket-dress caught the warm light emanating from the pyramid and the bright camera flashes. She was well dressed, but not enough to stand out. Tonight, Riley needed to blend in. 

She ran a hand through her hair, making sure the loose curls covered her earpiece. For the sake of stealth, the team’s comms were skin color, but they were Nikki and Cage’s skin color, not Riley’s. 

Riley was half-tempted to throw her comms into one of the fountains out of spite. 

She was the last of the Five Eyes to arrive. They staggered their arrivals to avoid being associated with one another, as a precaution. Pulse thrumming in anticipation, Riley bounced on her toes slightly as she waited in line to check in. The Louvre security team meticulously checked each guest’s ID against the guest list; there would be no party crashers tonight. 

It had been all too easy for Riley to add the Five Eyes’ cover identities to the guest list a week ago. Now, she handed the stone-faced security guard a drivers’ license bearing her face and the name “Danika Jackson.” Returning her ID with a nod, the security guard stepped aside, allowing Riley to enter the party. 

Everyone is responsible for their own entrance and exit. That was her new rule. She got everyone’s names added to the guest list, but her assistance ended there. If someone ran into trouble, it was on them to bail themselves out. 

Riley had learned that rule from her mentor when she first dipped her toes into the world of two-faced schemes and nimble-fingered cons, but she never truly understood it—or saw the need to enforce it—until she felt the bite of handcuffs digging into her wrists. 

It was a mistake she’d never make again. 

Riley strolled through the hallway bearing massive Italian paintings, slowly making her way to the room containing the most overrated painting of all time—and the rendezvous point. 

The Mona Lisa room was empty aside from a blonde woman in a beaded, blood-red cocktail dress standing much too close to the glass-encased painting. Riley stood to the woman’s right and studied the painting as well. It was underwhelming. 

“You’d think the most beautiful woman in art would be wearing a prettier dress,” Nikki remarked.

Riley snorted, crossing her arms. “Says the woman who just bought a four-thousand-dollar cheetah print pantsuit.”

Nikki feigned offence. “You’re just jealous because you couldn’t pull it off. Anyway, quiz time. What year did da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa?” 

“1503,” Riley answered easily. “And the woman’s name is Lisa del Giocondo.” Nikki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What’s that look for?” 

“I didn’t think you actually listen when I talk about art.” 

Riley offered her friend a small smile. “I’m always listening to you.” The sound of heels clicking down the hall made them pause. When the coast was clear, Riley murmured, “Is everyone in position?”

“Yeah. Desi and Sam should be inside already, and Jill checked in a few guests in front of me.”

“How did that go?”

“Easy peasy.” Nikki glanced at Riley and softened her tone. “Are we sure Jill is ready for this?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we? Don’t forget, it was your idea to recruit her.”

Nikki turned back to the Mona Lisa. “You know, you really do suck at pep talks.” 

“Oh shut up.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you want control room duty?” 

Nikki spared her a sideways glance. “I’ll do it. You did it last time.” Her second sentence hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the job gone horribly wrong. And a reminder of all the things they still hadn’t talked about. 

Riley brushed it aside. They could talk after they were each forty million dollars richer. 

Pulling a flash drive hidden inside an old lipstick tube out of her clutch, Riley instructed, “Plug this in, and it’ll do half the work for you.” 

“Thanks.” Nikki put the tube in her own purse. “See you on the other side.” 

“Don’t get caught.” 

“Don’t get caught,” Nikki parroted, and Riley strode down the hall toward the party.

She followed the pulsing music and the stream of guests to a room in the far corner of the museum, passing the employee door Nikki would sneak into along the way. Crossing the threshold, she couldn’t conceal her gasp. Riley had seen plenty of opulent rooms over the years, but the Galerie d’Apollon was something else entirely. Gold moulding framed the dozens of paintings covering the walls and the arched ceiling. Display cases containing the French Crown Jewels formed a line down the middle of the rectangular room. Despite the party’s couture dress code, the bedazzled guests looked entirely underdressed compared to the grandeur of the gallery.

She only let herself be awestruck for a few seconds before getting to work, marking the exits and security cameras. Riley didn’t like how deep the gallery was in the museum—and how far she would have to walk to make a clean escape with the jewels. 

She would be the one walking out with them. No one else. Riley had made that crystal clear during the team planning meeting a few days ago. 

Draped in black fabric, the case containing the designer jewelry sat in the middle of the gallery. A security guard stood by it, no doubt to ward off nosey guests wanting a sneak peek. 

A wave of nausea passed through her, reminding Riley that the closest thing to a substantial meal she’d eaten all day was the two pastries she ate a few hours ago. She slipped through the crowd with practiced ease, heading for the snack table. Jill was already there, gorging herself on bread and cheese. Eyes wide, the blonde froze as Riley sidled next to her, evidently thinking she was in trouble. 

But Riley simply reached for a piece of bread and asked, “Which cheese is the best?” 

Exhaling audibly, Jill pointed a manicured, light blue nail. “That one.” Riley tried it. Jill was right; it was delicious. 

“You ready, Blondie?” Riley asked, lowering her voice. “There’s no job unless you get this right.” 

Jill rolled her shoulders back, snarking, “No pressure or anything.” There was a bite to her words, one Riley noticed only came out when someone, namely her, pushed the blonde a little too far. 

“Sorry,” Riley said, and she meant it. “You can do this. Don’t second-guess yourself. Commit.” 

Jill merely nodded, swallowing another piece of cheese. 

Riley wandered off, not wanting to stay with Jill too long. With her back to a wall, she scanned the room in search of Desi and Cage. When she didn’t see them on her first sweep, Riley furrowed her brow. Where the hell were they? 

A bright laugh carried across the room—Cage. There you are, Riley thought. She spied her teammate enjoying the spotlight in the center of a group of models all cooing over Cage’s pale pink dress. It suited Cage, with its billowy sleeves and flowy skirt that hit just below her knees. Cage giggled again, putting her hand on a woman’s shoulder a little too boldly for the gesture to be casual. 

Predictably, Desi wasn’t far away, staring daggers at her shameless flirt of a girlfriend. 

Riley unmuted her comms. “Easy there, Des. It’s just an act.” 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she snapped. Even from a distance, Riley could see Desi’s tight grip on her champagne flute. 

Riley cooed, “So jealous.” 

The woman wrapped a proprietary arm around Cage, clearly welcome to the blonde’s advances, and Cage beamed at her. 

It was enough to push Desi over the edge. “Don’t forget whose bed you’re sleeping in tonight, Samantha,” she snarled. “And I don’t remember agreeing to share.” 

Cage excused herself from the group. “My love, did it ever occur to you that I’m making you jealous on purpose? Because we both know—”

Nikki cut her off, rescuing the team from whatever filthy thing was about to come out of Cage’s mouth. “Don’t be gross, you two.” Riley stifled a laugh. She and Nikki had been subjected to many things they didn’t want to hear over the years. This would hardly faze her now.

Focus. They needed to focus. 

Riley finally spotted the sharp-eyed assistant she noticed at the runway show. Always two steps behind the designer, the young woman obediently trailed him as he floated from group to group. The assistant finished her drink, setting it on the tray of a passing waiter, and strode toward the main hallway in this wing of the museum. 

“I think she’s going to the bathroom,” Jill said. “Do I follow her?” 

Snagging a drink of her own, Riley answered, “No. Bump into her when she comes back.” She watched Jill make her way toward the far side of the gallery, ready to intercept the assistant and steal her keys. 

Everything was going to plan. Jill just had to steal the keys, and then all they had to do was hurry up and wait for the big reveal. Eight o’clock, Riley was told upon arrival. The designer would commence his speech at eight, then reveal his masterpiece to the world. 

Riley checked her watch. Thirty more minutes. 

She knew she’d been standing in this spot for too long already, but Riley was loath to give up the relative safety of having a wall at her back. The twinge of fear she’d felt earlier at the runway show came raging to the surface, rooting her stiletto-clad feet in place. Leaving the wall meant having people in her blind spot. No one’s going to hurt me, Riley promised herself. This is a party, not a prison. 

Her legs felt like lead weights, but Riley forced herself to re-enter the crowd, one agonizing stride at a time. She made it as far as the nearest display case before she had to stop, and her eyes landed on a tiara resting in the center of the display. Countless tiny diamonds formed flowery swoops and swirls, with a handful of emeralds scattered between them, filling what would otherwise be empty spaces. In the center, the diamonds framed a large, round emerald, mimicking the shape of a flower. 

It was exactly what Riley would have stolen had the Five Eyes agreed to rob the Louvre itself, rather than this party. Maybe she’d come back for it, one day. 

Using the case as a pseudo-wall, Riley took a deep breath and re-scanned the room in search of Jill. Unsurprisingly, Jill was exactly where Riley had last seen her.

She kept an eye on the recruit, knowing Desi and Cage were doing the same. Riley was impressed; Jill had quickly figured out how to linger without being obvious she was waiting for something. Jill mindlessly pushed up her glasses—the only visible sign of her nerves—and the movement drew Riley’s attention. 

But not to Jill. 

To another blond head, far behind her. One Riley desperately hoped to never see again. 

“We have a problem,” Desi said. 

“I saw.” 

Nikki’s ex-boyfriend stalked into the gallery, a taller, older man at his heels like a shadow—the same men who chased Riley, Nikki, and Jill through the taco shop a few weeks ago. 

Fuck.

Ducking her head to avoid being spotted, Riley hissed, “Nik, get your ass to the control room and lock the door behind you. We’ve got company.” 

“Already here. Accessing system controls as we speak. Whoever designed the security system in this place should be fired, because this is ridiculously simple. I should’ve left it in French just to keep it interesting.” A pause. "Who's here? Wait. No. Let me guess. Interpol? The mob? That bitchy designer I once robbed point-blank?" 

"Your ex." 

"Oh."

"You didn't tell him about our dream job, did you?" The words came out a little too accusatory, but Riley didn't care. She needed to know. 

"No! Of course I didn't. He— Look, I don't know why he's here, and we can figure that out later. Right now, you need to keep him busy. He's smart, Riles. Maybe even smarter than you. Be careful." 

Riley scoffed. "Smarter than me? We'll see about that." 

"I'm serious, Riley." 

But Riley ignored her, instead giving instructions of her own. "Cage, you watch Jill. Des—" 

"I've got the big one." Classic Desi, never letting her finish a sentence and yet always knowing what she was going to say. The habit was obnoxious at first, but over time Riley learned to appreciate it. "See the bulge on his left side? He keeps touching it." Desi said. "He's armed." 

“He’s what?” Jill exclaimed. 

Chuckling, Desi said, “Now look at my left side. We match.” A small, terrified squeak was the only response. “Well, what did you think I meant when I told you I’m the team’s exfil specialist?” 

“Not that!” 

“And Nik’s ex?” Riley asked, redirecting the conversation. 

“Seems clean.” 

“He is,” Nikki confirmed. “Mac hates guns.” 

“You know,” Riley said, studying the larger of the two men, “The other one kind of looks like a guy who dated my mom once.” 

“Really?” Desi asked. “Think he’s the same guy?” 

Riley took a closer look. He was tall, with broad, muscled shoulders and a buzzed haircut, and considering how often he fidgeted with his tie, he didn’t get dressed up often. He smiled at a passing waitress. He had an open, friendly smile, which totally contrasted with the systematic way he scanned the room. “Nah.”

Jill squawked, “Wait! Are we really still going through with this? Didn’t it just get a whole lot harder?” 

“You say harder, I say more fun,” Cage said. “Just stick to the plan. You’ll be fine.” 

Jill, it seemed, wasn’t so easily reassured. “Am I the only one who sees this is a trap?” 

“It’s only a trap when you don’t know about it. When you do, it’s a challenge,” Riley said. 

“But what if the plan goes wrong? Then what?” 

At the same time, all four women answered, “Improvise.” 

Riley muted her comms as she approached Nikki’s ex; Jill didn’t need the added distraction. Help her, Riley pleaded with the universe. You owe me. 

Pushing her concerns about Jill to the back of her mind, Riley studied her target. There was a champagne flute in the spy’s hand, but he didn’t drink it—not even a sip—and his methodical gaze swept the room, no doubt making note of each guest and who they interacted with. 

He was cute, she had to admit. Definitely Nikki’s type. 

Purposefully not watching where she was going, Riley collided with him, narrowly avoiding sloshing his drink onto her shoes. She pretended to stumble, and his free hand caught her waist, ensuring Riley stayed upright. “Oh! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Pardon me.” 

His hand left her side. Frowning, he asked, “Do I know you?” 

Don’t lie. Evade. Her former mentor taught her that. 

Riley smirked. “I bet you use that line on every beautiful woman you stumble into.” 

“Only when I’m too blown away to say something original.” He winked. 

Maybe this would be easier than Riley anticipated. “Care to wander the museum with me while you practice your next line?” 

“Normally I would, but I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking to start anything new.” 

So much for that plan. 

His honesty, however, was surprising. 

“Not even a little fun?” she goaded, but Nikki’s ex declined once more before excusing himself and vanishing into the crowd. 

At least Desi had better luck keeping the other spy occupied. She had him cornered, her body carefully angled to prevent him from seeing the slight bulge from the gun hidden in her dress. The plunging neckline had two purposes—easy access to the gun holstered at her side while providing a distracting view of her chest and intricate tattoos. It was just enough to snag wandering eyes and keep them focused on the front of her body, rather than the side. To the spy’s credit, his eyes remained pointedly fixed on Desi’s face. 

“Got the keys,” Jill announced. Perfect timing. 

Riley breathed a sigh of relief. “Good work, Blondie.” 

Now, all they had to do was wait.

*****

While the designer yammered some pretentious bullshit about fine jewelry as the centerpiece of fashion and art, Riley slowly pushed her way to the front of the crowd gathering for the reveal. A few feet away, Cage did the same. Across from them—closest to the still-covered jewelry display case—Desi and Jill took their places. None of them were particularly interested by the designer’s speech, but Nikki would be hanging on every word if she were here. 

