#lisa gave us so much this series

[aweecrush]

Erin + James I DERRY GIRLS, series 3 - The Agreement

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 4. the others

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Winter begins to wrap its arms around Jackson, filling the town with snow and a nasty flu. Joel takes you to meet Ben and Lisa, and you finally discover more about your past.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, amnesia, sad!joel, pining, sexual tension, slow burn, jealousy

WC: 9K

Series Masterlist

You looked happy.

Ever since you began working at the infirmary, you seemed happier. Like you were grateful to have a purpose. A way to contribute. To give back to the community that supported you.

You smiled more and you didn't shy away from him as much as you used to and it gave Joel hope. Every time you saw him and greeted him with a smile or said goodbye with a squeeze of his shoulder, it made his heart flutter. It's been weeks. Months, technically. But he was making some progress.

It was the first snowfall of the season and it put you in an even better mood than usual. Your face was pressed up against the window as he tended to the fire behind you, and you watched as the big, fluffy flakes of snow fell from the sky, coating Jackson in a perfect blanket of pure white.

"I didn't get much snow where I'm from," you told him over your shoulder. He knew that already, but he humored you.

"That so?"

"Mhmm. When I was a kid, though, we got hit with this freak storm. No one knew what to do. No one owned shovels or snow blowers or any of that, so we were all stuck inside our houses until the storm ended and everything melted," you said, turning away from the window so you could curl up on the couch, then pausing for a moment before tilting your head to the side. "Did I tell you this already?"

Yes, he thought, but he shook his head, eager for you to continue. He just loved hearing you talk, no matter what you said. Besides, if you were expected to rebuild your relationship, sharing your past would naturally be part of that, so he encouraged you to tell stories, even if he's heard them before.

"So, what happened?" he asked, putting the poker back in the stand and getting up with a groan, his knees cracking a bit before he settled in on the other end of the couch.

"Well, the power went out," you said, and he could hear the excitement in your voice, delighted to be telling him something you thought he didn't already know, and it made his heart swell. "So we didn't have any heat or any way to cook our food. We set up camping tents in the middle of our living room and slept in there with, like, five blankets each. And we lived off pop-tarts and granola bars and peanut butter sandwiches for two days til the power came back on."

"Two days?" Joel repeated, and you nodded.

"Yeah, but it was fun. As a kid, you know? I'm sure my parents were freaking out but me and Matty were excited. We played board games and ate by candlelight and told ghost stories," you said wistfully, your eyes looking miles away. "We talked about that for years," you finished softly, and Joel smiled.

"I didn't get much snow where I'm from, either," he told you, and your eyes met his again.

"Texas, right?" and he nodded. "Did you live there your whole life?"

Something deep inside him sparked with a mix of nerves and excitement. It felt like you were meeting all over again, and while it was under less than ideal circumstances, he couldn't help but feel those butterflies you feel when you first meet someone new.

"Yep, my whole life. Tommy, too, except for when he was in the army."

"Were you in the army?" you asked, but he quickly shook his head.

"Nah. Wasn't my scene. Besides, I had Sarah."

"Oh, right," you said, feeling stupid for asking. You dropped your attention to your hands, which were twisted in your lap, as you thought about your next question.

"How old was she?" you asked quietly, still looking down and avoiding his gaze, but you heard him take a deep breath.

"She was twelve when she died," he told you, his words hanging heavy in the air and he could see the conflict in your face as you tried to figure out a way to learn more about him without reopening old wounds. "It's okay, I don't mind talkin' 'bout her."

"Did we used to talk about her?" you asked him curiously, finally looking up to meet his gaze.

He shrugged. "Sometimes. But not at first. Still hurt too much back then, y'know?"

"Yeah," you breathed, your mind now drifting to thoughts of your own family. Were you together when they died? Did you see it? If so, was it some sort of sick twist of luck that you now couldn't remember?

"What was your favorite thing to do together?" you asked, watching as his eyes found a fixed point on the wall while he considered your question.

"My favorite thing was hiking. Hers was goin' to the movies or the mall, most likely," he said with a soft chuckle. "I didn't mind, though. I was just happy she still wanted to be seen with her old man at that age. Makes me wonder if she felt bad for me or somethin'."

You furrowed your brow, confused. "Why would she feel bad for you?"

He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't date much. Had a few poker buddies but I mostly spent my time with Tommy. Just worked so hard back then that I was too tired to do much else."

"And you were a contractor?" you asked, trying to remember the small pieces of information you picked up over the last two months. He nodded.

"Yeah, me and Tommy had our own business. That was a lifetime ago. Can't imagine doin' that kind of work now, not with my back," he said with a smile.

Joel's eyes flicked to the window over your shoulder, watching as the snow continued to come down, the window panes growing foggy in the corners. "Looks like we ain't goin' anywhere for a while," he said, changing the subject. You followed his gaze and nodded.

"What about Ellie? Is she okay back there?"

"Yeah, she'll be alright. She could make it up to the house if she got too cold," he assured you.

So, you were essentially snowed in. All alone.

You could feel his eyes on you as you watched the fire and you wondered if he was thinking about an alternate reality. One where you didn't have an accident. Where you remembered everything. One where you loved him the way he so obviously loved you, and what you might be doing differently in that very moment. You had a feeling your hunch was correct because he stretched his arm across the back of the couch and subtly inched a little closer towards you, the worn cushions dipping from his weight and causing your leg to bob.

Your body stiffened and your heart suddenly felt like it was being crushed in your throat. He was so patient, you had to give him credit. It couldn't be easy for him, and although you could finally admit to yourself that you found him attractive, you still didn't think you trusted him enough to take things any further. Not yet. Not when you still had so many questions. Your eyes drifted up to meet his and as you expected, he was watching you closely. Carefully. Trying to read you the same way you were trying to read him. The problem was, every time he looked at you that way, with his eyes all soft and filled with adoration, you could only think about what he was hiding. What did he lie about? And why was he so hesitant for you to meet Ben and Lisa?

Joel leaned in a fraction and his fingers tightened their hold on the back of the couch. He wanted to kiss you. He's wanted to kiss you ever since that day in the field right before that clicker ruined the moment. And with the soft glow from the fire and the snow falling silently outside, it felt like the perfect moment. He was terrified of making things worse after he finally felt like he made some progress, but it was killing him. He missed having you so fucking much, sometimes it felt like it actually caused him physical pain. Like his chest would explode one day.

He swallowed nervously and inched a little closer and you panicked. Just as he was about to say something, you cut him off.

"Do you wanna play a board game?"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and you gave him a nervous smile.

"Sure," he replied, watching as you jumped off the couch to look through the games stacked on the bookcase. He groaned inwardly and rubbed his chin when you bent over and he had to force himself to look away before his body reacted, praying you didn't pick Twister.

It took two days but the snow finally stopped. Ellie did eventually make her way to the house by the second day, simply because she was bored, so you helped Joel make a vegetable soup while Ellie set up the Monopoly board in the living room. You didn't have all the pieces, but you had enough, and what you didn't have you supplemented with buttons.

You didn't realize it; too caught up in cooking and the joy it used to bring you, but you and Joel worked together seamlessly in the kitchen. He chopped up zucchini while you diced onion and watched the pot on the stove that was cooking up noodles, slipping past each other to get to the sink and the cupboards and it all just felt so fucking normal that it made his chest ache. He wanted to draw your attention to it. He wanted to take you by the shoulders and say See? See how good we are together? But he didn't. He bit his tongue and bided his time until you came to that conclusion on your own, just like the first time.

But the first time was different. At least back then, you showed him affection. You kissed him and held him and shared your body with him and although you didn't want much more, not at first, eventually you did. And those moments in his bed were enough to hold him over until you opened your eyes and saw what was right in front of you.

He was selfish. He knew it was wrong to want you like that right now, but he wanted all of you, not just physically. He yearned to know what was going on behind your eyes, what you were thinking and feeling. What you thought of him. But if you would maybe just let yourself fall asleep in his arms on the couch while you read in front of the fire, or let him kiss you, just once, then maybe you would see it again. Feel it again.

"What the hell does a purple button mean?" you asked with a giggle, holding up the smooth, round plastic between your fingers.

"It's a hotel, duh!" Ellie said, grinning and rolling her eyes.

"Wait, why am I goin' to jail?"

"You rolled doubles three times in a row!" you told him, and you and Ellie bent over laughing at the confused expression on his face.

He made a disgruntled noise and moved his token to the corner of the board as he watched you and Ellie giggling and wiping tears from your eyes and fuck, it was nice. In another world, he would have made some joke about you being the one in handcuffs and maybe later he would have followed through with it and tied your wrists to the headboard, burying his face between your thighs until you couldn't take it anymore.

But instead, he just watched two of the people he loved most in the world have fun, the orange glow from the fire flickering over your smiling faces while the snow finally came to a stop outside.

Ellie had trekked back to the garage once the game was over. It was late, you looked tired, but he still suggested putting a movie on. He wasn't ready to let you go. He hated going to bed all alone. You seemed to consider his offer for a moment before you shook your head and yawned, and although he knew that would likely be your answer, he still felt his heart sink.

He walked you to your bedroom and as he was about to say goodnight, hoping to minimize the hurt by making it quick, you did something that surprised him. You pulled him into a hug, standing on your tiptoes, your chin resting on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck, body pressed firmly against his and just as quickly as it happened, you pulled away. Joel was so stunned he wasn't sure he hugged you back, even though he stood cemented to the floor well after you went to bed, replaying the hug over and over, all he could remember was how he felt. And he went to bed that night with renewed hope blooming in his chest. Maybe you were finally coming around.

So the next morning when you asked him out of the blue if you could visit Ben and Lisa once the streets cleared of snow, he had a hard time finding a reason to say no. He should have known you wouldn't let it go, but he did hold out hope that maybe you moved on from the idea since it had been a few weeks when you last mentioned them.