The designer rambled on, explaining how particular pieces among the French Crown Jewels influenced the designs of his own work. It was awfully arrogant, Riley thought, comparing his own work to such timeless pieces. The longer he spoke, the more Riley disliked him and didn’t feel even an ounce of guilt for robbing him. 

Lingering on the edge of the crowd, Nikki’s ex and his partner seemed content to remain out of the way. For all Riley cared, they could stay there all night. 

The gallery lights flickered once. A few guests glanced up nervously, but the majority remained transfixed on the designer. 

Nikki’s voice crackled through the comms. “Everyone ready? Nod once if you are.” Riley nodded. One by one, so did everyone else. “Alrighty then. Lights out in five…”

Riley counted the number of paces between her and Cage—six. 

“Four…”

Paces from Cage to the jewelry case—eight. 

“Three…”

Paces from the case back to her original position—ten. 

Two…

Closing her eyes, Riley waited. 

“One.” 

Several women shrieked when the lights went out. 

Riley opened her eyes, and before they’d even adjusted to the dark, she strode toward Cage. Six steps. She collided with Cage, dropping her purse on the ground and taking Cage’s identical one, containing replicas of the necklace and earrings. 

Cage shouted that someone stole her purse, causing a scene. She’d chatted and flirted with enough people throughout the night for her voice to be easily recognized, and a murmur broke out among the agitated crowd, creating just enough background noise to cover the sound of Riley’s heels clicking on the floor. 

Eight steps to the back side of the jewelry display. Riley could just make out Jill and Desi unlocking the case with the assistant’s keys. She braced for an alarm to sound, but there was nothing. Atta girl, Nikki. 

Riley opened the purse. Carefully, Desi replaced the real jewels with the fakes, depositing the real ones inside Cage’s purse. 

Jill locked the case and replaced the cover, and Riley returned to her original position among the crowd. The designer and his assistant remained oblivious to what transpired behind them, even as Jill slipped the keys back into the assistant’s dress pocket.

“Lights on in three,” Nikki warned. 

Emergency lights flickered on, casting a harsh white light over the murmuring crowd. A man angrily questioned what happened, followed by a chorus of “Yeah, what he said!”s in a variety of languages. The assistant urged the crowd to remain calm, promising everything would be sorted out shortly. 

Riley looked over her shoulder, searching for Nikki’s ex. He was nowhere to be found. She narrowed her eyes, but with two hundred million dollars worth of jewelry in her hand, Riley decided she didn’t particularly care. 

The woman Cage flirted with the longest stepped forward, picking up the purse Riley had tossed near Cage’s feet. “Isn’t this your purse?” she asked Cage. 

Riley’s teammate feigned embarrassment, gracefully reclaiming the purse. “Yes, that’s it. Thank you.” 

Just as an outraged Cage exclaimed the purse was empty, Riley melted into the dispersing crowd, slowly making her way toward the museum’s exit. That was the plan. She’d leave first, and once she escaped with the jewels, everyone else would exit as well. 

Riley retraced her steps, heels clicking on the hardwood flooring of the museum’s endless long hallways. She didn’t look at any of the art as she passed, not even a single glance. Art had always been more Nikki’s thing than hers. 

Weaving her way back to the exit, Riley prayed Nikki hadn’t missed any of the cameras. She was supposed to loop them all, allowing Riley to leave the museum unseen. But with each additional camera—some obvious, some not—Riley’s anxiety rose. 

Nikki knows what she’s doing, Riley reminded herself. She won’t let anything happen to me. 

Two years ago, that reassurance would’ve been enough. 

Now, her distrusting brain shot back, Are you sure? 

Riley didn’t dignify it with a response. 

Passing the museum’s security checkpoint, Riley smiled at a bored-looking security guard. “Vous partez déjà?” he asked. 

Riley hoped the security guard asked why she was leaving so soon. She never did get around to brushing up on her French. “Oui, I have a flight to catch.” Not a lie, although the flight wouldn’t take off until early tomorrow morning. 

The crisp night breeze prickled Riley’s bare skin. She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs. For the first time that night, Riley finally felt her body start to relax. The vast, empty plaza felt so much safer than the packed gallery. Still not safe enough to let her guard down, but safer. Riley slipped her hand into the purse, fingers closing around an earring. It was surprisingly heavy in her palm. 

Another flawless job. The Five Eyes were back in business. 

She was halfway across the plaza when Nikki started cursing, but Riley didn’t slow. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. The job was done. No turning back now. 

There was a distinct male voice in the background, but Riley couldn’t make out what he said. 

“What do you mean, ‘I had a feeling you’d be here’?” Nikki demanded. “We haven’t spoken in months, Mac, and I know you didn’t track me here on your own.” 

Her ex’s voice was nothing more than a low, indiscernible rumble. 

“What?” Nikki whispered, her voice breaking mid-word. 

As much as Riley wanted to know what he said, she kept walking. But that didn’t stop the others from hissing Nikki’s name, demanding to know what was going on. 

Nikki yelped, and then the male voice purred, loud and clear, “I know you’re listening, Riley. Why don’t we go on that little walk now?” 

With a cold laugh, Riley said, “In your fucking dreams.” How did he know her name? As far as she knew, Nikki never mentioned her. 

Still, she kept walking. Everyone is responsible for their own exit. No matter what. 

Riley muted her comms, and Nikki’s piercing shriek filled her ear. A muffled grunt followed.

Then nothing. 

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay. 

“Riley, you need to come back,” Jill pleaded. “Nikki needs help.” 

She didn’t answer, clenching her jaw with the effort to keep silent. An airplane flew overhead, and Riley tracked its path across the sky. Every step brought Riley closer to her own flight home—and the freedom that entailed. Turning around now would only put that in jeopardy. 

But every step also took her away from her best friend. The woman she once believed she’d do anything for. 

Jill was overreacting, Riley reasoned. Nikki was more than capable of getting herself out of a bind. Riley lost track of the number of impossible situations she and Nikki had found themselves in over the years, and they always found a way to escape. 

“Sam is getting Jill out,” Desi said, slightly out of breath. “Riles, I don’t think I can get Nikki out on my own. Jill is right. You need to come back.” 

Riley faltered. If Desi thought there was a problem, then something must’ve gone really, really wrong. 

Maybe Jill wasn’t overreacting after all. 

“Des—” Cage started. “They opened the case.” 

“So?” 

“They know the jewels are fake. If Riley comes back, it won’t just be Nikki going to prison.” 

Prison. 

Riley didn’t think she was breathing. Heart thudding wildly, her stomach tied itself into knots, and her clothes became damp with sweat. The sense of safety she’d felt earlier was gone, and Riley fought the urge to run. Every little noise—traffic, pedestrian chatter, a siren in the distance—was coming for her, ready to drag her into some dark hole she’d never emerge from. 

Nothing was logical anymore, like the part of her brain capable of rational thought had gone to sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to wake up, but it was no use. 

Run, while you still have the chance, her body screamed. 

Everyone is responsible for their own exit, her brain repeated. 

She needed to turn around. Nikki couldn’t go to prison. 

Two years ago, Riley had gone to prison in Nikki’s stead. She let herself be arrested to protect her friends. Her family. 

If Nikki went to prison now, then Riley’s sacrifice would be in vain. 

But Riley’s body refused to turn around. Her worst memories from prison flashed before her eyes—ones Riley desperately wanted to forget—like a cougar crouching in the shadows, waiting for the exact moment she was at her weakest to pounce. 

She couldn’t go back there. She couldn’t go through that again. 

She wouldn’t survive it twice. 

“Riles,” Nikki pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Where are you?” 

Run, that voice in her head said. Don’t look back. 

Her steps were slower now, less sure. But Riley didn’t stop. She couldn’t. 

“I need you.” 

Save yourself, girl. 

“I’m sorry,” Riley whispered, but her comms were still muted. With a shaking hand, Riley unmuted them one last time. 

It’s better this way, the voice promised. You’ll see. 

It was all too easy to slip into the brutal, emotionless persona she’d built while in prison, the process having become instinct. It was necessary then, to keep her safe and alive. Now, it did the same, preventing Riley from making a mistake every cell in her body knew she wouldn’t come back from. 

In a cold, unflinching voice, Riley said, “Everyone is responsible for their own exit.” 

She threw her earpiece into a nearby fountain, and the click of her stilettos echoed in the night. 

~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask.

@macrileyedits / @hellishrose / @losingitovermacriley​ / @mylifequotesshowallofthem / @thecarrieonokay / @holbytlanna​ /

[thebisexualdogdad]

Teen Wolf the Camp Half Blood AU

Co written with @inhumanshadows

The kids and their parents:

Scott - Poseidon

Allison - Artemis 

Stiles - Hermes

Derek - Ares

Lydia - Aphrodite

Kira - Athena

Danny - Apollo

Malia - Demeter

Isaac - Apollo

Brett - Dionysus

Theo - Hades

Liam - Hephaestus

Jackson - Aphrodite

Aidan - Ares

Ethan - Ares

Jordan - Hephaestus

Hayden - Demeter

Mason - Dionysus

Corey - Hermes

· So Stiles and Hermes kids love to fuck with the Artemis and Ares kids while they are training

· Alison is the only hunter that doesn't travel with the goddess

· The Hermes kids will lay paint grenades and wait for the ensuing carnage.

· Stiles also is like a third Stoll sibling

· Derek is the one who saves Stiles' ass from getting kicked

· Derek stops his siblings from attacking Stiles like every other week

· Brett and Mason throw the best parties every Friday night

· And it's the only place all the cabins truly get along

· Those parties defy expectations in that alcohol isn't a big part of why everyone gets along

· It's just everyone hanging out and relaxing

· And it's the best place for everyone to hang out with their significant others

· Those who are dating are seated next to their S/Os or dancing

· And those who are crushing on each other are being set up by their friends or desperately trying to make a move

· Hayden is trying to get Malia to just go talk to kira

· Scott is asking Percy advice about talking to Isaac and it's going swimmingly

· pun intended

· Malia finally kisses Kira when they are dancing together and Hayden "accidently" bumps Malia closer to her

· Malia is furiously apologizing when Kira kisses her to stop her rambling

· And everyone at the party is like finally! 

· Being from Aphrodite Lydia is embodies love and is the most romantic girlfriend

· Lydia and Alison are talking about their favorite things about camp

· Stiles is sitting in Derek's lap making out.

· And nobody knows where Danny or Aidan are cause they snuck off to fool around in the woods

· "They'll be fine" is the general consensus around the party.

· Corey and Mason are cuddled together, enjoying the stars

· And Theo is basically grinding on Liam on the dancefloor

· There is not a cabin on site that Stiles and the Hermes kids have not annoyed the shit out of

· Nope. And Stiles doesn't care that it could cause a prank war.

· Scott likes to sit at the bottom of the lake by cabin 3 to think and get away from it all. · Isaac has been looking for him and just stands on the pier "I can't breathe underwater..."

· "Just float with me then" 

· And they float on their backs, holding hands, looking up at the cloudy skin

· They lay there for what feels like an hour and then go into the cabin to lay together. Thankfully Scott's powers make drying off easy as hell

· Theo and Liam are the chaotic boyfriends, they are getting into trouble all. the. time.

· They're basically always on cleanup duty after dinner

· And they are always sneaking out after curfew

· Usually to steal food from the kitchen

· And they always get caught by the furies that patrol the camp after curfew

· Danny and Aidan are the athletic couple they are always working out together

· They make it a competition every time

· Meanwhile Stiles is in the background eating chips like "i wonder what it's like to be in shape"

· Derek snags the bag out of his hands. "well time to stop wondering and start doing

· Stiles is whining but Derek makes him go on a run with him

· "This is torture! You're trying to kill me! You're a horrible boyfriend!"

· "No I'm making sure you don't have a heart attack from all the junk food."

· Derek assures him that they'll start small

· Stiles agrees to be a little healthier but Scott still sneaks him snacks when Derek's not looking

· Derek knows. He talks to Isaac about it.

· "Idky they're sneaking around. I never said that Stiles had to cut out junk food completely."

· Isaac: "Simple... our boyfriends think different"

· "They share one brain cell and currently neither one of them has it"

· "exactly. But if it gets stiles to be a bit healthier... it's a step in the right direction"

· Meanwhile Jordan is busy forging a new collapsible spear

· Which Stiles takes from his cabin and is messing around with it and accidentally spears his foot

· Everyone hears the scream and the Stolls carry Stiles to Danny

· Danny heals Stiles while Derek is scolding him for being so dumb

· "In my defense... I was left unsupervised"

· Parrish is like "with my spear which you stole!"

· Stiles "oh calm down worry wart you can make another one'

· Parrish is inspecting the weapon. "You aren't getting out of this that easy

· Jordan makes Stiles clean out the entire Hephaestus cabin 

· Stiles is like what's the big deal and then immediately regrets everything when he sees all the dirt and rust

· Jordan pats stiles on the back. “Here’s the instructions and supplies. Good luck. I’ll check on you in two hours.”

· When Jordan does come back Stiles is sitting on an upside bucket eating donuts 

· "Stiles!" 

· "What! I need energy!"

· “You haven’t cleaned a thing!”

· "Look at that corner it's spotless!" 

· "There's a spiderweb Stiles" 

· "That's mister webs home I'm not destroying his hard work!"

· Jordan is not happy.  · “I’ll be back.” He leaves and brings Derek back. “Here mave you can get him to do it

· "Stiles, if you don't clean this cabin we will be doing 5 laps around the lake" 

· "What?? That's insane!" 

· "Babe the Ares kid doing 10 before breakfast"

· “Exactly the Ares kids! They’re like their own military.”

· “Come on Stiles. There’s a lot to go...”

· "Ugh fine. But I'm having an entire pizza when I'm done"

· “We’ll see...”

· Meanwhile Thiam are fooling around in the showers

· As they always do though with Theo being in Hades there's absolutely no rules about coercing with other campers so they always have a place to fool around in his cabin

· Nico is typically off with his boyfriend so the place is empty and even then. Theo had Jordan install soundproofing

· Lydia often kicks Jackson and the other Aphrodite kids out so she can have alone time with Allison

· Some think Lydia is pushy but Jackson knows to listen to her

· Allison, Lydia, Malia,Kira, and Hayden also have girls night in the Aphrodite cabin

· Makeovers, spa days, general destressing. While the boys are jumping from the roof of cabin 3 to the lake

· And they have water guns which Scott doesn't need and he just makes full on waves crash on people

· Someone inevitably loses his shorts

· It's usually Danny which no one complains about

· If it’s someone else no one complains either

· Everybody is gay and just horny teenagers

· Malia often takes Kira for strolls through the woods and points out every kind of flower

· Malia makes the best flower crowns

· She makes Hayden wear one too whenever she gets pouty 

· "Turn that frown upside down little sister"

· Hayden is like whenever you ask a kid “is that a smile?” And like 5 seconds later they are smiling and laughing

· Hayden would never admit but she really likes having Malia as a sister

· She loves her sister. And she wouldn’t change it

[peonybane]

That Look

Pairing: Jackson (GOT7) x Reader

Word Count: 6.5 k

Genre: idol!verse, technically post-idol!verse, Smut... fluff if you squint.

Summary: Having a family, that was a dream you and Jackson shared. But life said this wasn’t the right time. But even so, that didn’t mean the two of you couldn’t play with the idea of starting one. Or you, know, get in some practice.

Warnings: rough sex, female receiving oral, dom!Jackson, sub!Reader, edging/orgasm denial, dirty talk, impreg kink, overstimulation, praise kink?, I think that’s it.

A/N: This is my first, what I’ll consider, hard smut. I really want to thank the platonic love of my life, @ropeseok​ for helping me develop this. Also, please look forward to her accompanying piece, That Feeling.

That Feeling by @ropeseok​ Coming Soon!

He was doing it again. He was gonna get in trouble. Your fiancé, Jackson, kept glancing at you while he was filming. You accidentally made eye contact with Jinyoung (who was sitting haphazardly next to your fiancé), looking to him pleadingly to get Jackson’s attention back to the task at hand. You didn’t want him to get in trouble again today with the PD. Today’s PD was know to have a temper and Jackson had already incurred her wrath a couple of times already. 

Jinyoung nudged his friend, getting him to focus on the host. 

Thank god.

They were preparing for a comeback, the pre-recording for one of those idol reality game shows in progress. In the week preceding comebacks and tours, you’d try using your holidays so you could spend time with Jackson and support him… especially since you won’t be seeing much of him in person otherwise. 

You could barely contain the sigh that left your lips at the thought of him returning to the apartment at 2, 3, sometimes 4 in the morning, and he’d still be asleep by the time you left for work. As much as you’d want to kiss him good morning or hear his tired, rough voice bidding you a good day at work and telling you how much he loved when he was barely conscious, you let him sleep. Knowing just how badly he’d need it. And never mind sex— it was only ever a quickie on the off chance that he’d somehow managed timing coming back to the apartment for something with when you got off from work. It worked in a pinch but it was nowhere near as satisfying as the long drawn out sessions you and Jackson usually had.

It wasn’t often, but on occasion, Jackson insisted upon taking you with him to filming locations. Today, he wanted you with so the two of you could go on a date immediately after— this being one of the few nights in the past three months he didn’t have practice. 

You watched as Jackson goofed off with BamBam as they did something the host asked. Your throat went dry for a moment as you watched the material of Jackson’s pants tighten and loosen depending on how he moved. God… why did his thighs and ass look so nice in those pants?

“Unnie?”

Sooyun grabbed your attention again. No more than four years old, she was quite a bit smaller than you’d expect for a girl her age, sitting comfortably in your lap. “Yes, Soo-ah?”

She held up her doll to you. Sooyun had somehow managed to get the doll tangled up in the dress she was putting on it. “Yunhee stuck.”

You smiled down at her, taking the doll from her. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

As you helped Sooyun with her doll and continued to play with her quietly, just sitting a little behind the rest of the filming staff, you could feel Jackson’s gaze still on you. Occasionally, you’d meet his eye. His gaze was soft and adoring… for now, at least. You were glad that he was semi-distracted right now with work: his thoughts mustn’t drift right now.

After some time, they called break, letting everyone get a drink, touch up the make up; the usual. As Jackson immediately headed for you, Sooyun’s mother, Chunhei, joined you two. “Thank you so much for doing this. I’m so sorry about this.”

Sooyun was already making grabby hands for Chunhei, obviously having missed her while she worked. “It was no problem at all. I loved spending time with her.”

Her mother picked her up, kissing her forehead. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m going to get her something to eat real quick while we’re on break.”

“Of course, Chunhei-ssi. I’ll see you soon, Sooyun-ah.”

You waved at the little girl and she waved back shyly before her mother took her to be fed. She was so freaking cute!

You jumped in surprise as a pair of familiar arms wrapped around your waist, a chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Why are you so cute?”

You chuckled, putting your hands on top of Jackson’s, squeezing. “You sure it was me and not Sooyun you found cute?”

Jackson kissed your cheek. “Oh, you’re both so adorable.”

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing heavily against your neck. You couldn’t help but blush as his hands started rubbing at your lower belly, almost absentmindedly. “But… there is just something about you that’s impossibly beautiful when you’re being a ‘mother.’”

You didn’t trust your voice. He wasn’t touching you sexually, but it was definitely… intimate. The longer you were with Jackson, the more you wanted a family with him. Little comments like that didn’t help with that desire. 

“PG, Jackson. Remember: PG,” Mark said as he walked past the two of you, returning from his bathroom break. You blushed all the way to your ears. You had gotten used to how affectionate Jackson was. But being called out about it… hmmm, not so much.

Jackson removed his face from your neck, addressing his elder. “Don’t be like that. You’re just jealous my fiancé is here and your girlfriend isn’t.”

Mark just shot him a pointed look as the PD announced that break was over. Jackson sighed, definitely not wanting to let you go as he rested his head against yours. You gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. “It’s just a couple of more hours, Seunie. No more work for the rest of the day.”

Jackson kissed the crown of your head. “You’re right. The sooner we get done, the sooner we can get out of here.”

You smiled at him and he returned the smile before giving you one last squeeze, his body heat leaving yours for the filming area. Biting your bottom lip, your fingers traced where his hands had been, the ghost of his touch still there. 

It was times like these, even when he was just teasing, you were tempted to give in. To see about having the implant in your arm removed. To try to start a family together, even though you both had promised that that part of your lives would begin only once this hectic and stressful part was beginning to ebb. When the news of him getting married, never mind having a kid, wouldn’t have as big of an impact on your lives as when you were forced into making your relationship public.

No… that part would have to wait. 

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t fantasize. 

You turned towards the filming area when you heard your name being called. Sooyun was running towards you as quickly as she could, carrying the lunch box her mother obviously packed for her, Chunhei following behind. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, though. You could feel someone watching you.

As cute as Sooyun was, your attention was grabbed by the heavy and almost… predatory gaze Jackson watched you with. Your heart skipped a beat and your pussy clenched. You knew that look. 

He always looked at you with adoration. Sometimes, his gaze was hungry, especially when he was getting rough in bed. But this… this gaze meant something else. It meant that you better mentally prepare to not getting any sort of rest tonight… and not being able to leave the bed tomorrow without help. He didn’t look at you often like this… always wanting to keep that in check. He never wanted to pressure you. Never wanted to accidentally hurt you. 

But sometimes, he couldn’t help it. And you were more than willing to indulge in that one kink he always tried to keep hidden away.

So… what set him off?

He didn’t see you touching your lower stomach… did he? If he did… you knew you were in for it later. You could barely look him in the eye as he stared at you, your insides getting warm from the weight of his stare… and the anticipation.

You sat down again, Sooyun sitting in your lap as filming resumed. She was a lot calmer, probably starting to feel sleepy after getting some food into her. As you sat there, cradling her, you’d occasionally look up.

Jackson was now seated, currently not looking at you, having to act at least semi-interested in whatever game they were playing now. But you knew. You knew his mind was somewhere else.

His legs were crossed, one knee right over the other, his hands clasping his top knee. You knew he was trying to hide his boner or will it away if the tightness of his slacks around his hips was anything to go by. His jawed was clenched hard, his lips drawn into a thin line, his brow tense.

Upon first inspection, you would have thought he was just deep in thought. But the way he ground his teeth in frustrations— no, you knew.

You weren’t sure if his bandmates could sense his change in mood or if they were just that good, but they seemed to do everything they could to keep the hosts’ attention on them, with BamBam and Yugyeom, the chaos twins, taking center stage, in particular.

Jackson turned his gaze back on you. You shuddered. Perhaps to anyone else, he looked pissed. But you knew that look: he was frustrated. 

Extremely frustrated. 

He was trapped in his head, fantasizing. He couldn’t escape it. He couldn’t escape this place quite yet. 

He clenched his jaw once more before turning his gaze away from you. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself a little. 

You were sure you’ve never seen him this frustrated before.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

“… Thank you once again for joining us and GOT7!”

As soon as the host said the closingment, the PD called cut. Jackson was already up and taking off his mic and name tag. While everyone else was taking their time, Jackson was trying to get going as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. You knew you needed to be quick as well. Standing up, Sooyun sleeping in your arms, you went looking for Chunhei to pass her back. As you found her, Jackson took up the space behind you, his body heat making you hyper-aware of his presence.

You passed off Sooyun to her mother, the little girl barely stirring. “Come here, monkey. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

You smiled at Chunhei as you stroked Sooyun’s bangs from her face. “She was no problem at all. Just a little joy.”

From behind you, Jackson was silent. But… you could practically feel the frustration roll off of him in waves. Chunhei asked, “You guys going to join us all for dinner?”

Just as you were about to reply, Jackson spoke first, lacing his fingers with your own, his hand practically engulfing your own. “We would love to, but unfortunately, I made a reservation for us at a restaurant. It’s date night, ya know?”

You glanced up at him. He seemed back to being his usual friendly self. But you knew better. Not if the tension in his neck was anything to go by. 

Chunhei looked at you both surprised. Jackson always enjoyed going out for dinner with everyone. “Oh! Well… have a good dinner then and it was good working with you, again.”

She and Jackson exchanged a couple of work pleasantries before he tugged on your hand to leave. His pace quicker than usual, almost forcing you to jog behind him as he led you to the parking garage in silence. 

He withdrew his keys from his pocket, unlocking his car. He opened your door for you and you quickly got in. As he went over to his side of the vehicle, you couldn’t help but smirk a little to yourself. Even frustrated, he still treated you, as he put it, his Queen. 

Jackson settled into the driver’s seat. He let out a deep sigh as he let his head fall back to the headrest. Your eyes fell to his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, his eyes falling closed. You jumped slightly at the low, commanding tone of his voice, leaving no room for argument. 

“Panties. Off. Now.”

You shuddered as he all but growled out the end of his sentence. You threw your purse into the backseat of his car as you shimmied your panties out from underneath your skirt. Your hands trembled as you picked them up, cringing, already being able to tell that they’re soaked. Before you could do anything with them, Jackson took them and stuffed them into the pocket of his pants. No chance now of putting them back on. 

Commando it was.

“Buckle up.”

His tone was cold, but strained. You buckled yourself in as Jackson did the same and put on his driving glasses before backing out of the parking space. 

Why? Why did looking at him like this, turn you on so much? 

He probably felt your heated gaze on him because, almost deliberately, he licked his lower lip as he continued to drive out of the parking garage with one hand. It was almost as if he knew exactly what to do to get a rise out of you.

The car was silent except for the sound of the engine as he drove. You gazed out the window, the city becoming a blur as you tried to settle down, hyperaware of the fact that you were currently going commando. You jumped in surprise, gaze snapping back to Jackson as he teasingly stroked your bare knee with the tips of his fingers, your modest knee length skirt having ridden up a bit when you slipped off your panties. 

His gaze was still on still on the road, but nonetheless, he teasing traced patterns across your skin. Some were nonsensical. Others… others were more deliberate. Korean, Cantonese, English— he drew words from each language into your skin. 

Words that told you his intentions: ‘fuck,’ ‘bed,’ ‘love.’ 

So many words, each gentle touch driving you crazy. You swallowed, hyperaware of the heat that was building up inside you… all just from the teasing graze of his fingertip.

This was torture. But, oh so wonderful torture. You knew you could ask him to stop. He would. No matter how frustrated he was. 

But you didn’t want him to stop. 

No… you wanted his fingers higher. You wanted them to dig into your thigh like they always did when his lips would ghost over your core, the little shit teasing you. Starting to get frustrated yourself, you squirmed around in your seat, trying to getting some relief— whether it be the friction from the car seat or the mental distraction— you didn’t care.

A sharp, but barely there slap to the inside of your thigh put a stop to your squirming straight away, making you jump a bit in your seat. You glanced over at Jackson. His eyes were still on the road but his jaw was set tight as he let out a deep exhale through his nose. Instead of returning to tracing patterns into your skin, his hand found purchase on the inside your thigh, massaging it, almost like he was trying to physically vent his frustration. It made you whimper. In turn he let out a frustrated growl.

“You know how to rile me up, don’t you? Did you think I wouldn’t see you touching your lower stomach? The look in your eye? Fuck— God… I want to get you pregnant so bad.”

You didn’t reply. You couldn’t. You didn’t trust your voice. You didn’t trust yourself not to beg him to just pull over and pull you into the backseat.

Thank god the filming location wasn’t too far from your apartment. You weren’t sure if the two of you could wait too much longer. As soon as Jackson pulled into his designated parking spot in the garage, he turned off the vehicle and didn’t even bother taking off his glasses. You scrambled to get out just as quickly, almost forgetting your purse in the back as Jackson came around and opened the door for you.