He agreed, of course, not wanting to ruin the delicate foundation of your relationship. Besides, he already decided he would go with you and make sure they didn't tell you anything you weren't ready to hear.

The snow had melted enough where the road was visible again, but the snowbanks still piled high around the buildings and houses and you felt strangely nervous as you followed Joel down the street. He had finally agreed to take you to meet Ben and Lisa, and while you were grateful he didn't have the reaction he had the first time you mentioned them, you still wondered what caused that outburst.

You tried to convince yourself that maybe he was just tired and cranky that day, having just gotten back from patrol for the fourth day in a row. But something still felt... off.

"Wow, when Ellie said they lived on the outskirts, she wasn't kidding," you said, realizing you were reaching an edge of Jackson you had yet to explore.

"Yeah, they tend to keep to themselves," he replied without further explanation. He didn't seem agitated, but he definitely wasn't happy about going to see them. He seemed more quiet and subdued than usual.

Finally, you arrived at a quaint looking cottage tucked back from the road a ways. Like Ellie had said, it was small, but it looked cozy. You could see the smoke pluming from the chimney and you couldn't wait to warm up again.

There was no porch. Just a small roof over the front door and a folding chair that looked like it had seen better days. He knocked firmly on the door and after a moment, you heard light shuffling on the other side.

The door cracked open and you were greeted by a short woman around your age with dull, brown hair and bright green eyes. She saw Joel first and, like most people in town, she hesitated. But then she noticed you next to him and her expression changed. A wide smile stretched across her face and she said your name softly, then held her arms out for a hug.

"It's so good to see you," she said in your ear, giving you a tight squeeze before turning around and ushering you both inside. "Come in, come in, it's freezing out there. Ben! You'll never guess who's here!"

You both stepped inside and as you were slipping off your outerwear, you glanced around the small space. It was tight, but it was filled with warmth. The living room had two small, mismatched loveseats on either side of the stone fireplace. Two large bookshelves that were filled with so many books that the shelves were sagging stood on either side of the fire, and curiously you didn't notice a television anywhere in the room.

You heard a man's deep voice behind you say your name and you jumped in surprise. Turning around, you were pulled into another hug by who you could only assume was Ben. He was tall - taller than Joel - and you wondered how on earth such a small house could fit such a large man. He stepped away, his dark eyes glittering with his hands still on your shoulders, taking in your appearance as if you haven't seen them in years.

Maybe you haven't.

You were so focused on absorbing every little detail about the house and its residents that you didn't notice Joel's body stiffen next to you, his eyes glued to Ben's hands. And while Lisa seemed to have the same reaction to Joel that everyone else in town did, Ben, on the other hand, did not seem phased by his presence. In fact, he appeared pleased to see him. Once he dropped his hands from your shoulders, he stretched out a lanky arm and shook Joel's hand, giving him a kind smile which Joel had a hard time returning.

"What a wonderful surprise. Come, let's sit. Do you want coffee or tea?" Ben asked, his eyes drifting between you and Joel. You both shook your heads and Ben smiled warmly at you once again. Even though the living room was just a few feet away from the front door, Ben still rested his hand on your shoulder and guided you to one of the loveseats as if you might lose your way, only dropping his hold on you when he sat down across from you on the other one.

Joel eased himself down on the couch beside you, the space so small that he had no choice but to rest his leg against yours, and Lisa went to join Ben, the crackling fire between both loveseats warming you up right away.

"We heard you had an accident. How are you feeling?" Lisa asked, her voice so small and gentle compared to Ben's booming baritone.

"Better, thanks. But it's kind of why I'm here," you said, glancing over at Joel nervously, but he was staring silently at Ben, who still seemed unaffected.

Lisa tilted her head to the side and wrapped a hand around Ben's forearm, leaning into him a bit as she got more comfortable on the couch. You noticed for the first time a basket on the floor next to her feet filled with different colored yarn and half knitted projects tucked inside. "Oh?" she asked, then it seemed to dawn on her. "Oh! Is it... is it true? Do you really have memory loss?"

When you nodded, you noticed the flicker of pity across both their faces as they exchanged a somber look.

"I can only remember my life before the outbreak. My mom, dad and brother. I don't even remember what happened or how they died or how I managed to survive," you began, feeling yourself growing a little emotional. Joel must have sensed it in your tone because he squeezed your knee reassuringly, and when you glanced over at him, he had finally torn his eyes away from Ben to look at you with concern.

"It's been hard," Joel said, finally speaking up, addressing Ben and Lisa. "Lots of confusion, lots of missin' pieces. But she kept a journal. Turns out, she wrote 'bout you two, so that's why we're here," he finished, narrowing his eyes a bit at them.

"You wrote about us? How sweet," Ben said cheerily, running a hand through his dark blonde curls.

"Yes, but-"

"It wasn't anythin' that detailed," Joel said quickly, and you frowned at him. He sat back into the sofa and glanced over at you. "Right?"

"Yeah," you said slowly, dragging your eyes away from Joel and back to your hosts. "Just that we went fishing and it felt like old times," you continued, and they both smiled at the memory. The only sound in the room was the fire next to you, the wood popping loudly under the flames as you weighed your next question. "So I was hoping you might help tell me about myself before we arrived in Jackson. Is that... okay?"

Lisa shifted in her seat, a small smile still twitching at her lips as she gazed up at Ben, waiting for him to reply. He hesitated a moment and you thought you saw his eyes flicker to Joel before responding.

"Of course," Ben said, slapping the tops of his thighs, jostling loose Lisa's grip on his arm. He quickly picked her hand back up and brought her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss, but your eyes were drawn to the unfamiliar symbol tattooed on the inside of her wrist, only made visible when Ben picked up her arm and her sleeve hung down.

"Can you tell me about when we first met?" you asked, figuring you should start at the beginning.

"Oh, what was it? Six or eight months after the outbreak, yeah?" Ben wondered aloud, looking to Lisa to confirm. She nodded and scratched her neck.

"Sounds about right."

You allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of excitement. There were two people right in front of you that could help fill in the blanks for the first five years after the outbreak, and you couldn't wait to hear more.

"We met in the Atlanta QZ," he began, but you quickly stopped him.

"QZ?"

"Quarantine Zone. All the major cities had 'em. Was meant to keep people safe from infected but the military ran most of 'em into the ground," Joel explained. "Treated people like cattle. Strict curfews. Barely enough rations to survive."

"It was awful," Lisa added solemnly.

"Was I alone?" you asked them, and Ben nodded. "Did I tell you anything about my family? How they died?"

Their eyes shifted to Joel for a moment before looking at one another.

"I thought you had said the infected got your mom on the first day. But your dad and brother..." Ben trailed off, looking down at his hands sadly. "They got caught out after curfew. It happened before we got there. They... were punished."

You frowned a little, looking to Joel to help shed some light on what Ben meant, but he was staring down at his feet.

"Punished?" you squeaked as your heart began to pound faster in your chest.

"Punishment for bein' out after curfew was death," Joel spoke up softly next to you.

You looked at all three of them, your eyes wide in disbelief. "Death? The military were killing people?"

"It was horrible. It's why we escaped," Lisa replied with tears in her eyes.

"Okay, then what?" you pressed, trying not to dwell too long on the thought of your father and brother being murdered by the very people who were supposed to protect them.

"After we escaped?" Ben clarified, and you nodded. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. "We survived. Did what we had to do."

There it was again. Did what we had to do. The same thing Joel said when you brought up Lisa and Ben the first time.

You waited for him to elaborate but when it became apparent Ben had finished talking, you pushed him further. "Like what? What does that mean?"

"We laid low. Found some secluded spots in the wilderness and stuck it out for as long as we could," Lisa said, her eyes casually drifting between the two men. You looked at Joel, who was holding a steady glare at Ben and Lisa, but otherwise he was perfectly silent.

"For five years we just laid low? In the woods? The three of us?" you asked, and they could tell you knew they weren't telling you the whole truth. "What aren't you telling me? Did we do something bad? Did something happen?"

Joel shifted in his seat next to you but you kept your eyes pinned on Lisa and Ben, trying to read the expressions on their faces.

Ben was the first to fold. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours and gave you a half smile and shrug. "Yeah. I mean, everyone did bad things one time or another. It's impossible not to-"

"Like what?" you demanded. You could feel your anger building up now. "I'm not a child. Just tell me."

Ben sighed and looked at Joel once again, and this time you had enough.

"Why do you keep looking at him?"

Ben's eyes snapped back to you and he forced out a small chuckle, trying in vain to diffuse the tension in the room.

"You're our guests, so I'm looking at you both."

You weren't going to argue with him when it was clear he was looking at Joel for direction on what to say. It all made sense now. No wonder Joel didn't fight you on coming to visit them. He had planned all along to control the conversation and keep you in the dark and something inside you snapped.

Standing up from the couch suddenly, you looked down at Ben and Lisa, anger brimming in your eyes.

"Thanks," you spat, heading towards the front door. "Sorry to bother you both."

"It's no bother," Lisa said, her voice wavering as she followed you to the door. "Really. Stop by any time, it was nice to see you."

You scoffed and resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you shoved your boots and coat back on, doing your best to finish before Joel so you could get a head start back home.

Flinging open the door without another word, you took a deep breath and stormed down the street, the chilly winter air filling your lungs, trying to cool your anger from the inside out. But then you heard Joel's heavy footsteps crunching in the snow, hurrying to catch up to you, and your rage peaked again.

"You alright?" he asked when he found his place back by your side.

"No, I'm not alright," you seethed, staring straight ahead with your arms wrapped around your middle. "What was that back there?"

"What'dya mean?"

You skidded to a stop and glared at him, his cheeks pink from the cold and his chest rising and falling a little quicker than usual.

"You know what I mean. I'm not stupid, Joel. What don't you want me to know?"

He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out how to respond.

"I'm not-"

"Don't bullshit me!" you yelled, and when you remembered you were in the middle of the street, you lowered your voice. "They were clearly scared of you. You didn't want them to tell me something. It was so obvious, Joel! I hit my head but I'm not fucking blind."