Jackson grabbed your hand and pulled you along behind him towards the apartment complex. Down the hall, you followed him, legs all ready feeling shaky from excitement. He pulled you into the elevator and pressed the button for the floor you lived on. He let go of your hand as the doors began their slow close and the carriage began its even slower ascent.

He didn’t touch you. He refused to look at you. Even if he wouldn’t look at you, you were transfixed. His hair was messy now, no longer handsomely slicked back. He was breathing heavily through his nose, his eyes closed as he took off his glasses, placing them in the breast pocket of his jacket. At his sides, he reflexively clenched his hands— he was barely holding it together and it made you all the wetter.

The moment the elevator dinged for your floor and the doors opened, Jackson grabbed your hand again and practically raced you down the hall towards your apartment. In almost a blur, he typed in the passcode for your apartment and pushed the door open. You barely had time to process it all.

As soon as he pulled you inside, you heard the harsh slam of the door first. Then the air was knocked from your lungs as he pushed you back against it, your purse dropping to the ground.

You felt him before you saw him. Your skirt was flipped up and Jackson was already on his knees in front of you; he mouthed your mound, leaving open mouth kisses and nips just above where you really wanted him, making your gasp. Instantly, you grabbed his hair for purchase as you looked down. His eyes were dangerously dark, his hair messy in your grasp as he shucked off his jacket.

As soon as his jacket was off, his hands came up and grasped your ass, squeezing and massaging, drawing a pathetic, airy whimper from your lips. He grinned against you as he moved his arm back down and around your hip, grabbing your thigh to prop it onto his shoulder. Your throat ran dry and your heart thundered in your chest. 

He was going to be the end of you.

Slowly, he pulled his mouth away from your mound, leaving you wanting once more. He looked up at you, staring right into your soul as he growled, “Eyes on me. And listen closely.”

Weakly, you nodded. God you were so turned on. You were sure he could barely touch you and it be enough. Using his other hand, he spread your pussy lips. The sight before him was too much— he cursed harshly under his breath.

“Fuck! You’re so fucking wet. Did you like that? Did you like teasing me? Did the thought of me fucking you pregnant turn you on that much?”

You knew he wouldn’t be satisfied if you didn’t answer, but your mind was barely there enough to really produce anything. Frustrated by your lack of response, he growled, biting your thigh. You mewled in surprise. It wasn’t hard enough to actually hurt you, but it was enough to make you arch your back… and you’d probably have a pretty violet bruise there tomorrow. You clenched at the thought.

“Y-Yes! Fuck!” You let your head hit the door behind you. “Yes, I want you to fuck me pregnant!”

He let out a deep appreciative groan. You looked down past his face when his body swayed a little— he couldn’t help but rut his hips, the hard on in his pants looking painful. Jackson swallowed. “Be a good girl. I’m going to eat your pussy. But you’re not allowed to cum—“ 

You whimpered pathetically at his words. But you needed to cum so fucking bad. 

He smirked. “Shhhhh. Not yet. You’ll get to cum. But not until I’ve got you overflowing with my cum.”

Your pussy clenched at the thought.

Jackson smirked before pressing his mouth against you again. This time instead of coming to your mound teasingly, his tongue, flat and pliant, covered your exposed clit, making you cry out. 

You weren’t prepared.

Jacksom had always been a little shit of tease, never going in for the kill quite so quickly. But this was a man on a mission. A mission to ruin you.

One hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle your cries as Jackson licked your clit. You let your head fall back, eyes falling closed. Almost immediately, Jackson abandoned his licking for enclosing his lips around your clit, sucking and pulling at it. A silent scream fell from your lips, the feeling more intense than it should be. You looked down at him once again and he pulled off your clit with an almost audible pop, making you shudder. 

“I said eyes on me. I want you to watch me as I get your pussy swollen and throbbing for my cock.”

Before you could choke out a half-baked reply, he pressed his face back against you. He alternated between suckling your clit, making you keen, and pressing the flat of his tongue against you, using his whole face to tease your pussy, making you whimper and pant.

Jackson knew what he was doing. The alternating kept you on your toes— kept you high on endorphins— but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to make you cum. 

Your legs began to tremble. The distraction of trying to keep yourself up, balancing yourself on mostly one leg certainly kept you distracted enough.

“Ja-Jackson….” 

His name trailed off into a moan as you slowly slide down the door, your leg barely able to hold you up any longer. In turn, Jackson lightened up on his torture, going back to mouthing at your mound, moving along with you until you were safely on the floor. He gave your mound a playful nip before pulling away. 

You whimpered, still slightly shaking as you watched him stand up. On one hand, you were nowhere near orgasm, but on the other hand… you almost felt overstimulated as you tried to get back your wits. Jackson looked down at you, panting. He still had that dark, dangerous look in his eye, but there was more control now. 

He offered his hand and you took it. He pulled you back onto your feet, pushing you back against the door and immediately pressed his mouth to yours, all but devouring you— nipping, sucking, teasing— he was overwhelmingly everywhere. Still shaking, you kissed back, trying to regain some semblance of control by nipping at his lower lip, your hands fisted in his shirt. Jackson growled against you, pinning your hips back against the door as he yanked your skirt down. 

Shuddering, you kicked your sandals off as his mouth left yours, kissing a hot fiery trail down from your jawline to your neck, making your let out an airy moan. He pulled away from your skin just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, then he was back at it again, this time sucking and nibbling at all the places that make you keen. “F-Fuck— Jackson—“

He moans happily against your skin as you fumbled with the buttons of his shirt before he grabbed your wrists, pinning them over your head. You whined in frustration and struggled a little, very upset that he disrupted your mission in getting him naked. He chuckled against your skin. 

Reaching behind you with his free hand, he unclasp your bra. He let it hang from your shoulders, knowing that it would eventually fall away naturally.

Jackson looked you over. His jaw was set tight, his brow tense as his gaze drank you in. You flushed, looking away from him shyly, feeling extremely embarrassed by not only his stare, but the stark contrast between your states of dress.

He let go of your wrists and slowly pulled the straps of your bra down your arms. You breathed heavily as you finally looked back up at him. His gaze was unreadable. It was just dark and depthless. You were so mesmerized that you almost missed him whispering, “So beautiful… I can’t believe….”

“Can’t believe what?”

His eyes burned into you, Jackson leaned into you, trapping you against the door and his body, his forearms against the door, caging you in. You grabbed at his shirt as his lips skimmed the outline of your ear. He huskily whispered, “I can’t believe you’re mine, lǎo pó.”

You shuddered at the nickname, whining in need again. Jackson nuzzled your neck, you could feel his smirk against your skin as he growled, “And soon you’re going to be pregnant with my baby and everyone will know that you’re mine and I’m all yours.”

You stopped breathing, your heart fluttering and your pussy clenching. Honestly, you couldn’t tell which you felt more, the utter love and devotion he had for you, or just how much hornier his words made you. Moaning his name, you tugged at his shirt, all but begging him to just fuck you already.

Slipping his hands down from the wall, reached down and hoisted you over his shoulder, making you squeal in surprise, grabbing his ass (you swear, you were going for his shirt… it’s just, his ass was a bit more… solid) as a means of support.  In retaliation, Jackson nipped at your bottom, making you squeak in delight as he carried you towards you room.

Once in your room, Jackson smacked your ass, making it jiggle and you gasped before he tossed you down on the bed. Slightly dazed, you looked up at him as he kicked off his shoes, somehow in his lust filled haze remembering your rule about shoes. 

He growled out, “On your hands and knees, now.”

Scrambling, you turned over, your limbs shaking as you presented your ass as high as you could, pressing the side of your face into the bed, your eyes landing on Jackson’s nightstand. In the back of your mind, a bubble of a thought took form in that even though you were on birth control, Jackson still used condoms typically, especially after that one little scare in which you missed two periods in a row. You wondered just how out of it he was to go grab one.

A rush of excitement shot through you at the sound of him undoing his belt, and the metal hitting the floor as he dropped it. Your breath caught in your throat as you heard him unzipping his pants. The bed squeaked a little under his weight as he got on the bed behind you. You let out a pathetic whine as he grabbed your hips, roughly pulling you back against him, his underwear covered cocked grinding right up against your sopping pussy and the teeth of his zipper nipping at the delicate underside of your thighs.

Jackson let a string of curses as you pressed back further into him. You buried your face in Jackson’s pillow as you practically sobbed out, “Please! Jackson! Please, fuck me already. Breed me! I want your cum so badly.”

He didn’t say anything. 

Instead, he let out a frustrated growl as he pulled back enough to shove his underwear down enough to let his cock free. In a single breath, he went from teasing your entrances with hot tip of his cock to being fully sheathed inside of you, your pussy convulsing in response. You let out a high pitch whine, the suddenly feeling of being full almost too much. He always filled you just right.

Jackson stilled above you, pressing his shirt clad chest against your bare back, his mouth against your shoulder as he panted raggedly. “Fuck— you’re going to be the end of me, little girl.”

You couldn’t help but let out an airy chuckle, grinding back against him, making him moan. “Likewise.”

Jackson grabbed your hips, making you go still. “You’re playing with fire, yeobo.”

Whimpering in frustration, you wiggled against his hold. You looked over your shoulder at him, staring him down with pleading eyes. “Ka-Yee… I want your baby. I want it so badly. Please….”

With one shaky hand, you reached back, tugging on his pants, almost trying to force him further inside. At this point, you were beyond desperate for him to fuck you. You trembled, forcing out a shaky voice as tears started to well up in your eyes. You whispered, just enough for him to hear you, “Please, please, please, fuck your baby into me.”

You felt him throb harshly against your g-spot before he wrapped his arms around your middle, keeping your torso pressed firmly as against his own as let out a frustrated, airy moan, pulling back so the two of you were balanced on your knees. Your hands flew to his arms, clawing at his as you whimpered. He nipped at your ear lobe, roughly whispering, “Careful what you wish for.”

His hips snapped harshly against your ass, your skin clapping loudly against each other, making you cry out. 

Yes! This was what you wanted— it’s been too long since you felt his bare cock teasing your g-spot as his quick pace almost made your pussy burn from the sudden and intense stretch. You cried out, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you clawed at his arms, trying to ground yourself. Jackson let out a loud groan, practically rivaling your own sounds when one hand reached up to tug at his hair, the other clawing at his hand as it snaked down to cup your pussy as he fucked you roughly.

Jackson’s voice was increasingly becoming higher and whinier, his thrusts becoming sloppier. He pressed his face into your neck, letting out a strangled moan as you clenched around him in excitement, the palm of one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, while the other grabbed at your breast. “Hnnnng— no— don’t— don’t wanna cum yet.”

You shuddered, crying out, “Please, please— paint my walls white. J-Jackson, f-fuck me pregnant. I need it!”

Jackson cried out, giving you one last hard thrust— the force of it, knowing you two over. He broke your fall, letting go of your breast, but you didn’t care. You were a shuddering, whimpering mess as you felt his cock violently twitch inside you as he came… hard.

He breathed harshly through his teeth as you panted. He just kept cumming— you had never felt him cum so hard or for so long before. The hand pressed against your clit angled your hips up, as if he was trying to keep his cum from escaping you as you stroked your hand through his hair. 

Panting harshly, he mouth at your shoulder, coming down from his high. He reached above your head on the bed, grabbing his pillow before shoving it up under your pelvis. He whispered huskily against your ear, “Such a good girl for me— not cumming yet. And now good girls get rewarded for behaving so well.”

You shuddered at his words. Jackson pulled back enough, but entirely withdrawing from your body. He first turned you over on your side then onto your back. It took a moment, but your eyes began to refocus as you gazed up at Jackson. His gaze was hazy, completely fucked out as he stared back down at you. His hair was wild, completely mussied up from your grabbing, some of it sticking to his forehead, completely soaked in sweat.

He pulled a high pitched whine from you as he gave you a thrust. In turn, he let out a hiss, overstimulated. Jackson practically tore his shirt off, throwing it across the room before he dropped down, caging your face between his forearms. He stared deeply into your eyes as he adjusted his hips, wincing at the almost painful feeling of overstimulation.

Jackson pressed his pelvis against yours, firmly trapping your clit between your bodies as he began thrusting again. You cried out, not expecting the intensity from such a small movement. He ran one hand through your hair, tugging at the root, making you whine before he dove in, kissing you like a man starved.

You felt overwhelmed, nails digging into his shoulders as he sucked and nipped at your tongue, his pelvis grinding hard against yours, you clit becoming even more sensitive and swollen. Jackson mouthed at your neck and chest, sucking and biting all over your breasts, commenting about how swollen they’d be or something of that matter. Your mind was too filled with the feeling of him grinding away at your clit like a mortar and pestle to hear anything. 

Jackson kissed his way back up your chest as he shifted his hips a bit, making you scream at the feeling of both your clit and your g-spot now being deliciously tortured. Your hips twitched on their own, practically trying to run away from the stimulation as Jackson swallowed up your screams. Between kisses, you whimpered out, “J-Jackson— close….”

Staring deeply into your eyes, he grabbed one of your thighs, hoisting it over his shoulder as he continued to roughly grind against you. He let out a strained whine, you pussy clenching around his semi-hard member. 

His voice was hoarse as he whispered against your lips, “I know, lǎo pó, I know. Cum for me, I want to feel your pussy spasming as it swallows all of my cum. I want you nice and pregnant by the time I’m done with you.”

His words set you off. Everything inside you that strained and clenched letting go all at once. You let out a silent wail as your orgasm tore through you. It was intense and felt never-ending. You couldn’t breathe as the tidal wave of pleasure took you away. Jackson cupped your face, kissing the underside of your jaw as he continued to grind against your clit, prolonging the feeling.

As it ebbed away, your body slowly relaxing, Jackson placed butterfly kisses all over your face as he eased out of you. You mewled happily. 

You sweet, post orgasm euphoria didn’t last long though… not with how Jackson laid down on the bed next to you as he began rubbing your clit in gentle, slow circles. You gasped, back arching and you immediately reached for his wrist.

As you whimpered out his name, Jackson nipped at your jawline, rubbing your clit a little faster. “Such a good girl for me. You like being filled with my cum, huh?”

You let out a weak noise of affirmation, making him smile down at you. “Of course you do.”  He glanced down at your pussy, biting his lower lip, groaning. “Look at that, your pussy is still clenching. Such a good girl, keeping all of my cum inside to get pregnant.”

Letting out a small cry as he started to rub your clit more vigorously, you looked at him pleadingly. What you wanted, you weren’t sure— did you want him to stop? Or did you want him to make you cum again? 

“J-Jackson—“

He leaned up and kissed you, it was rather sweet— intimate— compare to the ways he was rubbing your clit. “One more, yeobo. Give me one more. I know you can.”

You keened as he slipped two long fingers into you, immediately seeking out your g-spot. You pawed at his chest, moaning and whining as he croaked his fingers, still thrusting into you. Your orgasm was building again as the heel of his palm smacked your clit while his fingers teased at the spongy material within you. Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as you squirmed around, unable to escape. 

Jackson hooked his thigh over yours, practically pinning your hips back into the mattress as he lowly growled out, “Keep still. I don’t want any of that cum spilling out.”

You mewl his name pathetically, trying to burying your face in his neck as your orgasm continued to build. He whispered your name against your hairline. “That’s it. Cum for me. I know you can. Want to make sure we get you pregnant this first fucking try.”

He started finger fucking you even harder, kissing you deeply as you cried out. The feel of him, his mouth on yours, the way his chest vibrated against yours as he groaned did you in. This one wasn’t as hard, but it was just as mind blowing. As the waves of pleasure crashed down on you, Jackson smiled against your lips, appreciating the way your pussy clenched around his fingers.

As you came down from your high, he pressed his forehead against yours, cupping your pussy gently as he lovingly caressed your lower lips, making you mewl. “That’s a good girl. My sweet, wonderful girl.”

You swallowed, mouth having run dry as you weakly called out his name, your whole body still shaking. His hand slowly slid up and away from your pussy as he shifted around, lying on his stomach next to you. He cradled your face in hands, your shaky hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders. 

Jackson kissed you, nice and slow. Gentle and giving. He pulled away just enough to whisper, ‘I love you’ against your lips, a sentiment you mirrored in return.

Your sweet moment was broken though by the annoying sound of a series of insistent text messages. Jackson groaned, letting his head fall to your shoulder, making you giggle weakly. You wet your lips with your tongue. “You should go get that.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll be right back and with a towel to clean you up.”

He kissed your cheek sweetly before sitting up properly, kicking off his pants and slip his cock back into his boxers. You sighed blissfully, stretching out as you focused in on his nice derrière as he walked back out in search of his jacket.

A moment later, he called out, “It’s not mine. Must be yours. Want me to get it?”

“Mmmmmm. Sure. What does it say?”

With your phone in his hand, Jackson paused in the door way, jaw dropping before he yelled, “Fuck!”

You jumped. “What’s wrong, Seunie?”

He groaned in frustrated anger, his head falling back as he continued to walk towards you. He held your phone out for you and you took it, brow knit together before you saw the photo. 

Jackson dived towards his spot on the bed. “I can’t believe I owe Youngjae 100,000 won.”

You continued to lay there, staring at the photo of Jinyoung and his wife. He was kissing her cheek as she smiled, holding up a positive pregnancy test. 

Cuddling up to you, Jackson sighed, “I can’t believe they beat us at who got pregnant first. They just started trying.”

You laughed. “But there was no competition. We haven’t even been seriously trying.”

Jackson shot you a stink eye. He was silent was a few moment, thoughtful. Turning a serious gaze on you, he brushed your hair away from your face as he asked, “The why don’t we?”

That Feeling by @ropeseok​ Coming Soon!

Want more like this? Check out the following:

Reservations, a first-time story with V (Kim Taehyung) of BTS

STAR-CROSSED, a science fiction series with Jackson Wang of GOT7

As always, reviews, comments, asks, and tags are always loved! ~Peony

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[kyouryokusenshi]

Can you write a story where Scully has a difficult pregnancy but Mulder is there to support her through it?

I had an idea one night that I think will fulfill your prompt request. :) Enjoy! @today-in-fic @xffictober

Officially in her third trimester, Scully was growing restless. She couldn't get comfortable at night, which she primarily blamed on the aches and pains from being in her fifties, which were only exacerbated by the pregnancy. Of course, having to pee constantly didn't help and everything felt swollen.

She wouldn't have it any other way though. They wanted this child, desperately. The moment Scully had found out she was pregnant, she loved the tiny life growing inside more than anything and she knew Mulder did too. The way he protectively splayed his fingers over her abdomen at the news as he choked back a sob, she knew that he too was at mercy of the baby nestled inside. She smiled as she couldn't help but imagine their daughter having him wrapped around her little finger.

Still, a nagging feeling beckoned at her, and she wasn't sure if it was the mother's intuition or the doctor in her, but she knew something wasn't right. Until recently, her daughter would tumble and roll at the sound of her voice and sometimes Mulder's or Jackson's. As endearing as it was uncomfortable at times, the movement never failed to keep her worries at ease.

"What is going on, Baby Girl," she crooned. It was a pet name her mother always used for her and when she found out they were having a girl, she knew she would undoubtedly pass it on. As much as she scoffed as an irritable teenager, she only recently began to understand its significance.

"You will always be my baby girl, Dana. No matter how old you are."

Scully's eyes welled with tears as she suddenly yearned for her mother's presence. She knew she would be smitten with her granddaughter.

"Mom, I wish you were here. I wish you could see us now," she sniffled.

"Scully," Mulder's voice startled her from her reverie.

Scully flinched, sitting upright as much as she could before wiping the evidence from her eyes as she turned to face him.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," he replied. As he drew forward, she was instantly transported back to the morgue with William's presumed dead body. She shook the thought away as quickly as it came.

"What's wrong?" He asked gently as he knelt next to her, cupping her face with one hand and resting the other on her belly.

"Something is wrong, Mulder. With the baby, I know it. She hasn't moved in days."

Mulder looked down for a moment as she took his hand in hers over their child. She knew he trusted in her judgment, not just as a mother, but as a doctor herself.

They made an appointment with her doctor the following day and she lay nervously on the exam table as the ultrasound tech moved the wand around her abdomen. Mulder gave her hand a gentle squeeze as they watched the screen, transfixed by the images and the sudden whooshing of the baby's heartbeat.

It was a sound that never failed to bring forth the tears. In all their years of pain, suffering, and heartbreak, that sound was a constant. The sound of life that brought light to all their years spent in the darkness. Only this time, as Scully listened tentatively, she knew the sound carried fewer beats than it should have been. The sound was low and drawn out as the technician spoke, but she could make out the faint wording that the doctor would be in with them shortly.

"Scully… Scully," Mulder called to her. Her anchor to the shore. That was when she realized she had been unresponsive for two whole minutes.

She looked into his worried gaze and struggled to form the words, but something told her that he knew.

Never once letting go of her hand, he stood up and leaned over to press his lips against her forehead. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to draw upon the strength he offered to get through whatever came next.

The doctor had come in about a minute later, exchanging the usual pleasantries, but Scully was keen on getting to the point where their daughter was concerned.

"Something is wrong isn't it," she blurted out immediately and she could feel Mulder's anxious gaze.

The blonde doctor, a longtime friend, and colleague of Scully's hesitated before placing a gentle hand on Scully's arm. "Doctor Scully… Dana. Overall your baby girl is doing just fine."

"But," Scully interrupted. A part of her knew this wasn't easy coming from a friend.

"As I'm sure you already knew a doctor yourself, the baby's heart rate seems to be lower than we'd like. With that comes its own set of risks and potential complications I know you're ready aware of."

Scully felt Mulder's grasp on her hand tighten just slightly and she couldn't bear to look at him as they received the news.

"However, I don't think there is a need for immediate concern, but I'd like to start monitoring you more closely and have you come in weekly. I'd also like to do a nonstress test in the next few days to get a better picture."

Scully couldn't stop the tears from welling, she gave a quick nod. "Of course."

"Again," her friend emphasized, "I don't think there is a need for immediate concern, so please take it easy and try not to worry."

Scully simply nodded.

"We'll get that appointment set up for you right away. See you soon, Dana."

Once the door closed, Scully felt the dam give way. Everything had been fine up until that point and although they were overly precautious knowing her pregnancy was high risk, they became optimistic as everything progressed smoothly.

Mulder was on his feet immediately, gathering her into his arms and allowing her to cry into his chest. The sound was muffled, but he could feel her pain surging through him. Resting his chin on the crown of her head, he closed his eyes and whispered.

“It’s going to be alright, Scully. It has to be.”

He moved his left arm and settled it next to Scully’s on the expanse of their child. She took his hand and clasped it gently against her stomach with her own as if willing their collective strength unto the child inside.

They drove home in silence as Mulder looked over at his wife from time to time, his heart hurting as he watched her palm her swollen abdomen.

They had discussed the possibilities of a special needs child earlier on, the odds being stacked against them with Scully's advanced maternal age. More and more men were becoming fathers in their fifties. Even though sperm quality does decline, it was still unusual for a woman of Scully's age to become pregnant without assistance, though most women didn't have active alien DNA. It was without question that they wanted this child, come what may. But there's no way to fully prepare yourself should something go wrong.

Once they arrived home, Scully's eyes widened at the sight of Jackson's car in the driveway, a much-needed distraction from their current predicament.

Scully practically rushed up the stairs and pushed the door open, Mulder right on her heels.

Jackson looked up from the cereal bowl he helped himself to, startled.

"Oh hi," he said nervously.

"Jackson," Scully whispered in greeting as Mulder palmed her shoulders from behind.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, I should have called first."

"Nonsense," Mulder replied, moving to close the door behind him.

"You're welcome here anytime, I want you to know that," Scully insisted.

Jackson nodded before looking down to take another bite of unsweetened cheerios, the only cereal Scully allowed in the house.

"I'll make some sandwiches," Mulder offered.

Scully nodded, though not particularly hungry even though she knew she needed to eat, for the baby.

Jackson watched as Scully eased herself into the chair next to him and as she set a folder onto the table, he knew something was off. He knew something had been off since yesterday. It was one of the reasons he decided to pay a visit today.

He stared at the folder for a moment, seeing the address of Scully's obstetrician in bolded lettering across the front, and put two and two together.

"Doctor's appointment?" He asked casually.

Scully nodded and he could tell the smile on her face was surface level, at best. Something wasn't right and while he was hesitant to ask, it was also what he came here for.

"Is everything… okay?" He asked as he tapped his spoon lightly against the porcelain bowl, averting his gaze. "With the baby?"

A pause and then a sigh.

"For the most part," Scully said, appearing nonchalant. "But… they're concerned about her heart rate. It's a little on the slower side."

So that's what it was. He watched as she stared straight ahead, no doubt trying to hold everything together.

"I see," he responded, wanting to kick himself for being unable to be more empathetic.

Jackson watched as Mulder fumbled around in the kitchen before he heard Scully take a sharp inhale.

"Ah!"

"You okay?" He asked suddenly.

"Yeah," she said, wincing as she shifted her newfound girth in the chair. Her hand pressed tightly against her belly.

"I just… she just kicked. Hard. It startled me. She hasn't moved much in days, we've been so worried."

Jackson watched as she pressed against the spot and he couldn't help but smile at the relief evident in her features.

Scully met his gaze, which begged a question he had yet to verbalize. He wasn't sure if it was because of their connection or mother's intuition, but she seemed to know exactly what was going through his mind.

She reached for his hand and brought it to the swell of her belly, pressing his fingers against it and that's when he felt a tumbling just beneath the surface. His eyes widened as he looked at the spot his hand rested and he could feel his birth mother's gaze on him.

"Wow," he whispered in astonishment. He felt a slight pulsing at the base of his skull. Not quite painful, but it was a sensation unlike he'd ever experienced before.

The baby. His sister.

He felt a sudden indescribable urge to protect and at that moment, he wished hard for the tiny life inside to be born healthy and happy.

A minute or so passed before he pulled his hand back, still in awe.

"I've never felt a pregnant belly before," he said awkwardly. "Does it hurt?" He asked.

Scully shook her head with a smile. "Most of the time, not really."

He took another bite of cereal. "Was I like that too?"

"You were quite active and it kept me going, always knowing you were there," she said, thinking about Mulder's death.

As she looked into her son's eyes, she could tell he felt the memory too.

------

Scully tossed and turned, shifting her pregnancy pillow under her knees for the umpteenth time.

"I can feel you thinking."

Scully smiled wistfully. "Can't sleep. And this time it isn't because of some animal tranquilizer being used on humans."

The baby had been performing a variety of gymnastics for the last several hours and she couldn't get comfortable.

Mulder smiled as he shifted, spooning her from behind. His hand came to rest on the swell of her abdomen and immediately identified the cause of her restlessness. "Wow, we got a future soccer player in there."

"She inherited her father's insomnia, apparently," she quipped. "Though I know I shouldn't be complaining. I feel a bit… relieved somehow."

Splaying his hand over her belly, he moved to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

"She's a Scully-Mulder. It's literally in her DNA to be extraordinary."

Scully scoffed, yet couldn't help but smile despite herself.

------

When Scully returned for the Nonstress test, she was apprehensive. Afraid of the results as she lay there having her blood pressure taken more times than she cared to count.

The test itself took about 20 minutes as a sensor was moved around her abdomen.

Once it was complete it didn't take long to receive the results. Scully had explained to Mulder the difference between reactive and nonreactive results and a nonreactive result might necessitate a biophysical profile that evaluated the baby's breathing and body movements or a contraction stress test that assesses the heart rate than the uterus contracts. The baby's heart would need to meet certain criteria to be considered reactive.