"I didn't ask them to say or not say anythin'," he said truthfully.

You stared at one another, both watching as your exhale mixed together, little clouds swirling in between you before rising above your heads and disappearing, each waiting for the other to break first.

"Maybe I should move out," you finally said, voice filled with sadness. His face fell instantly.

"Why?"

"You know why. I don't think I can trust you. How can I, when I can't even get a simple answer out of you?" What did he lie about?

If you had stabbed him in the chest, it would have hurt less. His gaze fell to the ground and he felt his throat begin to constrict. He had to do something. He couldn't lose you. So he told you a half truth.

"You and Ben used to be a thing," he said, and your jaw dropped in surprise.

"What?"

He clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes. "Before you came to Jackson. You and him were a couple."

You looked away from him, taking a minute to wrap your mind around what he just told you. You supposed it would make sense. It would explain why Joel was so weird about bringing you to see them. Maybe you misread the tension in the room. Maybe the tension was about something else entirely.

"That's why you were acting so strange? That's why you were staring him down?" you asked. His answer was still difficult to believe. It explained Joel's behavior, but it didn't explain what bad things you had done and why nobody seemed willing to tell you what they were.

He shrugged and rubbed his hands together. "Can we talk about this at home? I'm freezin'," he said.

The walk afforded you more time to think now that you had this new piece of the puzzle. Ben did seem like your type: he was handsome and kind, but if you and Ben were together in the past, where did that leave Lisa? They were clearly an item now. Wouldn't that have made for a strange relationship between the three of you? Perhaps that's why you didn't see them often.

Joel let you stew in silence for the walk home, fucking praying what he told you would be enough to keep you from following through with your threat. Why did it feel like every time he made some progress with you, something happened that fucked everything up?

Maybe he should have just let them tell you the whole truth.

No, that would have been bad. You didn't trust him enough yet. You said it yourself. And if you were willing to move out over something like this, you certainly would never speak to him again if you knew the whole story.

He needed to earn your trust first but it was so fucking hard when you wouldn't let him in. When you found out the truth the first time, you were already months into a relationship with him. You were already sleeping together, and while it didn't evolve into anything more until later, it still helped build your trust in him when he finally told you the truth.

He didn't have that with you now, and for the first time he began to doubt his ability to make you fall in love with him again.

You huddled in front of the fire after the long walk home, the two of you remaining silent the entire way. Joel was in the kitchen, most likely avoiding you and your questions while you warmed up. You weren't even going to bother bringing up the topic again, but Joel surprised you by doing it himself.

"I'm sorry. 'Bout earlier," he said from the entryway. You turned from the fire to look at him. He looked worried. His eyes were wide and his brow was knit while his hands fidgeted at his sides.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, and he sighed.

"Dunno. Guess I was hopin' you'd let it go or change your mind," he said, ticking his jaw to the side.

"What would it have even mattered? I don't remember him, I don't remember what we had together. I certainly don't have feelings for him," you told him, sitting down on the couch and tucking your legs underneath you.

He looked around the room nervously as you waited for an answer that wasn't coming.

You sighed and rubbed your eyes. "If this is going to work, you need to be honest with me-"

"I was scared, alright?" he said abruptly. You watched him hang his head between his shoulders and take a deep breath before collapsing into the arm chair next to the couch. "I was scared you'd maybe remember him or..." he trailed off, finding it difficult to put into words what he was thinking. And although it wasn't the whole truth, it still was the truth. He was afraid this version of you would want someone like Ben and not like him.

He was afraid of losing you.

You seemed to understand because you didn't ask him to finish his thought. Instead, since he was opening up, you asked him something else that was bothering you.

"What did I do?"

He looked at you curiously, not following at first until you continued.

"Ben said I did bad things. We all did bad things to survive. What did he mean?"

Joel swallowed and thought about his answer for a moment. You sighed, growing impatient.

"You can't keep the truth from me forever. I'll find out one day, just tell -"

"You killed people," he told you, and you completely lost your train of thought. You searched his face as all of the air rushed out of your lungs, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

"I killed people?" you repeated, your voice barely a whisper, and he nodded slowly. You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes but you blinked them away. What kind of monster did you become?

"Innocent people?"

"Depends on who you ask," he said right away, almost as if he expected that question.

"What does that mean?"

He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully as he stared into the fire. "I told you. Everyone did what they had to do in order to survive. I know it's hard for you to understand what it was like, but there were a lot of bad people out there. A lot of bad fuckin' people. The military was outta control. There were revolutions and raiders and slavers." He paused and sniffed a bit, continuing to stare into the flames while you hung on his every word. "When I say you killed people... it ain't black and white. I killed people, too. Alotta people. When the whole goddamn world ends and all you got left is one or two people you care 'bout, you'll do whatever you gotta do to protect 'em. D'you understand?" he asked, finally dragging his eyes up to look at you.

You blinked, thinking about what he said, his words rolling around your head like pinballs.

"I think so," you said quietly.

He nodded, still pinning you with his stare. "We all made decisions. We made choices based on what we knew at the time and we did our best."

You nodded, your voice wavering a bit when you asked "Am I a bad person, Joel?"

His eyebrows pinched together and he leaned forward in his chair, wanting to reach out to you, comfort you and pull you into his arms, but he refrained. "No, baby. You ain't a bad person," he told you softly.

And you weren't sure why, but you believed him.

The streets were quiet as you slowly made your way to the infirmary. You didn't start your shift until late in the morning and you didn't feel like joining Ellie at the dining hall for breakfast, so you stayed home, only getting out of bed when you heard Joel leave for patrol. He had already warned you the night before that he would be back later than usual due to the storm. Trails would likely be difficult to pass and nobody could predict if there would be damage at any of the outposts, but it was highly likely.

You didn't move out like you had threatened to. You didn't even know what you were thinking when you said that. Where would you have gone? The garage with Ellie? You didn't know anybody else. Not really. But even if you had, you saw the look in Joel's face when you said those words and even though you were so fucking angry with him, you still felt terrible for causing him pain.

On one hand, it seemed like he was just looking out for you, but on the other, his actions often came off as selfish. You had every right to know your past and what you did, and you were growing sick of Joel treating you like a child. Like you were too fragile to understand.

But at least you got it out of him. Even though you had to take extreme measures, you finally got him to tell you something truthful, and that was a positive step forward.

Lost in your thoughts, you weren't even paying attention when a man's voice called your name from across the street. You looked up after the third try and were surprised to find Ben waving to you from the tailor. You raised your hand in greeting and made your way over to the building.

"Hey," you said a little sheepishly, "about the other day, I'm sorry for how I acted-"

He shook his head and gave you a reassuring smile. "No need to apologize. All of this has to be so confusing for you. We understand."

You dropped your gaze to the frozen ground and dug your boot into the snow. "Thank you, I appreciate that. It's very frustrating, actually. I'm just trying to learn about myself and what's happened in the past ten years and I guess I took out my anger on you guys."

He waved you off and leaned against the doorframe of the tailor. "Don't worry about it. We were just happy to see you again."

And even though Ben was absolving you of your guilt, you somehow felt even worse. He was being so nice and you hardly felt like you deserved it. "Joel explained it to me, by the way. After we left your house he told me about us," you said, waving your finger back and forth between you.

"Ah," Ben said with a knowing smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I wondered as much. It was a very long time ago but Joel can be..." Ben trailed off and scratched his chin, "he can be a little protective, I suppose. He never really understood the nature our relationship."

You tilted your head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"It was just casual. He always thought there was something more," Ben said, meeting your eye. "But I promise you, there wasn't. At the time, we were just lonely and scared and looking for comfort. Neither of us was looking for anything more than that."

You nodded thoughtfully. "He did say we were a couple," you said, and Ben chuckled softly.

"I wouldn't even call it that. Truly. There were no hurt feelings. We just never had a connection past... y'know," he said with a shrug. You felt yourself flush a bit at the words he left unspoken and looked away. "But I'm glad he told you."

"Yeah, me too. I know his heart is in the right place, I just wish he would have told me about us and all the shit we did before I came to see you. Probably would have made the visit a little more pleasant," you said with a laugh, but Ben's face fell.

"He told you about what we did?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious. You sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, he told me I've killed people. It's been really hard to wrap my head around, but I'm trying to come to terms with it. He explained the world we live in now is not like the one I remember."

Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise and unfolded his arms. "Wow. I'm kind of shocked he told you about us and the Fireflies. That must have been really hard for you both."

You frowned and searched his face. "Fireflies?"

His body stiffened and his face paled when he realized his mistake. "Yeah. He told you about the Fireflies, right?"

You shook your head. "What are the Fireflies?"

"Shit," he muttered, pushing himself off the wall abruptly and clearing his throat. "I should get back to work. Just please forget I said anything, okay?"

"Ben, wait," you tried, but he disappeared back inside the tailor, leaving you standing in front of the door while more questions piled up.

There seemed to be a bad flu being spread around town because the infirmary was busier than usual. You were grateful for the distraction, especially after your conversation with Ben. You had spent the better part of the afternoon rushing from exam room to exam room, cleaning up after each patient as quickly as you could so Nick could continue treating the revolving door of people coughing and sneezing in the waiting room. Nick had recommended you wear a bandana around your mouth and nose to hopefully keep you healthy, but you had a feeling it would just be a matter of time before you caught the same bug as everyone else. Still, you kept the bandana tied around your neck as you worked diligently. What you didn't expect, however, was the bit of anonymity the mask afforded you.

You were cleaning up exam room six when you heard a woman's familiar voice in the room across the hall. Nick had left the door cracked open after he ushered her inside, and she apparently had another woman in there waiting with her as you started to pick up on hushed pieces of their conversation.

You didn't intend to eavesdrop, but curiosity got the best of you when you tried to place her voice, and when you realized it was Angie, your hands froze and your body stilled, doing your best to not make any noise so you could listen.

"... going down there almost every night... matter of time... him."

"But what about... freak out."

You frowned, inching closer to the door as you tried to fill in the gaps in their conversation.

Then you heard Angie say your name clear as day and your eyebrows shot up. You pressed your back against the wall and held your breath.

"She doesn't even like him. That relationship is a ticking time bomb."

You silently gasped when you realized they were most certainly talking about you and Joel.

It wasn't even true. You liked Joel. You were attracted to Joel. You were even starting to trust Joel a little more, although you definitely had plans to ask him about the Fireflies. But you were still getting to know him and it was taking time. Was this girl talking about trying to steal Joel away from you? The idea made your stomach turn and anger flare deep in your chest.

You shocked yourself with your reaction. Steal Joel away? Since when did you begin to feel some sense of ownership over him? Were you jealous?

You heard Nick's voice leaving an exam room a few doors down and you quickly made yourself look busy. He sighed tiredly in the hallway as he flipped through some papers before pushing open the door to Angie's room. You were changing the bedding on the mattress when you heard Nick call your name and you quickly dropped the sheets to cross the hall.

When your eyes locked with Angie's, giving her a hardened stare, you swore you saw a flicker of fear before she forced a fake smile and coughed into her fist while her friend, one you recognized from the bathroom at the Tipsy Bison, nervously shifted her weight and looked away. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction when it became clear to the two girls that you had heard everything they said, and you were grateful you had your mask on so they couldn't see the corners of your mouth twitch.

"Would you mind grabbing a bag of cough drops and a jar of menthol from the supply cabinet?" Nick asked, completely oblivious to the shift in the air.

"Sure thing," you told him, turning on your heel to leave and allowing yourself to finally smile.

Joel might scare the rest of the town, but you sure as hell scared the shit out of Angie.

Your shift at the infirmary went longer than expected. By the time you arrived home, you were exhausted and the sun was almost setting. So far you weren't feeling sick, but from what you had overheard all day, the symptoms came on quick, so you had already decided to call it an early night and get some rest. When you swung open the front door and found Joel hunched over the kitchen table, your plans went flying out the window.

He looked like he was on death's door. You had never seen him look so run down and pale. He didn't even open his eyes to look at you, he just kept them shut while he rubbed his temples and tried to stifle a cough, his backpack abandoned at his feet.

"Joel?" you called, toeing off your boots and hurrying over to him. You crouched down on the floor and pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. "You're burning up."

He groaned and cracked open one eye. "Feel like shit. Dunno what happened."

"There's a bad virus spreading around, the infirmary was slammed today," you said, pushing yourself up onto your aching feet to get him a glass of water. "Drink this and I'll heat you up some soup," you told him before heading towards the stove.

"You don't gotta-"

"Drink," you said firmly, cutting him off. He winced before picking up the glass and forcing down the cool liquid. Once you got the gas going on the stove, you grabbed an empty bowl and shoved your boots back on. "I'll be right back," you told him. He sat up a little straighter in his chair, about to ask where you were going but you already disappeared through the front door, returning seconds later with the bowl filled with snow.

"Lean back," you instructed, placing the bowl on the table. He did as he was told and closed his eyes, the lights from the kitchen ceiling making his head ache but when you pressed a handful of packed snow against his forehead, he groaned with relief.

"Oh shit, that feels good," he whispered as you tried to ignore the twinge between your legs at his low tone. He released a shaky breath and you watched as the snow began to melt, little trails of water dripping from his hair and down his scruffy cheeks. When it was nearly melted, you took your hand away and dumped the remnants in the sink, grabbing a towel and drying your hands on the way back. You pinched his stubbly chin delicately in your fingers and tipped his head towards you while slowly and gently wiping away the water from his face. When you finished, your eyes found his already boring into you and you felt a tingle shoot down your spine.

"Better?"

His gaze softened as he continued to stare up at you, searching your face quietly, making your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. You swallowed nervously and forced yourself to look away, and it was then he finally realized you had asked him a question.

"Yes," he murmured, "thank you."

You dragged your eyes back to his and gave him a small smile. "More?"

He didn't trust himself to speak. He just slowly nodded and watched with heavy lidded eyes as you scooped up another handful of snow. With your free hand, you slid your fingers behind his neck and through his hair, cupping the back of his head in your small hand before pressing the snow gently against his forehead once again. And even though he wanted to keep looking at you, he couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering shut at the cooling sensation, earning you another deep groan from his throat and causing your breath to stutter.

He heard it and opened his eyes.

You stared at each other, lips parted as the air began to thicken with tension. His eyes flickered over your face, noticing the way your pupils appeared bigger as you gazed down at him. He took a risk and slowly brought his hand up to rest on your side, watching you carefully for any sign that he should stop. He pressed his fingertips lightly into your hip, the fabric of your shirt bunching up slightly from the pressure.

You dropped your eyes to his hand and blinked rapidly, then opened your mouth to speak when you heard sizzling at the stove. You whipped your head around just as his soup began to boil over the pot.

"Shit!" you yelped, dropping the half melted snow onto the towel and racing over to the range. You twisted the knob off and put the pot on one of the unused burners and the liquid immediately simmered back down. "Sorry," you said, refusing to look at him as you started to gather a bowl and spoon, embarrassment burning your cheeks.

"Don't be," he replied, still leaning back in his chair in the same position you left him. He watched you fumble nervously in the kitchen and he had to suppress a smile.

Maybe he still had a chance, after all.

Joel's temperature was a little high but nothing too concerning, so you pushed the fluids and he ate all of his soup and it helped put your mind at ease. You really didn't want to have to ask for ibuprofen unless it was absolutely necessary, especially considering how the same virus was hitting almost every house at the same time. You made sure to check on Ellie from her doorway, not wanting to risk her catching anything since she appeared to be fine, before helping Joel up to bed.

Once you followed him into the room and he turned on the light next to his bed, you realized you hadn't actually ever entered his bedroom before. Sure, you've walked past it when the door was open and glanced inside, but you never really looked. As he gathered some fresh pajamas and began to unbutton his flannel, you turned your back to him to give him some privacy and examined his bookshelf. Your eyes drifted over the titles on the spines of a handful of books, most of which you hadn't heard of before noticing a framed photograph sharing a shelf with his books. It was faded and a little torn, but you could still make out their faces. It was Joel - a far younger version of Joel - with his arm around a beautiful little girl with dark hair and eyes and a stunning smile. You felt your throat tighten when you realized who it was, and if you had any doubt, Joel's voice piped up behind you.

"That's Sarah."

You heard him shuffling his bedding around so you figured he was dressed.

"She's beautiful, Joel," you said, walking over to his side of the bed and popping the thermometer under his tongue one more time. "It's wonderful that you were able to find a picture of her. I wish I had some pictures of my family," you said sadly, watching the hands of the clock on top of his bookshelf tick, counting down the seconds until you could check the thermometer. "I would have loved for you to at least see them. I think you would have gotten along with my brother really well. Maybe too well," you added with a soft laugh, not realizing he was silently hanging on your every word as you continued to stare at the clock. "He was always looking out for me. Always protecting me, trying to shield me and it drove me nuts when I was younger, but as time went on, I understood it a bit more."

You pulled the thermometer out and checked the number. "Still the same," you told him, resting it on his nightstand.

"How much time?" he asked, and you gave him a confused look. "How much time did it take 'til you started to understand?" he clarified, and you realized what he was really asking.

"I don't know," you replied honestly, sitting on the edge of his bed with a sigh. "But I'm starting to... understand," you said, giving him a sideways glance. You really wanted to ask him about the Fireflies but seeing how sick he was, you decided to bring it up another time. His hand slipped out from underneath the covers and gently squeezed your knee.

"That's good," he said softly before furrowing his brow and turning his head to cough loudly into his pillow. You winced at how bad it sounded and rubbed his upper back. When the coughing fit passed, you handed him his water and he took a grateful sip.

"Do you need anything else before I go to bed?"

"Could you stay here?" he found himself asking before he could even think. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you struggled to answer. "Just 'til I fall asleep?"

"Oh," you replied, looking awkwardly around his rather sparse room. "Sure, let me just go wash up," you said, standing up from his bed. You were dead on your feet from your shift at work and you knew the next day wouldn't be any better, but you felt bad saying no, so you changed your clothes and grabbed one of the books Joel had found for you before dragging the chair from the corner of his room to the side of his bed.

"You can stretch out over there," he told you, pointing weakly to the other side of the bed before coughing into his closed fist. "I won't bite."

You smiled as you settled into the chair. "I'm alright, thanks," you said, opening your book and leaning back, trying to get comfortable. After a few minutes of reading, you looked up just to find him still watching you. You laughed and said "you need to get some rest if you want to kick this thing," then he grinned and finally closed his eyes.

You may not have been in bed with him, but you were close enough to help him relax and for the first time in months, he fell fast asleep within minutes.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[chocolatemilk-77]

Yandere Genshin Harem with Sick Darling (Part I: Mondstadt)

This was originally supposed to just be a little imagine of a harem with a sick Darling, but then it started getting super long so I went “hey, not not make it a small series?” I plan on making a Liyue part and an Inazuma part, and possibly one last bonus part at the end.

Other Parts: Part II: Liyue (in progress), Part III: Inazuma (in progress)

(a bit of yandere content ahead, nothing dark, all the Genshin characters are just super clingy and/or protective, Darling is gender neutral with they/them pronouns, the characters are definitely ooc because I don’t know how to write their personalities especially Eula)

You love your friends, you really do, but you wish they would give you a bit of space.

You’re resting at the Cathedral, wrapped in blankets with Barbara rushing off to grab more things you need while Rosaria is trying to get her to calm down.

Amber is hand feeding you and trying to keep your spirits high, Lisa is holding you and telling you to get some rest, Kaeya is being Kaeya and is teasing you on how adorable you look all swaddled up, Eula is demanding to know who you’ve been interacting with recently so she can take vengeance upon whoever gave you their disease.