"Everything looks exactly as it should be," the doctor expressed with a degree of elatement. "I'd like to continue to monitor you, but there is a considerable increase in activity in addition to her heart rate leading to the reactive results."

Scully felt the tears fall suddenly and the doctor excused herself from the room to give them a moment. It seemed such a simple thing, but she had been terrified of losing her daughter. She wouldn't bear another loss.

Then another thought suddenly crossed her mind. The look in William's eyes when she told him the news, the way the warmth permeated from his hand on her belly. William.

"Mulder," Scully said suddenly. "It was William. It had to be."

"What?" He said, startled.

"When I told William about the baby, I felt the strangest sensation. I think he did something to make sure she would be okay."

"And they called me Spooky."

"I know it, Mulder. Everything felt so different immediately after. The baby's movements… everything."

Mulder placed a kiss into the crown of Scully's hair and she sobbed happily.

"What did I tell you, Scully? The Mulder-Scully specimens are egg-exceptional."

A pause, then a sniffle. "I see what you did there, Mulder."

#scullyandmulder #mystruggleiv #pregnantscully

[noladyme]

The Crown Princess of Charming part 5

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

Rated M

Tags (let me know if you want on the list) @wonderlandfandomkingdom​

5

My eyes were closed; and I couldn’t open them. I felt like I was floating above the floor; and my heart was beating a million miles per minute. My mind was fighting for control over my limbs. I was shivering. To someone used to being on drugs, the sensation might have been a good one. For me it was terrifying. Get up! Get up, you stupid bitch! Move! I couldn’t.

I was in and out of conciousness; but after a while it felt like my head was finally clearing, and I began to see light through slits of my eyelids. I could hear everything around me. The air condition was clicking above the door, and I began counting the drips from the tap in the bathroom. Still floating in the air; I could also feel every inch of the floor touching my body; and my clothes against my skin. It became so intense, I wanted to turn it off.

I managed to open my eyes completely, and looked down my body. The needle was still in my arm, and I wanted to remove it, but couldn’t lift my hand to do so. Though I lay completely still; every heartbeat made the room around me shake visibly. Like I was in ground zero of an earthquake. I was the earthquake. My eyes began to sting, and I realized I hadn’t blinked in over a minute. I told them to close, and they thankfully complied. The dripping from the tap, and the clicking of the AC became louder. My head was pounding from the sound.

I don’t know how long I laid there. It felt like 5 minutes – and at the same time, a decade. I occasionally opened my eyes – beginning to regain control over my body. Lifting my shoulder from the floor; I forced myself to roll over – ending up on my stomach.

Through the window I saw the lights fade outside. How long have I been here?

There was a knock on the door. Each tap was like an explosion in my ears; and I opened my mouth to tell it to stop. “Cat?”. It was Opies voice. “Her car is still here”. Juice was there as well. Why are they here? I was busy with trying to wake up my limbs; and get down from the cloud I was floating on. I didn’t have time for guests. The knock became a pounding. “Cat? Are you in there?”. Stop yelling, Opie. It’s hurting my ears.

The door crashed open; and Opie was standing in the room. “Shit; call Jax. Get him here, now!”. He knelt down next to me; putting an arm around my shoulder; pulling me into a seated position. “What happened? Cat?”. He yanked the needle from my arm; and put it on the floor.

“Linda”, I rasped. “Linda? Who’s Linda, sweetheart? Talk to me”. “Arm… Linda”, I tried.

Opie held me against his chest. “We’re going to the hospital”. My eyes widened. “N-no hospital!”, I sobbed. “My job…”. “You need help”, Opie said. “No. I’m dead”.

I closed my eyes; and felt his hand on my cheek. “Cat; stay awake!”. “He’s on his way. Close by”. Juice had entered the room. “Let’s get her onto the bed”. I felt them lift me, and the softness of the mattress hit my back. “Jax…”, I said. “He’s coming”, Juice said. “Ope, get some water”. Someone held a glass to my lips, and I felt something cold trickle into my mouth. Opening my eyes, I saw Juice’s worried face. “Come on, dancing queen. Stay with us”.

There was an engine sound outside, and shortly after, Jax was in the room. “Cat!”. He ripped me from Juice’s arms; and cradled my face with his hand. His eyes were the picture of pain. “Cat, baby. I’m here…”. “I’m dead”, I mumbled. “You’re not dead. You’re here. Stay with me, baby; please!”.

I felt him pull me towards his chest; but couldn’t reciprocate his embrace. “We need to get her to the hospital”. “No!”, I sobbed. Opie shook his head. “She said something about her job”, he muttered. “Jax, there was a syringe in her arm…”.

My eyes closed again; and Jax tried to pry them open. “Don’t got to sleep. Open your eyes”. “Linda…”, I whispered. My tongue felt like it was twice as big as normal. “Who’s Linda, baby?”. My head tilted backwards; and a hand held it up for me. “Tell me who Linda is!”, Jax demanded. I opened my eyes again. Jackson was almost sobbing. “No, Jax. It’s ok…”. “It’s not ok, baby. I’m getting you out of here”.

He tried to lift me of the bed; but his body was shaking; so Opie – who’s hand had been behind my head – took over. “Get the car, Juice”. The young biker ran out the door. “No hospital”, I pleaded.

“I’ll take her to the cabin. She can come down there – away from whoever did this”, Jax said. Opie began walking out the room. “Jax; are you sure she didn’t…”. “Ope, look at her. She’s beat up!”, Jax growled. “Someone put that needle in her arm”. “Ok, but you can’t drive, man. You’re reeling”. “You drive; I’ll be in the back with her”.

I was transported to the backseat of my car. Juice had moved my stuff around so it would fit me and Jax. I was leaning against Jackson’s chest; and he was continuously talking to me, and kissing the top of my head; trying to get me to stay awake. “Get Chib’s to go to the cabin”, Opie called to Juice. “My pops is up there already; call him as well”. “Chibs?”, Juice asked. “He’s the closest thing we have to a doctor. Just get him”.

Opie started the engine; and the roar woke up my body. I jolted. “Jax!”, I yelled. “It’s ok, I got you”, he shushed me. Opie began driving; and the sensation of the movement, made me feel like I was suddenly falling through the air; with nothing holding on to me. “I’m falling!”, I screamed. “I’m falling down!”. Jax held me tightly; pulling me onto his lap. “You’re not falling. We’re going somewhere safe”. “Don’t let go…”, I sobbed.

“I’m not letting go. Ever”.

---

I blacked out. It wasn’t sleep; but I still fell in to a nightmare. In it; I was screaming into the dark – but not a sound came out.   Hey kitty… my Catherine… I won’t lose you… I’ll do anything… His hands were grasping for me; and caught my wrist. He threw me against a wall. You’re not leaving me. We’re meant to be. His hand went to my throat; and began choking me. I struggled and sobbed. Just let me go. Please, Josh! I can’t. I won’t. He punched me in the gut; and I toppled over. No more. Please!

“No more!”, I screamed; waking from the sound of my own voice. Jax stroked my cheek. “It’s over, baby. Shh…”.

We were pulled over in the forest somewhere, and Opie opened the door for us. It was the middle of the night; and I drew in fresh air. “Where are we?”, I breathed. “At our cabin”, Jax said. He and Opie pulled me out of the car; and Jax ran to the door of a small house; letting Opie carry me.

“Piney!”, Jax roared. “It’s us. Open up!”. The door opened, and Piney stepped aside to let us enter. I hardly noticed the room we stepped in to; too occupied with trying to calm my breath. “She’s tweaking, man”, Opie said. Jax opened a door and I was placed on a bed inside a smaller room. “I saw this shit with Wendy”, he snarled. “I can’t leave her alone. She might hurt herself”.

He shrugged of his cut and flannel shirt; and then stripped me of my shoes and jeans; tucking me in under the covers. “You’ve got to stay with me, Cat”, he said. “Whatever they gave you might make you see things; but it’s not real; ok?”. He got onto the bed with me, and put his arms around me, holding me tight. “Just try to relax your body”.

My muscles were tensing up, and I was beginning to feel the pain from the kick to my abdomen and ribs. I sobbed uncontrollably. “I can’t. It’s too much”. “You can do it”, he insisted. “I know you can. You’re strong”. Tears began streaming from my eyes. “I’m sorry…”, I cried. He shook his head. “No, this is my fault, baby. I shouldn’t have let you go on your own”, he sighed. “I’m so sorry…”.

“Jax, Chibs will be here tomorrow. He’s stuck in Oakland for now”, Opie said, from the door. “Do you need anything?”. “Quiet. And keep it dark and cool in here. She needs fresh air”. Jax stroked the hair away from my face. Opie opened a window, and pulled the curtains closed. “What about the shaking? She’s so bad, she might fall of the bed”, Opie muttered. He was right. My body was convulsing; and Jax had to grab on to my arm, so I wouldn’t knock over the lamp on the nightstand. “I’ll hold on to her until she comes down”, he growled. “And get a bucket. She might get sick”. Opie left us to get the bucket; and Jax put a leg over me; embracing me, to hold my arms down. Putting the bucket by the bed, Opie left us alone, answering a call on his cell. He closed the door behind him.

“What’s happening?”, I whimpered. “You’re coming down from the meth”, he whispered. “Meth?”, I said. He clenched his jaw. “I’ve seen it before”. Wendy. Abel’s mother. “You did this for her as well…”. “Too many times”, he sneered. “I’m sorry…”, I whispered. He shook his head. “This is different. You’re different”.

I began weeping quietly. Jackson shushed me; and held me even tighter; stroking my hair. “Sleep, Cat”, he whispered. “You told me to stay awake”, I sniveled. He chuckled slightly. “You’re speaking in full sentences. I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine”, he said. “Rest”.

He put one arm under my head, so I was laying against his shoulder; and held my body close; absorbing the jolts from my muscles. “Just sleep”. I closed my eyes, and tried to calm myself.

Falling in and out of sleep, I noticed people around the bed. At one point, someone pried my eyes open to check my pupils.

“You have more experience with this, than I do, Jackie”, Chibs’ voice said. “Check her pulse again, man!”, Jax said. “It’s racing, I already told you”.

Someone stroked my cheek. “Cat?”. “Mmhmm?”, I mumbled. “How do you feel?”. “Not dead. Pain”, I croaked.

“Go back to sleep, luv’”. “Ok”.

I was out seconds later.

---

When I woke, I was alone in the bed. The door was open, and I heard voices from the front room. “… awake yet. She’s been out all day”. Opie sounded worried. It sounded like Chibs was with him. “There’s not a lot we can do but wait”, he said. “I’m more worried about what was in that shit, other than meth. It might not have been clean”. “I know, man…”, Opie muttered.

I opened my eyes. “Good morning, sweetheart. Or should I say, afternoon…”, a gravely voice said. In an armchair in the corner sat Piney. He gave me a relieved smile. “Guys. She’s back!”.

Opie and Chibs came in to the room. I sat up in the bed, and immediately felt a rumbling in my stomach. “Oh… God…”. Opie rushed to my side, and held my hair. Chibs lifted the bucket to my mouth – and I threw up violently. Opie rubbed my back. “That’s it, lass”, Chibs smiled. “Let it out”.

My body shook; and I let out another hurl. Once my stomach was empty, and pained from my muscles contracting; Chibs gave the bucket to Piney, and handed me a glass of water. I drank the whole glass; and let it settle in my stomach. “Well, that was attractive”, I muttered. Opie – who was still rubbing circles on my back – chuckled. “You should have seen Donna when she was pregnant with Kenny”, he said. “It was vomit city for 7 months straight, before she finally got over the morning sickness”. “I’m not pregnant”, I muttered. Chibs smiled crookedly. “No, but you did get something else nasty shoved inside you, my love”.

I took a deep breath; and put my feet on the floor. “Where’s Jax?”, I asked. “Just outside”, Piney said. “I’ll get him”. “Is he ok?”, I said. “A bit of ptsd is all. He’ll be fine”. Piney left the room. I tried to stand up; but almost toppled over. Chibs caught me in his arms. “Carefull, Cat. You’re still under the influence”, he chuckled.

Jax came in to the room; almost running to take me in his arms. His face was white; and he had dark circles under his eyes. “Sit down, baby”, he whispered. “Can you get her something to wear?”, he asked the others, and Opie grabbed some sweatpants and a t-shirt from a drawer. “We’ll leave you to it”, he muttered, and they left us alone.

“How are you feeling?”, Jax said; as he sat me down on the bed again. “Like someone beat me up, and drugged me”, I said. He tried to put his arms around me, but I shrugged him off. “I just hurled all over Chibs and Opie. I smell like shit”. “Yeah, you do”, he smiled. “Let’s get you cleaned up”. He put my arm around his shoulder, and supported my weight as we walked to the bathroom across the hall from the room, I’d slept in.

“I can clean myself”, I grumbled, and sat down on the toilet. “Just stop complaining, and let me help you”, he said. He pulled my top over my head; and removed my bra and socks for me. “Stand up”, he said. Once on my feet, he pulled down my panties, and helped me step out of them.

He looked me over with angry eyes. I had bruising covering my stomach and left side. He touched my skin softly, and I winced. “Sorry…”, he muttered.

I took a quick look into the mirror. My right eye was swollen; and my cheek was black and blue. I had to look away.

Stepping into the shower, I turned on the water; making it as hot as possible. I was freezing for some reason. “It’s the come-down”, he said; as if he’d read my mind. Jax unwrapped a new toothbrush from the cabinet, and put some toothpaste on it. I took it; muttering a thanks. He sat down on the toilet, and looked at me as I showered. “I’d join you…”, he smiled. “Don’t…”, I said. “Not now”. I couldn’t deal with his jokes - my head was too scrambled and upset.