“I appreciate the concern, but it’s just a fever. I can still take care of myself,” you sniff. Your nasally voice doesn’t do much to ease their worries.

“Even if it is “just a fever,” you’re still sick and need to rest! Now, come on, open up!” Amber holds a fork of steak near your mouth, adamant on not letting you lift a finger.

You’re about to protest, only to be cut of by a coughing fit. Lisa’s hand rubs circles on your back. “Now now, there’s no need to be so stubborn. Just let us take care of you.”

You have to admit, that steak does smell really good, and you haven’t eaten much today. So you open your mouth and let your teeth sink into the delectable meal. “That’s more like it.” Kaeya’s fingers run through your hair. “See? Isn’t it much easier when you do as you’re told?”

“Enough of your nonsense.” Eula waves away Kaeya’s hand and stands close to you. Her face is mere inches away from yours, and her eyes are swirling with bridled rage. “I will repeat this one last time; who dare pollute you with their disgusting virus?”

“No one, it’s just—“

“More blankets, more pillows, fresh water- oh no! I forgot the soup!” Barbara quickly drops the items she brought you before backing away again. “I’m so sorry! I’ll be right back—!”

“There’s no need for that.” Rosaria’s voice brings Barbara to a halt. “They have more than enough food right here. Your skills would be put to better use by ensuring their comfort.”

“Oh, you’re right!” Immediately, Barbara is at your side, holding both of your hands in hers. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you until you recover!”

Even as everyone fusses over you, your attention keeps diverting back to Diluc and Jean. There’s a clear tension between them as they bicker between themselves.

“The knights are more than capable of taking care of them. Your services are appreciated, but not needed.”

“My maids are much more well equipped when it comes to matters such as this. Their every beck and call will be answered, and they’ll have all the comforts of home.”

“I am not doubting your maids’ abilities to care for their attendants. However, with Klee’s recent departure to retrieve Albedo, I’m certain the knights can handle this.”

Each word that spills out is laced with venom. Scowls on their faces, it’s a bit of a surprise neither has raised their voice yet.

“Huh?” Amber hums in confusion as you stand up, letting the blankets fall from your shoulders. “Where are you heading?”

“Just getting some fresh air,” you reply. “I appreciate you guys helping me, I really do, but trust me when I say it’s not that big of a deal.” You try to ignore the dizziness you feel as a consequence of standing up too quickly, only for your balance to be regained with the help of Lisa.

“Be careful now, cutie,” she playfully coos, though you catch a hint of concern in her words.

“Wait, I’ll come with you! Just in case, you know?” Amber excitedly bounds next to you, pulling you into an embrace. “Come on!” She cheerfully tugs you along, leading you to the exit of the Cathedral while Barbara worriedly tries to catch up, voicing her protests.

“Hold it.” Diluc’s voice stops Amber right as she opens the door.

“What do you think you’re doing? You could risk their condition worsening,” he continues.

Despite recently being in an argument with him, Jean nods in agreement. “Yes. Our best option would be to keep them inside so they have the chance to properly recover.”

“Oh come on. It’s just some fresh air!” Amber defends.

One second. They had taken their attention off of you for one second, and all of a sudden, you’re being snatched away. They’re all able to catch it, but only Diluc and Jean recognize the green blur.

“That bard,” Diluc growls before giving chase, with everyone else quickly following suit.

The one currently carrying you breezes through Mondstadt, knocking over anyone and everyone in their path. You’re faintly able to hear the calls of your concerned caretakers.

“How dare you!”

“Release them at once!”

“Please, come back!”

Suddenly, they fly upwards, and you and your captor disappear from sight.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So sorry I whisked you away without warning! You just looked like you needed a bit of space!” Venti’s singsongy tone made it hard to believe he was actually sorry.

You groan, too fatigued from your sudden abduction to really pay attention to anything as you’re carried into the branches of a large tree. The Archon sits down and puts you on his lap. A cool gust of wind makes you shiver, and sink even further into his embrace. You rest against his chest and he relishes in your touch.

Soon, he starts singing a soft melody. Any tension in your body is melted away and your eyes begin to droop.

“They’re not gonna be too happy about this, you know,” you quietly mumble. Your concerns are silenced as Venti rubs your back.

The soothing lullaby doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’re asleep. He takes a moment to admire your relaxed expression, gently caressing your cheek.

“There’s no need to worry, my dear, sweet cecilia. I’ll handle such matters myself.”

[wistfulwatcher]

"at least natalie's death was narratively satisfyin—"

no. it wasn't. they gave us a character who has struggled with addiction her whole life. struggled with self-harm in a variety of forms. who has felt lost and guilty for the last twenty-five years. a character who has been suicidal multiple times in the past, a character who was literally suicidal a week ago.

and you killed her a day after she started to actually, truly try to heal.

yes, this show has always been dark. yes, from the first moment of the entire series we knew these girls committed unspeakable violence on one another, and did so ritually. yes, we knew that the adult versions of these characters spent the last twenty-five years struggling with their guilt and shame and trauma, and were doing it very, very poorly.

all of this just shows that the story has been in their struggle. this has been—or at least it was initially sold as—a show about women and their trauma. a show about women who don’t know how to examine their trauma, don’t know how to process it. who can’t take more than small glances at what happened, but who can also never, ever forget that it’s there. this has been a show about women who are coping, most times poorly, but very, very realistically.

and there was so much hope in that, despite (or because) this is such a dark show. these women can screw up and struggle and be real people—which women never get to be on television—and still maybe, they can heal bit by bit. there was always an inherent hope in this story, because they were all still, as adults, trying to make a life for themselves even if they were muddling through it.

in season two, natalie starts to heal at the retreat. (apparently—i personally found her 180 between "qui" and "burial" highly suspect and very poorly executed, but that's a moot point now.) she spends most of the season struggling against lottie, but finally accepts lottie's therapy (thanks to lisa) and beginning with "burial" she keeps trying to get the girls to talk about what happened. she figures out what she needs to move forward—to finally, truly address what happened in the wilderness by talking about it. that becomes her goal, and her focus with the others.

but natalie doesn't get to talk about anything. the girls want to drink instead of talk in "burial". and in "it chooses," the second nat suggests they talk, lottie shuts her down and suggests they drink poison instead. natalie is sober, and trying to do what she thinks she is supposed to do by confronting her trauma. she has made all of the "right" choices to actually heal from her pain, but she never gets to.

natalie’s entire story line, set up in her very introduction in the pilot, is to find her purpose. she talks about her self-destructive behaviors being due to her lack of one, and makes it clear that she intends to find that purpose once she leaves therapy. thus, for natalie’s story to be narratively satisfying, her story needs to end with her finding that purpose, right? which means that, if we are to treat this as a narratively satisfying ending, then natalie physically sacrificing her life for lisa is supposed to be that purpose. 

but death is not a purpose. and, to portray it as such for a character who has tried to commit suicide is, honestly, disgusting to me. especially for a character who was saved—again, a week ago—from her attempt by the very woman who then encourages her to drink poison that is used to "put animals out of their misery". who is then told in her death vision to “let the wilderness in” (when "the wilderness" has been a pretty clear metaphor for trauma!!!). they spent all season telling a suicidal character to suddenly let go and give in and stop resisting in a narrative that leads to her “””finding purpose””” in her fucking death. not to mention letting that death be recorded as "an overdose" after she has been explicitly sober as part of her growth!!

a far, far more narratively satisfying path for natalie is for her to actually find a purpose that is consistent with the hunter-protector she’s always been described as. in “no compass” tai says that natalie is the reason they all made it out of the wilderness. (again, wilderness as a metaphor for trauma!) so why, on earth would the better story line, the more consistent story line, the more satisfying story line—especially when this show is all about parallels and cycles repeating—not be natalie leading them all out of “the wilderness” by helping them process the trauma? by getting them all to talk about it?

(i didn’t necessarily need or expect yellowjackets to give a truly “good” message or resolution—bittersweet would be plenty for me—but can you imagine the beauty of that story? the character who has felt nothing but pain and guilt, who has been alone for the majority of her life, who has never felt good and stable love, being the one to break through the trauma first? the one who finally learns to heal first, and protects them all once again by leading them through the wilderness? a story of a woman supporting women through trauma that only they can understand?)

instead natalie's story goes from struggling with her pain and guilt, to trying to find some purpose in her life, to losing that purpose and attempting suicide, to being saved and actually starting to address her trauma head-on. and then dying before she can. i'm sure there are some people who believe that this is character growth (the briefest moment of addressing her trauma), but it wasn't; her growth is blunted by her death.

and this makes her death both tragic and unsatisfying. a character who struggles so hard and so long, who finally, finally sees a light, and the moment she reaches for it, is shifted back to where she was a week ago, having never gotten to actually grow.

so no, just because i am personally devastated by nat's death does not mean that i am blind to the narrative; quite the opposite. i am furious both as a fan of the character and a fan of the story. i feel deceived, disappointed, and insulted by every single part of this story. i feel like we were all cheated out of what could have been a beautiful exploration of a complex and fascinating character. and on top of all that i am very, very hurt.

[fabuloustrash05]

rank the canon love interests for each turtle, gO (i can't remember if you have already lol)

*cracks knuckles* It’s time for a lightening round of ship ranking!

Disclaimer: I’m rating these girls based on their romantic relationships with the Turtle that crushed on them/had a relationship with. This is NOT a ranking of their individual characters.

Leonardo

Unnamed Women/Yumi’s Mother (Mirage)

2/10

She was just a figment of Leo’s imagination so does she even count?

They have a daughter together which is nice, but also HOW DID THAT WORK??

Raven Shadowheart (Mirage)

7/10

Seems like a good ship

F in the chat for Leo, even when he has a GOOD relationship it can’t last long.

Lotus Blossom (1987)

10/10

The overall BEST Leo love interest.

The fact she gave him a flower to remember her by <3

Lotus deserves to make a comeback!

Can’t believe Nickelodeon chose INCEST over her!!

Karai (2012)

-1000000000000000000000000/10

WHY DID THEY HAVE LEO PULL A LUKE SKYWALKER?!

Koya (IDW)

2/10

I can definitely see the appeal and aesthetically they look good together but the CONTEXT of their relationship is BAD.

LEO IS THE REASON SHE IS DISABLED!!

Lita confirms they get together in the future, but WHY?? They have no romantic chemistry or hints that they like each other romantically. Maybe SHOW us instead of TELLING us!!

Toxic 95% of the time

April (Mutant Mayhem)

7/10

I usually heavily dislike April x Turtle ships, but I can’t deny that they were cute.

Leo’s moment of falling for her was actually kinda cute and funny.

His crush on her is not shoved down our throats like OTHER April x Turtle ships *cough* 2012 Apritello *cough*

I like that they went  to prom together <3

But again, I don’t think April should be shipped with any of the Turtles and I don’t see this ship lasting in the long term…

Seems like it’s a one sided crush like Dipper and Wendy from Gravity Falls, so I’m not convinced this will last in the upcoming show/sequel

Raphael

Ninjara (Archie Comics)

2/10

They’re cute but it’s not a really interesting ship

It looks too much like a cheap OC x Canon pairing

Mezcaal (Archie Comics)

7/10

The first and only time one of our Turtles boys have been married, congrats Raph!

A badass married couple

I hope her and Raph are forever happy together running that bar

Mona Lisa (1987)

10/10

Iconic!

Her kissing Raph then calling him “doll” is so cute!

She IS the ideal Raphael love interest. Her and this ship truly left a major impact on the fandom.

She is the go to Raph love interest people think of in any iteration (2003, Rise & MM fans all wanted and made their own version of her in the show)

Joi (2003)

1/10

Meh…

Idk if she counts but I added her cause some people shipped them

She is Raph’s only human "love interest" and it doesn’t feel right to me. 

Out of all the Turtles, Raph being with a human feels weird, the other Turtles I’m fine with being with humans. Raph has always been known to date non human characters so this ship doesn’t look/sit right to me, and doesn’t feel like a relationship that would go anywhere.

Alopex (IDW)

2.5/10

I just don’t like it

I guess it’s because I was introduced to Alopex in the 2012 series where in that she’s a 30 year old woman and Raph is a teenager, so this relationship feels weird to me.

Kinda toxic at times tbh but still cute when they need to be (which is rare)

She’s 17 and Raph is 20… But that was apparently “retconned” so Idk what to think

Y’gythgba/Mona Lisa (2012)

10000000000000000000000000000000000/10

THE BEST LOVE INTEREST AND SHIP IN THE ENTIRE SHOW!!

The ONLY GOOD and HEALTHY relationship in the show!

“What a woman…” ICONIC!!

Raph was loyal and Mona was devoted to him!

He falls for her because she punched him in the face. That is both hilarious and very in character for Raph XD

She’s as much in love with him as he is with her!

Badass warrior power couple!

Short King x Girlboss

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!

Donatello

Jhanna (2003)

3/10

Another “Meh” ship to me.

Similar to Joi, does she even count?? Apparently she does to some people and its a ship for 03 fans.

Fan versions of her and this ship from different interactions (1987 & Rise) are more interesting than the actual canon version of them in 03 tbh

I guess I’m just not convinced of this ship and I don’t like how they look together. It’s hard to explain.

April (2012)

4/10

Could’ve worked with a cute “friends to lovers” story but the writers ruined it.

Kinda cute in season 1, got worse after that. Season 5 was them at their best but that’s only because it wasn’t shoved down our throats by that point.

The love triangle brought out the worst in them (and Casey).

I like them better as best friends.

Hottake: Donnie was more of the problem than April.

Like I said in Leo’s ranking, April should NOT be a love interest for any of the Turtles.

Big Foot (2012)

-1/10

Why did this happen??

Batgirl (Batman Crossover Comic)

2/10

Got a thing for redheads, huh Don?

Not a huge fan of big crossover shipping like this, but his crush on her was cute so I’ll admit that. 

It was sweet she gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving. So good for you Don!

Mona Lisa (IDW)

0/10

JUSTICE FOR RAPH X MONA LISA!!

Obviously not my cup of tea.

The Nerd x Nerd trope… wow, so original…

She’s a bitch to him at times and invalidates his trauma. 

I really thought her and Jennika were gonna be a thing (which I would’ve preferred more tbh), so her with Donnie as a massive disappointing surprise and feels so forced.

Michelangelo

Princess Seri (Mirage)

2/10

Tragic. She betrayed him. That bitch.

WHAT HAPPENED TO THEIR BABIES??

Also… MIKEY FUCKS??!

Kala (1987)

9/10

UNDERRATED SHIP!!

Two party loving teens who just wanna skate and have fun!

They keep pictures of each other as mementoes. THAT’S ADORABLE!!

Much like Leo x Lotus, we need this ship to make a comeback.

Buffy (1987)

0/10

FUCK THAT BITCH!! SHE TREATED HIM LIKE TRASH!!

Sara Hill (Image Comics)

4.5/10

I’m a sucker for the Turtles dating alien lizard woman.

I like the “friends with benefits” relationship they have. Feels like a Mikey thing he would do regarding his love life. 

I love how they bonded over their love of cartoons. Very cute.

She left him for another man though… WTF SARA?!?! YOU BROKE MIKEY’S AND MORE IMPORTANTLY MY HEART!!

Mitsu (TMNT III)

1/10

Bland and boring (Just like the movie!)

Princess Trib (IDW)

5/10

RESPECT TO MIKEY GETTING ALL THE PRINCESSES!! AND THE NEUTRINOS TOO??

Cute, but in the end I prefer him with Kala.

They are the only good Turtle ship (not counting Jennika and her girlfriend Sheena). But that ain’t saying much from me cause they’re still bland at times with little to go with.

How are they one of the better ships in IDW yet they are the most bland and uninteresting couple??

Renet (2012)

9/10

Very adorable!!

Works well romantically and platonically.

They’re both goofballs who are misunderstood by their peers.

Would be a 10 but Mikey was unfaithful...

Renet confirms they have some kind of future together.

I personally can’t see them staying together in the future, maybe having a friends with benefits relationship like him and Sara.

Shinigami (2012)

1/10

I like their dynamic, but not as a romantic one.

“Someone will die…” “OF FUN!” vibes.

Shini is obviously a lesbian and is dating Karai so…

Headcanon: They have playdates with their cats.

April (Bayverse)

0/10

WHAT DID I LITERALLY SAY IN LEO AND DONNIE’S RANKINGS??!!

The one Mikey crush that literally gives me the ick. I don’t like it.

C R I N G E

MIKEY SWEETIE SHE’S A FULL GROWN ADULT!! YOU ARE A CHILD!!

[fablesrose]

Ch 10 - The Two Live Crew Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist 

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: Stealing a family painting back for the client becomes more complicated when a competing crew comes to town.

Words: 3273

A/n: I wanted to get this out earlier, but here it is. I hope you like it!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was supposed to be a simple job. Stealing a stolen painting, giving it back to the rightful owners. But no, not only did someone beat us to the punch, but delivered a bomb to Sophie’s apartment. Now I stood here next to Nate at Sophie’s funeral. Though she was being buried under a different name. After Eliot, Parker, and Hardison all spoke, Nate went and closed the casket, giving it a soft pat as the pallbearers took it away towards the grave. 

I watched the curtain under the table where the casket sat, to see if it ruffled. It did as Sophie looked out quickly, gave me a wink and snuck out the other side where no one would see her. 

Faking someone’s death was surprisingly fun, especially when trying to find her potential killer. The four of us left, leaving Nate (and Sophie in a disguise) to keep scanning the mourners to see if one of them had any potential red flags of being her supposed killer. Only one man fit the bill. 

Sophie started the slides once we got back to Nate’s apartment, “Marcus Starke, brilliant grifter, even better forger.”

We all gathered around the living room to hear Sophie explain who this guy was. Parker sat next to Sophie, staring at her curiously.

“It’s like you’re haunting us.”

“Parker, I’m not really dead,” Sophie said. Parker poked her testingly. “I’m not dead!”

Parker replied with an unconvinced ‘okay’ before leaving her alone. 

“We used to work together,” Sophie continued about this Starke fella. “We did the Copenhagen job of ‘97, the Berlin Polytech job of ‘98, and, Nate,” she turned to him specifically, “remember that great run in Moscow?”

“‘That great run?’” he repeated, “I chased ya for three months.”

“Well, technically, you chased us,” she replied, “sorry.”

“Are you saying that you saw other teams before us?” Hardison asked.

“Really just another Nate, before Nate,” Parker rebutted. 

“Let me ask you a question,” Eliot said to Nate, “what bugs you more, is it the fact that he was with Sophie first or that he outsmarted ya?”

There were a few beats of uncomfortable silence before Nate expressionlessly said, “Moving on,” in a gravelly voice that showed he was very much bothered. 

“Ouch,” I whispered, of which Eliot replied with a smug huff. 

“Um, Starke doesn’t keep a permanent crew” Sophie continued, “He specializes in whiz mobs. He puts a team together, they slam into town on one high-profile job, and then they scatter. But usually they do one sm-” she paused as recognition spread across her face, “they do one smaller job first just to work out the kinks in the team.”

“Like our client’s painting, for example?” Nate asked. 

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Sophie said, mostly to herself, “Starke must have seen me, and now that I’m one of the good guys, and decided to get rid of me because… why?” She continued to think out loud, “because… I know his scams. Because… I know his favorite scam: the Mona Lisa variant.”

“Ooo!” Parker clapped a couple of times, “that was the first one I learned! In 1911, the Mona Lisa was stolen, and the conman who did it made six identical copies.”

“And then they put it on the black market, and each buyer thought that they had the original,” Nate finished. 

“So the dude sold the same painting six times,” Hardison said. 