I quickly brushed my teeth, and got out of the shower, accepting the towel he handed me. “Cat…”, he began. “No, Jackson”, I said. “You’re going to have to talk about what happened”, he said; voice hard. I put on the sweatpants, and tied the string, to keep the Bobby sized garment from falling off my hips. “This was him, Jax”, I said. He handed me the t-shirt. “I’m not sure…”.

I looked at him with rageful eyes. “They said kitty. That’s what he calls me!”. Jax let out a long breath. “Ok…”, he said. “Was he there?”. I shook my head, and put the t-shirt on. “No… he wouldn’t let someone else…”. I couldn’t finish the sentence. “What?”, Jax growled. “What happened?”. I looked at him, and parted my lips; tears welling up in my eyes. “Did any of those cocksuckers…”, he began. “No!”, I whimpered. “One of them began taking his pants off, but he didn’t… the others stopped him”.

Jax looked ready to commit murder. “I’m gonna kill them”, he yelled.

I began full on sobbing. His expression softened; and he took me in his arms. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you”. “You didn’t. It’s just…”. I didn’t finish. “Everything’s gone to shit”. He stroked my hair. “No. No, baby”, he breathed. “I’m gonna lose my job!”, I whimpered. “Gemma called you in sick”, Jax said. “I was supposed to take that test today”, I cried against his shoulder.

He put his hands on my shoulders, and held me in front of him, to look at me seriously. “Your job is the last thing on my mind right now; and it should be the last thing on yours”. “What am I going to do?”, I said. He sighed. “For now, you’re going to get something to eat, and then tell me what the hell happened yesterday”, he said. “We’ll figure the rest out from there”.

---

Jax helped me into the front room of the cabin. During the day Opie, Chibs, Piney and Juice had taken turns checking on me – and Jax, I thought to myself. It looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.

Someone had brought burgers and fries; and I attacked my serving with a fervor – famished. “Coke?”, I said, mouth full. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”, Juice chuckled. Piney smacked him over the head, and Opie handed me a large cup of soda.

“Cat, you need to tell me what happened”, Jax said. We were seated at the dining table; Jax having taken the seat around the corner from me. “All of it”.

I swallowed a bite; and met his dark eyes. “There were four of them…”, I began. “Mother…”. Chibs growled. “Let her talk, man”, Opie said. I clenched my jaw. “Ski masks. I didn’t see their faces. Their clothes weren’t special… I wouldn’t recognize them”, I said. “They punched me; and kicked me, when I tried to get away”. Jax was literally grinding his teeth. “She’s bruised all over”, he snarled.

I sighed. “Can I have a cigarette?”, I said. Opie gave me one, and lit it for me. I took a draw from the smoke; and coughed from the pain streaming from my ribs. Jax reached for the cigarette in my hand; but I pulled it away. “Just… let me”, I said. He exhaled, and took my free hand in his.

“Tell us more, darling”, Piney grumbled. “I don’t know what to say… it wasn’t good”, I muttered. “They held me down; and one of them…”. I looked at Jax, and could see that he understood this was also the guy who had wanted to rape me. “He jabbed my arm with a needle. Then… You saw the rest”.

“Did they say anything?”, Jax asked. “They talked about money. 500 bucks. A name, maybe…. Darcy?”. Jax’s eyes lit on fire. “Darby?”, he growled. “I think so…”.

He slammed his fist into the table; making me jump from my seat. “He’s dead”, he said. “I’m going to kill him myself”. “Jax; we just cleared our beef with The Nords”, Opie muttered. “This isn’t beef. This is beyond anything…”. He couldn’t finish his sentence; but instead stood up; and kicked his chair into the wall. “Was he there? Was Darby there?”, he demanded. “No…”, I whimpered. “They just talked about him. Said his name”.

Chibs got up, and put a calming hand on Jacksons shoulder. “Jackie. Get your head straight, brother. Your woman is sitting there; scared out her mind”. Jax’s body language immediately relaxed; and he looked at my terrified face. He crouched down next to me; and turned my body to face him. “I’m sorry”, he whispered; and put his forehead to mine.

Piney raised a brow at us. “We need more than Darby’s name being mentioned”, he said. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”. I shook my head. Jax stood back up, and got behind me – putting his hands on my shoulders. “We don’t need anything else. Darby’s never stuck with a truce before”.

Juice looked at us ponderingly. “Who’s Linda?”. “What?”, I said. “You kept repeating her name. Even in your sleep…”. I frowned. “I can’t help think it’s creepy you all watched me sleep…”, I said. Juice stifled a grin. “Who is she, though?”.

I suddenly remembered. “The guy with the needle. He had a tattoo… It was a swastika – with the name Linda next to it”. Opie took the half-smoked cigarette from my hand; and puffed it once, before putting it out. “That asshole, Ollie. His girls name is Linda”. “Ollie?”, Chibs said. “Isn’t he the one who Darby had cooking out by Chestnut Road?”. “Yeah”, Opie muttered.

“We got our proof”, Jax said.

I stood up; and stumbled towards the bedroom. “I’m not feeling good”, I muttered. “You gonna vomit again?”, Juice asked. I sent him a menacing look; and continued down the hall.

I fell into the bed. My head was spinning. “Cat?”. Jax was standing in the doorway; looking at me nervously. “Can I go back to sleep now?”, I whispered. He frowned. “Talk to me”. “What do you want to hear?”, I said. He came over to sit by me on the bed. “That I’m ok?... I’m not”. “I know”, he said. “What do you want me to do?”. I sighed. “Put me on the back of your bike; and take me far away; where I can feel safe”. “Shit, I’ll go get it right now”, he smiled softly. “But is that what you really want?”. I shook my head. “I just want this to be over”.

I looked at his exhausted face. “Did you sleep at all?”, I asked. “I’m fine”, he breathed. “You’re not”, I said. “You’ll do anything for me?”. He nodded; and chewed his lip. “Lay down next to me, and sleep”. I tried to smile. “Babe, I need to…”. “Sleep”, I insisted.

He let out a long exhale; and walked over to close the door. I laid myself down; and he took off his shoes – joining me on the bed. We laid face to face; and I stroked his forehead. He was tense; and his eyes were darting; looking anywhere but at me. “Are you mad at me?”, I whispered. “No”, he said. “It’s not…”. “This wasn’t your fault”, I said. “You didn’t do this”. He finally looked at me. There were tears in his eyes. “I could have lost you. I just got you; and I could have lost you… When I saw you laying there…”. I kissed away a tear that had begun running down his cheek. “I’m here, baby”, I smiled softly. “You have me”.

He stroked my cheek; and kissed me gently. “I love you”, he whispered. “I love you”, I smiled. “Now sleep”

I ran my fingers across his forehead, letting them slide down his cheek; before pulling him towards me, so his head rested against my chest. Stroking his hair softly; I listened to his breathing calm down. He fell asleep within minutes – and I followed him soon after.

---

The next morning, I woke before Jax. My old man’s legs were tangled with mine; and he looked at peace. There was a knock at the door. “Jax?”. It was Gemma. Jax jostled, but didn’t wake.

I slipped out of his grasp; and got out of bed; quietly making my way to the door – opening it. Gemma’s face was pained when she saw me. “Oh, baby”, she muttered, and pulled me in to her arms. “I’m so sorry”. I returned her hug. “He’s asleep”. Gemma nodded; and we walked to the front room; sitting down at the table. She poured me a cup of coffee; and I took a cigarette from Jax’s cut; that was hanging from the chair I was sitting on.

“Are you ok?”; Gemma asked. “Hell, no”, I chuckled. She half smiled at me. “Where is everyone?”. “Juice is sweeping the perimeter; and the others are on their way back to Charming”, she said. She looked down. “You’re gonna hate me for asking, but are you preg…”. “No”, I interrupted her. “I’m not”. She nodded. “Jax isn’t the only one with a little ptsd, huh?”, I asked, and took a draw from my cigarette. “Can you blame me?”, she smirked. I shook my head, and smiled. “Is Neeta with Abel?”, I asked. “Lyla’s got him for the day. She sends her love”.

We sat a while without talking. “You know they’re gonna have to do something about this…”, Gemma suddenly said. I nodded. “This is…”. I ran a hand across my face. “I’ve never seen him like that. He’s going to kill someone… for me”. Gemma frowned. “And you don’t want him to”. “No”, I whispered. “I don’t want that on my hands”. “It won’t be, the club will make sure it isn’t”. “You don’t get it Gemma”, I said. “I’m the reason this is happening… I brought this on him”.

Gemma took my hand. “This life isn’t for everyone”. I looked down. “Do you want me gone?”, I whispered. She squeezed my hand. “You’re the best thing that’s happened for my son in a long time”, she said. “If you left… it would kill him”. I chewed my lip; and tears welled up in my eyes. “I love him”, I said. “I know”, she said. “And you need to remember that, for what’s coming”. I sighed.

“How do you do it?”, I said. “How do you deal with the blood and the death?”. She took a sip of her coffee, and shook her head. “One day at a time, sweetheart”.

Jax stumbled into the room; rubbing his eyes. “Hey”, he said, and kissed his mother’s cheek; before stepping over to me. He kissed me gently; and stroked the bruises on my face with a light hand. “How’d you sleep?”. “Like someone coming down from meth”, I said. He frowned. “Not funny”, he muttered. “Kind of funny”, I said.

Jackson grabbed a mug of coffee himself. “Jax said you called me in sick”, I said. “Told the office you were in a car crash”, Gemma replied. “What car?”. Jax and Gemma looked at each other without a word. “What car, Jax?”, I repeated with a firm voice. “I had Tig drive my bike up here. He took the chevy”, Jax muttered. “What?”. My heart dropped. “What did you do to my car?”. “We’ll get you another”, he said; and lit a cigarette. “I don’t want another car”, I yelled. “I want my car. Call him and get it back!”. Jax took a deep draw of his cigarette. “It’s already trashed”, he said.

Gemma stood up, and picked up her purse. “I’ll let you talk. I just came to check you were ok. There are groceries in the kitchen, and fresh clothes in a bag by the door”. She smiled softly. “Let me know if you need anything else”. “Thanks, ma’”, Jackson muttered. “I love you”, she said, and walked out the door.

I looked at Jax with hard eyes. “You can’t make decisions like that for me”, I said. He clenched his jaw. “I made a call”, he said. “A shitty one”, I sneered. “Careful”, he grumbled. My breath hitched. “Or what?”, I muttered. “Is this part of being an old lady? Bending over and taking it?”. He looked at me with a coldness that made my whole body shiver. “Last time I bent you over, you seemed to be fine with it”. There was no jest in his eyes.

I stood up, and went to go back to the bedroom. Jax grabbed my wrist. “Cat…”. I froze. “Sit down”. I sat back down slowly; tears welling up in my eyes. “Please…”, I whispered. His face dropped. “Baby… what did you think was gonna happen just now?”. I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m not… I-i’m sorry”, I stuttered. Jax’s face went white. “No, darlin’. No!”, he breathed. He took my shaking hands, and tried to pull my rigid body towards him. “I wouldn’t… Please don’t ever be afraid of me!”. My body was stiff, and I couldn’t meet his eyes. “You’re angry…”. “Not with you! Shit…”.

He knelt on the floor in front of me, and put his hands on either side of my face; trying to get me to look at him. “I’m so sorry… I would never hurt you”. My eyes flickered towards his. He looked anguished. “Is that what he did to you?”, he whispered. I looked down again. “He only beat me once. That time at my job”, I said. “But there was always something there”. Jax straightened his back, and put his arms around me. His hand went to my head; and he stroked my hair. “I’ll never hurt you like that. No one has the right to do that to you”, he breathed into my ear. “To anyone”. “Why did you say careful?”, I whimpered. “I didn’t want your heartrate to go up. You’re still reeling”. “I’m sorry”, I sobbed. “Don’t say that. You don’t have to say that to me. You haven’t done anything wrong”. He sighed; and gently kissed my lips. “I’m sorry about your car… I should have talked to you about it. I have to make decisions sometimes…”. I nodded, and sniveled. “You should have”, I muttered. “But I get it”. He smiled softly. “I love you, Cat”.

I tried to smile. “I want to go home”, I said. Jax shook his head. “Not yet”, he said. “Until we know for sure this is about the club, and not about you; you have to stay here”. “Stay safe…”, I muttered. I wiped my eyes, and sighed.

Juice came in to the cabin then, looking like he hadn’t slept all night. “We’re good”, he said. Jax stood up. “Thanks, man”, Jax said. “You good? You look like shit”. “Haven’t slept for more than 36 hours”, Juice chuckled. “Haven’t done that since I used to do coke”.

I gasped. “Juice!”, I said. “Have you ever done a drug test?”. The biker laughed. “Hell yeah. Did them once a week in the halfway house”. Jax looked at me bewilderedly. “Why?”, he said. “How long after you take a drug, will it stay in your system?”. Juice shrugged. “Depends on how often you take ‘em”, he said. “Up to a week, I guess… if it’s just a piss-test”.

“Shit!”, I cried out. “I have to wait a week before I can do the test for work”. “Don’t worry about that now, Cat”, Jax said pointedly. “I am worried. I’m gonna lose my job; Jax!”. He took my hand, and tried to calm me. “We’ll talk to Unser. Get him to write out a report on your accident; saying you were tested at St. Thomas”. I shook my head. “They can double check…”, I said. “They’re not going to question the sheriff”, he answered. “Don’t worry about it. Just focus on getting better”.

Juice stifled a yawn. “Go get some sleep, man”, Jax said. “Take the other room”. Juice looked grateful; walked in to the second bedroom, and closed the door behind him.

I stood up and stepped into Jax’s arms. He held me close; and I closed my eyes – leaning against his shoulder. He kissed my neck; his beard tickling me slightly – making me giggle. “What?”, he asked. “Your beard is tickling me”, I said. He pulled his head back, and smirked. “I’ll shave it, when you get crow-inked”. I raised a brow at him. “Lucky for me, I like your beard”, I smiled.