“Seven,” I corrected, “depending on what he did with the original… the six copies plus the original, right?”

Nate nodded at me in agreement, but a bit distractedly. I glanced at Hardison to see he was agreeing, but a little embarrassed. 

“Not that that particular detail matters right now,” I added, motioning for them to continue.

“Hardison, pull up all the auctions in Boston in the next two days,” Sophie instructed, tossing him the remote. “Starke never stays in a city more than two days,” she explained. 

“Wait a minute, not museums?” Eliot asked. 

“No, no,” Nate answered, “Starke likes to use auctions to figure out who wants the painting. He picks who he’s gonna sell the fakes to.”

“That bit was actually my part of the scam,” Sophie said. “I made that up, it’s good isn’t it?”

“That’s still a lot of paintings,” Eliot said. 

“Yeah, it’s high profile,” Nate agreed. “A scam like this requires a lot of publicity, paintings ten million dollars or more.” 

“He does all his own forgeries,” Sophie said, “post impressionists, late 1800s.”

The screen showed all of the paintings available at auctions in the allotted time frame and slowly disappeared as they were eliminated on the given criteria just given by Nate and Sophie until there was only a couple left. 

“There,” Sophie pointed at one in particular, “That’s it. Van Gogh. He has a soft spot for Van Gogh.” 

The painting was a street scene, focussing on what seemed to be a restaurant or cafe with outdoor seating. I could tell that it was Van Gogh from the painting style once Sophie mentioned it. It was a quiet scene, peaceful, but the bright colors gave it life and energy. I could see the appeal to it. 

“So we just– we call the cops,” Hardison concluded. 

“Why is that the first thing you thought of, considering what we do,” I asked. I then said to myself, “I thought I was becoming part of the team, because that was not my first thought.”

“No,” Sophie said to Hardison, backing me up a bit. “If Starke goes down for this, there’s no guarantee we can get that painting back for the Mercers. He even smells the police, he’s gonna run, and we’ll get nowhere near it.”

“He did try to kill you, Sophie,” Nate reminded her. 

“We risk our lives all the time,” Sophie said quietly. “No,” She continued more resolutely, “We need to barter. We need something to trade for the Mercers’ painting.”

“Such as?” Hardison asked. 

Sophie looked back at the screen that showed the Van Gogh painting, “That. That’s what he’s come for. That’s what he wants.”

Nate turned to us, “We just gotta get there first.”

I turned to the rest of the team, “I feel a bit over my head on this one.”

Parker turned to me with a puzzled look, “What do you mean? You help us steal things all the time now. This is no different.”

“This is totally different, I mean, we’ve had time crunches before but this is a race. Against other professionals. I have learned a bit here and there, but not enough to be an asset against professionals,” I emphasized.

Nate shook his head, “Nah, you’ll be fine. We’ll find something for you to do. Come on, let’s go.” He walked away and everyone started to file out after him. I sat there watching them for a moment before following with a shake of my head. This will be interesting. 

There were people milling about the high end auction place, looking at the paintings on display. It was a relatively relaxed atmosphere, with servers handing out flutes of what seemed to be white wine, but I didn’t know enough about alcohol to pay much attention and I declined when one was offered to me. I wanted to stay particularly sharp in case we ran into trouble. 

We all had our assigned roles, with me acting more like a floater. Nate was obviously doing his point thing, making sure everyone was on task and being the brains of the operation, Parker acting like a server to swipe security credentials from the auction house manager, Hardison on computers and cams, with Eliot and I doing other general recon. Sophie was stuck in the van with Hardison, at least she felt like she was stuck. We had to keep her behind the curtain so to speak with her supposed to be dead and all. 

Eliot leisurely sipped on a glass next to me, surveying the room. With his hair pulled back with a beanie and his glasses, he looked comfortable. I could tell he was on alert, his eyes always peeled, but confident. I couldn’t help but admire him out of the corner of my eye until Hardison gave a direction.

“Eliot, check out the back corridor. I think I see an access point.”

Eliot looked at me and nodded his head in that direction, silently asking if I would come along. I nodded and followed him. It wasn’t long before there was some static in the comms with a voice I didn’t recognize coming through. Hardison argued with the voice, talking about baby monitor frequency and hacker whatnot. 

“Hardison, what is going on?” I asked, still following Eliot.

The voice responded before Hardison, “Ooooh, now who is the owner of that delectable voice?”

The voice was so… greasy that I reflexively gagged, silently, luckily.

Still, Eliot caught my response and growled into comms, “Who are you?”

“Nuh uh, we are stopping that right there,” Hardison answered. “Switching to backup comm frequencies. Eliot, they’re here, they’re here!”

“What are you talking about?” He asked as we turned a corner. At the end of the hall, an absolutely bombshell of a beautiful woman suddenly stopped as we spotted each other. She had a hand to her ear which she was talking to, which clued me in that she was part of the other crew. Eliot saw it too and quickly but gently pushed me back behind the corner as he analyzed the threat. I was in a position where I was relatively out of sight, but could watch both parties. 

I simultaneously listened on comms to Nate trying to figure out what was going on when Starke approached, striking up conversation, clearly already knowing who he was. I listened as it seemed the crew members paired off with their rival counterparts, battling it out in their respective fields. At least, I assumed that was what was happening in front of me as Eliot and this chick shifted between different combat stances. When each of them changed their form, the other seemed to flinch, leading to the conclusion that this was a more psychological battle. 

There was a look in Eliot’s eyes that I wasn’t sure I liked, particularly looking at this unfamiliar woman. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, and I didn’t want to explore the feeling any longer, so I turned away from them to go search for that access point Hardison mentioned. I thought I found it when I heard the manager ask everyone to leave. I worked my way back to where I left Eliot to find that Nate beat me there to grab him.

“Done giving her bedroom eyes?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light and teasing, but I was sure there was a different undertone present.

The laugh he had on the tip of his tongue from the interaction (or lack thereof) seemed to fall, and he gave me a light scoff and eyeroll, “Whatever, y/n.”

I raised my hands defensively as we exited the auction house, “Just calling it as I see it.” I walked ahead of him, passing Nate to load into the van, claiming the passenger seat for myself on the ride back. 

Coming back to Nate’s apartment to debrief a bit, Nate had a new fire and determination about him. It seemed like Starke pissed him off a bit.We reviewed the other members of the team with Parker and Hardison mirroring Nate’s annoyance for their own rivals. Parker was up against a thief named Apollo and Hardison against a hacker who goes by Chaos. 

“Was that who I was hearing on comms? He sounded greasy, gross,” I commented.

Hardison laughed once, “Well he is, and unfortunately very much knows what he’s doing.”

 Eliot, on the other hand, seemed to admire the girl, Mikel, and her reputation. She sounded very skilled and very scary. 

Once the opposing team members were established in the debrief, Nate was scrambling through papers and information. Trying to retain as much as possible.��

Eliot turned towards Sophie, “How’s this gonna play out?”

“He’s been challenged, okay?” She answered. “His pride is hurt. His… his ego’s at stake. He’s gonna… he’s gonna come up with a bigger, riskier plan than…”

“You talkin’ about Nate?” Eliot asked.

“Nate, yeah,” Sophie agreed, though a little distractedly. 

Eliot looked towards me and I hesitantly nodded in agreement as well. I didn’t know this side of Nate as well as Sophie, but the more I watched as Nate became more frustrated, she was right. I knew Nate was competitive, he’s been like that as long as I could remember, but in this environment, with the constant undertone of at least a little bit of danger, it seems to be on a whole new level. 

“There’s no way. There’s no way this crew is gonna get to that painting before we do. No way,” Nate repeated, determined. 

“We’re not giving up on our only hope of helping the Mercers,” Sophie added. “They’ve waited their entire lives for justice and we are not gonna fail them now.”

“Yeah, yeah. That. sure. Yeah,” Nate haphazardly agreed. “But I mean, who does this guy think he is?”

I looked at the team cautiously, and it looked like we were all on edge. This might be becoming personal.

“We know their MO, their strengths, their weaknesses,” Nate continued. 

“No, no, no,” Hardison interjected. “I have noticed a distinct lack of weaknesses.”

“We know their target,” Nate reassured, “even better, we know their timeline. That painting is going up for auction tomorrow, and it gets sold, it walks out that door. That means they have to hit it tonight. We gotta go in hot. In and out before they even…”

“Tripled security since today,” Eliot reminded him. 

“We barely had time to check out the cameras, the motion sensors,” Parker added. 

“Whatever happens, one way or another, we are walking out of that auction house tonight with that painting,” Nate finished, “No matter what.”

There was a beat of silence, tension clearly hanging in the air. 

“You got it?” He asked.

We all nodded and voiced the affirmative. 

“Now, let’s go steal ourselves a masterpiece.”

 Before I knew it, it was go time. I graciously took a minor role with how technical this plan was, leaving Hardison, Parker, and Eliot to their specific niche. Nate was the main distraction to have Eliot and Parker sneak in, but I was there hanging in the background in case more attention needed to be drawn. 

It didn’t take long for Parker and Eliot to run into their rival counterparts and for Hardison to get in a hacking battle with Chaos, stealing security capabilities from each other. Nate was holding the attention of the guards pretty well, but he started to lose them after the motion sensors went off. I was about to step in when none other than Starke stepped up to aid in the distraction, posing as Nathan Ford, with the insurance company. 

That might have been as bold of a move as any. 

Starke led Nate away from the gates towards the park where I was hiding out. This was when we were put on our back foot. Parker was stuck with the lasers that Chaos turned on after he locked Hardison out of security. It sounded like Eliot was still fighting Mikel. 

“What do you want me to do, Nate?” I asked him through comms, staying hidden. I watched as he glanced at Starke and the time on his watch. 

“Come on out, I’m still thinking.”

I approached the pair and watched as Starke spotted me, a curious expression crossing his face. 

“Ahh, see,” Starke turned back to Nate, pointing at him, “we found information and learned about your whole crew,” he turned back to me, “with the exception of you.”