He frowned. “What am I going to do about you, dollface?”, he said. “Is it really such a big deal for you?”. I stroked his cheek. “I don’t like the thought of being marked like that”, I said. “I don’t want people to look at me and just think there goes Jackson Tellers old lady”. He chuckled. “You could get a tiny one… in a place only I will see”. He slid a hand over my bottom, and squeezed gently. “I’m not getting my ass tattooed!”, I said. His hand went further down, and between my legs. “There are other places”, he breathed in my ear.

His fingers roamed my clothed folds; and my breath hitched. “Jax! Juice is right next door!”, I whispered. “He’s probably already out cold”, he said, and continued his pressing of my warmth. “What was that about not getting my heartrate up?”, I said. “We can go slow”, he smirked.

He pressed his body against mine; and a familiar tingling began spreading through my groin. I couldn’t help myself; and parted my legs; letting him continue his assault on my privates. “Come on, old lady”, he grinned at me. “These sweatpants are giving me a serious hard-on”.

Old lady! “Jax!”, I gasped. He was nibling at my neck. “I know”, he said. “Come on, baby…”. I pushed his hand away, and stepped back. “No!”, I said. “I remember something”. He furrowed his brow. “What?”. “The men… they didn’t know who I was, when they first came in”, I said. “Once they realized I’m with you; they almost ran out of the room”. “Darby didn’t tell them”, Jax said. “Maybe he didn’t know either”. Jax shook his head. “It doesn’t matter either way”, he scoffed. “He’s still a dead man”. “It does matter, if it means someone had him do it. If Josh…”.

Jax’s phone rang in his pocket. He picked up. “Yeah?”. His face went from questioning to hard within seconds. “You sure?... yeah, Juice… No, he’s out cold. I need someone else here… Happy?”. He looked at me worriedly. “No one closer?... Because he’s goddamn scary; and she’s still… yeah. Ok. I’ll be there”. He hung up, and looked at me. “I have to go”, he said apologetically. “Happy’s 30 minutes from here; he’ll come back up Juice”. I shuddered. “Ok”, I said. Jax put his arms around me again; and kissed me. “You’ll be fine. Anyone comes near that shouldn’t, and they’ll be dead”. “I don’t doubt it”, I muttered.

He sighed, and put his forehead to mine. “I love you”, he whispered. “Say it again”, I demanded. “I love you”, he smiled. “I love you too”, I breathed; and kissed him.

Jax got his shirt and his cut; and walked towards the door. “Keep this locked”, he said; and handed me the bag Gemma had left for me. “Your purse and gun are in the bedroom”. I nodded. “Where are you going?”, I asked. He clenched his jaw. “Chibs got info on Ollie”. I shook my head. “Jax, no…”, I pleaded. “I’m just gonna talk to him…”, Jax said earnestly. He sighed. “I have to make a short run first. Oakland. I’ll be back tonight”. “Guns?”, I said. “Yeah”, he muttered, almost apologetically. “I have to go”. I nodded. “Be careful”, I said. “I promise”, he smiled. “Lock the door”, he repeated. “Yes, sir”, I said. He smirked; and left the cabin.

As I locked the door; I heard him start up his bike, and drive away. I quickly showered and got dressed in my own clothes. Gemma had brought things for both me and Jax; so I put on some jean-shorts; a tank top; and the blue flannel Jax had worn the night we’d first made love. It smelled like him; and calmed me down.

30 minutes – almost to the second – later, I heard another bike pull up. I sprang to the bedroom, and grabbed my handgun; before hesitantly looking back into the front room. The door unlocked, and Happy walked in – looking anything but happy. He closed and locked the door behind him.

I slowly walked into the room. Happy looked at my bruised face; before noticing the gun in my hand. “The safety’s on”, he said with a gravely voice. “Wanna play Uno?”

---

[wrestlingisfake]

All Out preview

Here we go with AEW's annual Labor Day weekend show in Hoffman Estates, just like the original All In show three years ago. I have been going to wrestling shows for days, and it all comes down to this!

The show starts at 8pm EDT, streaming on Bleacher Report (in the US and Canada) and Fite.tv for $49.99. A free pre-show will be available at 7pm EDT.

CM Punk vs. Darby Allin - This is CM Punk's first pro wrestling match since January 26, 2014, when he spent 49 minutes in the Royal Rumble working with a staph infection and a possible concussion. The following night he walked out of WWE, leading to seven and a half years of debate about what is next move would/should be. Two weeks ago he debuted with AEW and declared that he wanted to help the younger talent, starting with a match against Allin. Allin, for his part, took some exception to being the first opponent, as if he's just a stepping stone to bigger matches.

The big issue here is seeing how well Punk, 42, has held up after seven years away. I've seen reports that he's looking good in training, but you just don't know until the bell rings. Regardless, I expect the hometown crowd to be very forgiving to Punk, and Allin is good enough to carry the match if he really has to.

I feel like I ought to have more to say about this, but it also feels like everything's been said. I can't believe Punk would lose his first match in. But I can believe that if Punk insisted on doing the job, AEW would let him do that. It'd be unusual for the returning guy to come up short, but New Japan does that sometimes and it can work as a longer build to the first win. Still, it is Chicago (sort of), so my gut says Punk wins to let us feel special.

Kenny Omega vs. Christian Cage - Omega is defending the AEW men's world title. For months, Omega held four different belts, representing championships in AEW, AAA, and Impact Wrestling. But on August 13 Christian defeated Omega for the Impact/TNA world title (and later retired the TNA belt), leaving Kenny more vulnerable than ever. The AAA and Impact titles aren't at stake in this match, so no matter who what happens the winner will be a double champion.

Cage is a great wrestler, but not a great challenger for this match. For months the storytelling pointed towards Hangman Page in this spot, but Page was abruptly written off television so he could take paternity leave. I don't think anybody resents Christian for filling in, but nobody really expects the 47-year-old, recently returned from a seven-year retirement, to win the big one. It's also a rematch of something we already saw a few weeks ago, which isn't a big deal but it's a bit of a talking point when everyone is always dogging WWE for excessive rematches.

The big go-home angle on September 1 was that Omega, the Young Bucks, and their buddies destroyed Christian, the Lucha Bros., and their buddies. After the show went off the air Tony Khan promised that this kind of bullshit interference wouldn't happen in the Bucks-Lucha Bros. cage match. Well, okay, but this match doesn't have a steel cage, so I have a feeling there will be plenty of bullshit interference. And I'm willing to bet that interference gives Omega the win while somewhat protecting Christian.

Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson vs. Penta El 0M & Rey Fenix - The Young Bucks (Matt and Nick) are defending the AEW tag team title. The Lucha Bros. won a four-team tournament to earn this shot. The Bucks have relied on a lot of outside interference from their entourage lately, so to counter that this match will be held inside a steel cage. In AEW, the only way to win a cage match is by pinfall or submission.

I was at All Out 2019 when these teams last met in a crazy ladder match (which feels like a million years ago). Everyone raved about it, and also worried that the Bucks damn near killed themselves. Personally I had a really shitty view of the ring, which made it hard to follow the match. This time I've got a much better view, so I'm looking forward to some good karma.

In theory the Bucks have sworn off doing the dangerous shit from the ladder match, but technically this is a cage match so maybe they'll just do different dangerous shit. Personally I'm more intrigued by seeing them change their game to fit in the confines of the cage, which doesn't lend itself to springboard flips off the ropes. But the cage has places to stand at the top, which will encourage the idea of setting up crazy highspots.

I feel like a title change is possible, but I could just as easily see the Bucks hold the belts for another six months. Santana and Ortiz seem to be next in line for a shot, and honestly I think that would work with either of these teams. But I guess I'll lean towards the Bucks retaining.

Chris Jericho vs. MJF - MJF defeated Jericho on November 7, 2020, to earn entry into Jericho's stable, the Inner Circle. MJF inevitably betrayed Jericho and formed his own stable, the Pinnacle, which beat the Inner Circle on May 5, 2021. Jericho was so determined to get revenge that he accepted MJF's terms to perform five "labors" to earn a rematch, but MJF beat Jericho once again on August 18, 2021. So now MJF is 3-0 against Jericho. (For some reason we're counting the ten-man match on May 5 but not the other one on May 30, which Jericho's team won, but whatever.) To get this final rematch, Jericho has put his career on the line.

Suddenly everything else in this storyline has taken a back seat to the idea that this may really be the end of Chris Jericho's 30-year in-ring career. There are plenty of fans who think Jericho, 50, should hang it up, but now that it might actually happen I think people aren't so sure they're ready for it all to end. The timing for Jericho to tease this is perfect, because he could easily just win and go another couple of years, or he could easily just finish today.

Part of what makes this work so well is MJF. I think everyone recognizes that MJF is going to be a top name in the 2020s, and that Jericho wants to make this guy. So it's like, if Jericho can get retired by anyone he wants, why wouldn't he pick MJF? I think the match will feel a little flat if Jericho comes up short yet again, but if it's the end of his career it suddenly doesn't matter if he's lost too many times, y'know?

Still, something tells me this isn't the end. Something tells me Jericho has more he wants to do. And something tells me, in a few years, we may be wondering if it would have been better if he retired on this show.

Britt Baker vs. Kris Statlander - Baker is defending the AEW women's world title. I expect to like this match but there's not really much to it. Baker was feuding with Red Velvet a while back and then Statlander made the save for Velvet. Baker and her crony Rebel have brought in Jamie Hayter to stack the deck against Statlander and Velvet. I think it's way too soon for Baker to drop the title, and I don't expect Kris to be the one to take it from her. So this is kind of a formality to kill time until Baker vs. Thunder Rosa down the road.

Miro vs. Eddie Kingston - Miro's AEW TNT championship is on the line. Somehow in the past year Miro has gone from Kip Sabian's gamer buddy to a monster heel who thinks God has anointed him to beat the shit out of people. Kingston has gone from a gutless heel to the most beloved guy in AEW. Wrestling is great.

Anyway, I love both of these guys, but I can't just bet that all the wrestlers have a good time. If Eddie's going to win a championship, it really ought to be in New York. I realize Chicago is AEW's favorite and we get all the good shit, but I've had my CM Punk ice cream and I'm maaaaaybeee going to get the Bryan Danielson debut too, so I'm willing to let New York have this one thing. Just this one time.

Jon Moxley vs. Satoshi Kojima - Moxley is the new GCW world champion following a surprise appearance at last night's GCW show; I assume that does not turn this into a title match. Moxley told top contender Nick Gage "you know where to find me," and it's anyone's guess if Gage will show up here to accept that invitation.

Mox is a busy boy making friends everywhere he goes. For a few weeks he was angling for a match with a top New Japan Pro Wrestling star on this show. The leading candidate was Hiroshi Tanahashi, but several other interesting names were discussed by fans and pundits alike. After that buzz, Kojima is a bit of a letdown.

Don't get me wrong, it's cool to get a guy who's held the IWGP heavyweight title, the All Japan Triple Crown, and the NWA world title. Kojima's a legend. But at this stage of his career, he's the guy New Japan sends when the real stars aren't available. Besides which, my cup runneth over when it comes to 50-year-old guys showing up to prove they can wrestle like they're 40. And I don't think anybody really believes Kojima can beat Moxley.

Ideally, this match should end with a video message from a bigger New Japan name calling out Moxley. I'm not confident that will happen. Then again, at this point I wouldn't be surprised if Moxley showed up in NXT UK to pick a fight with WALTER.

Paul Wight vs. QT Marshall - Formerly the Giant in WCW and the Big Show in WWE, Wight debuted with AEW earlier this year as a color commentator. QT and his goons were picking on Wight's broadcast partner Tony Schiavone when Wight intervened, setting up this match.

I was actually kind of into the idea of this until Marshall showed photos of Wight's recent hip surgery. Up to that point, they'd managed to keep me from noticing if Wight could move okay, and I was willing to accept he could do a basic squash match without a problem. But now I just assume he's broken down and he'll need a lot of smoke and mirrors to do even a simple match. Maybe that's the plan, to get me to lower my expectations and be pleasantly surprised. I sure hope it works out.

I'm about 95% sure Wight clobbers QT and just wins handily. There's a chance QT's squad pulls enough shenanigans to get a bullshit win, but I'm not sure what the point would be.

21-woman Casino Battle Royale - This is AEW's funky concept for a gauntlet battle royale. Five women start the match, and then every five minutes another wave of five enters; the 21st entrant gets to come out alone. Eliminations can occur at any time, by exiting the ring over the top rope to the floor. The last woman left after the others have been eliminated is declared the winner, and receives a future title match against the AEW women's champion.

AEW has announced 20 participants: Abadon, Anna Jay, Big Swole, Diamante, Emi Sakura, Hikaru Shida, Jade Cargill, Jamie Hayter, Kiera Hogan, KiLynn King, Leyla Hirsch, Nyla Rose, Penelope Ford, Rebel, Red Velvet, Riho, Skye Blue (a late substitution for Julia Hart), Tay Conti, The Bunny, Thunder Rosa.

The 21st spot has been left open for a surprise. Ruby Soho (formerly Ruby Riott in WWE) is widely expected to join AEW, and this would be a sensible spot for that to happen. But there are other women who could potentially debut here as a swerve.

I always want to pick the surprise entrant to win these things, but they really haven't done all that well in AEW battle royales. I could see them giving the win to, say, Big Swole, and just having Britt Baker beat her a few weeks later on Dynamite. Or Thunder Rosa could win to set up a major program for the next pay-per-view. They have a lot of options, which makes it hard to predict but fun to watch.

Orange Cassidy & Chuck Taylor & Wheeler YUTA & Luchasaurus & Jungle Boy vs. Matt Hardy & Marq Quen & Isiah Kassidy & Jack Evans & Angelico - This is booked for the pre-show. Hardy's heel group has been feuding with most of the midcard babyfaces for months. I don't expect this match will blow off the feud, but it'd be nice if it did so we could move on to something else. Orange's team should probably win.