“Let’s keep it that way, shall we?” Nate replied, just as a police car pulled up to the auction house, lights and sirens blazing. 

“You all out of tricks, Nate?” Starke asked.

“Oh, I think he has one more,” Sophie called as she stepped out of the driver's seat of the police cruiser. 

“Sophie?” Starke asked, surprised. 

“Oooh!”

“You’re not-”

“Dead? Yes.” She stepped up beside Nate and I.

“You went through all this just to set me up?”

“Uh-uh. No. We went through all of this to save you,” Sophie corrected. 

“Now, Hardison,” Nate spoke smugly. 

I smiled as I heard Hardison get himself up and running again, activating the alarms as planned. Parker was acting as a police officer inside and ‘arresting’ the other thief and grabbing the painting; Eliot was ‘arresting’ Mikel. Hardison went in as a third officer to smooth things over with the guards. We as a group watched as they all walked out of the front door.

“This is saving me, how?” Starke asked. 

Nate nodded at me to go and help the others get everything sorted out. I still listened as Sophie and Nate explained how Chaos was going to double cross Starke and how he was the one who tried to kill Sophie. I flinched as Starke’s car exploded down the street, catching me off guard. 

“Easy, y/n,” Hardison teased, packing up the artwork.

“Explosions happen all the time, nothing to be afraid of,” Parker commented casually as she pushed Apollo into the back of the police car, even though it was unnecessary. 

I laughed, “Well Parker, I’m not used to it yet. Explosions don’t happen on the daily for most people.”

She had a puzzled look on her face, “Huh, weird.”

 It didn’t take long for it to come to the traditional celebration of a job well done. Both teams gathered at the pub for bonding and the exchange of paintings. Parker was racing Apollo in picking locks and Eliot was exchanging scar stories with Mikel. I tried not to linger my gaze on them from where I sat at the bar and moved onto Sophie and Nate. They had made Starke hand the Mercer’s painting back to the aging couple who were overjoyed at its return. Starke was only satisfied when he received his compensation in the form of the Van Gogh painting.

We all shared a knowing smile as he left the pub. We had snuck into their home base while they were gone and had stolen his forgeries of the painting. Nate had given Starke one of the fakes, sending the rest of the paintings, including the original, to the airport under Chaos’ name. That should be sufficient evidence to frame him for forgery and theft. 

I didn’t stick around the pub for very long. It, for some reason, felt a bit disingenuous to insert myself anywhere after playing the backburner in this job. No matter how wrong I knew that feeling to be, I couldn’t quite shake it. Hardison had joined the thief table with his laptop, but was mostly admiring Parker with her determination to beat Apollo. My heart warmed with his genuineness that I could read even from a distance. 

I caught Nate’s eye from his booth where he was sitting with Sophie and nodded my head towards the stairs to signal I was heading home. Once he returned a nod in understanding, I exited the pub. I put effort into not making eye contact with anyone else to reduce the chances of being stopped. All the same, I wondered if anyone else noticed I left, or if Eliot would tear his eyes away from Mikel to see me leave. 

I didn’t even want to know.

A/n: Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged! Thank you for reading!

Tags: @instantdinosaurtidalwave @kniselle @technikerin23 @kiwikitty133 @plasticbottleholder

[howlingday]

In the dark au I used Penny as a example because of the firsts ep of volume 1 and I imagine the scenario of Ozpin or Glynda putting Jaune on a mission to look at Penny while she is in beacon/vale

"What happened?"

"Good afternoon to you, too, Ja-"

"What? Happened?"

The headmaster of Beacon sighed as the headmaster of Atlas glared through the screen at him. Rubbing his eyes, he felt he knew this conversation was going to come up yet did nothing to prepare for it. He thought he had a few days, at least, before this call came. Hell, he expected Lisa Lavender trying to make contact with him first before anyone else. But here he was, fuming at his Valian counterpart.

"Would you believe a series of unfortunate circumstances?"

"Students are dead, Oz." Ironwood replied. "The public need to have faith in us to ensure humanity's survival. Having only one student survive initiation tells a lot more about Beacon's standards than it does about those who take part in it."

"I am aware, James." He removed his glasses, revealing dark bags under his eyes. "I am aware."

The general didn't respond, save for the softening of his hardened look. He then gave a sigh and shook his head. "You haven't gotten any sleep, have you?"

"Not since the morning of initiation, no." Little over 24 hours. Thank goodness for the high amount of sugar in his mug. "I'm assuming things are not much better in Atlas?"

"The media have been on me since the tragedy came out. Not to mention how much Schnee has been breathing down my neck to keep quiet about his daughter."

"It's to be expected of a father to be concerned with his child, is it not?"

"Any other man, yes. But you don't know him like I do. He's not angry that his daughter died. He's panicking because someone with his name failed to meet the expectations of a distant school."

"Speaking of family names, how is your second?"

"Working. Despite being given emergency leave to spend time with her family. I'm almost tempted to place her under house arrest just to make sure she's grieving properly."

"People grieve in their own ways, James."

"Yes, but the way she's choosing to grieve puts my men at risk, Oz. Not that you'd understand."

That last comment wasn't made with any scathing intention, despite how Ozpin felt at the moment. Long ago, before he was the headmaster of Beacon Academy, he did know how to lead his own battalion of soldiers. However, such memories did little to comfort those in the present.

"You're right." He nodded. "Will you be attending the memorial?"

"I intend to, if only so I know Winter will also be in attendance. Should I expect anyone of note at the memorial?"

"Of note in what regard?"

"I'm traveling with the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company and his family. You know what regard I am referring to."

"Messages have been delivered to the families. Should they not wish to participate and only want the remains returned for their own individual funerals, then I should receive notices of the fact." James held his signature firm look. Oz sighed. "Ghira Belladonna has long since denounced his association with the White Fang."

"He is still a person of interest to both the White Fang and Atlas."

"James-"

"I don't intend to arrest someone outside of Atlas, Oz, but if I'm forced to act as a huntsman-"

"Then we shall act together." Ozpin finished. "Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me, James?"

"Yes, just one more." James was quiet for a moment, but Oz was a patient man. The fact the words didn't come right out of his mouth meant that James was still uncertain about the topic he was going to present. Either his answer would be to dismiss his earlier statement, or to get to the heart of the matter. "I may have a new student for you to enroll."

[allfleetingdreams]

"I get it now. Why I'm still alive even though everyone else is dead. I'm not the only one who's still walking around. I'm the same as them! I just hadn't noticed it before."

Been quite a while since I did more portraits! This time have Lisa Garland, one of Silent Hill 1's most tragic characters, and who, in my opinion, has the most cinematic death of all. The impact of Silent Hill on me is just.... intense, for lack of a better word. It was once a series that felt so distant to me, being so terrified to try out horror games and so I can only admire it from afar and read fics of it even though there's so much context I am missing. It was in 2021 when I finally gave the games a whirl, and playing SH1 and seeing that iconic Lisa bleeding scene haunted me. Still does. I saw it first when I watched a playthrough for nearly a decade ago, and while it did freak me out, it was also morbidly beautiful at the same time. The 3D animation artist, Takayoshi Sato, who did all of the CG cutscenes ALL BY HIMSELF, is a goddamn hero.

By the way I did this portrait on the Xiaomi Pad 6 which I got only yesterday, and so it's quite the big adjustment and it's why it kinda looks a little different from what I've drawn so far. It's really fun! I know I will still be using my Huion tablet for bigger pieces, but it's fun drawing on something else without having to plug my computer in every damn time. Can't wait to do more practice sketches on this baby! Did the sketch/lineart on HiPaint and did the rendering/final touches on Krita's Android version!

[augustheart]

DC Pride 2023 Tribute to Rachel Pollack

This is a transcription of the text that appears at the end of DC Pride, written by a variety of authors in memory of trailblazing writer Rachel Pollack. I've done my best to copy everything exactly as it was written, and I apologize for any errors. It's over 3,000 words, so I'm going to put it under a cut outside of the foreword. The rest of the tributes are in plain text and not italicized except in places where they were by the original authors.

(If you would like a PDF of the following transcription, one is available here.)

“On April 7, 2023, the legendary writer and Tarot expert Rachel Pollack passed at age 77. Her work for DC's Vertigo imprint—including the celebrated Vertigo Tarot deck and a long run on Doom Patrol that was a deep influence on the property's recent HBO Max series—was profoundly meaningful for generations of comics fans. She was a trailblazing trans woman in comics and sci-fi communities that were frequently male-dominated, and her lifelong love of both superheroes in particular and the comics medium in general allowed her to confidently turn their storytelling tropes inside out, truly queering her comics in every sense of the word.

In the months before her passing, the editors of DC Pride were speaking to Rachel about writing a new story for this very issue, and her enthusiasm for the project was boundless, as she planned to return to her themes of the superhero and the secret identity, of the "kink" of costumes, and of the revelatory freedom that she found in these characters. Unfortunately, just as work was set to begin on the script, completing it became impossible for her. In the absence of that last great work, but with gratitude for the incredible stories she did give us, we've opted to turn the pages we reserved for Rachel's story over to her friends, and to the fans whose lives she changed, to share their memories of her.”

—Unspecified Author or Editor

“I met Rachel Pollack in 1985, at a convention, where I was interviewing her about Salvador Dali’s Tarot, and then I met her again a couple of days later at the Milford Science Fiction Writers’ Conference, and we became friends fast. She was smart and funny, she was a brilliant writer, and she was the first person I’d met who knew more than I did about obscure Jewish mythology.

She told me off for writing a line of dialogue. ‘But that’s the only thing in the whole story that’s actually true,’ I told her, and she explained that art truth and reality truth were two very different things. And I knew she was right.

I don’t know how much I learned about writing, but listening to Rachel and Gwyneth Jones and John Clute and Lisa Tuttle and the rest of them, I learned so much about reading, and what I learned would change me as a writer.

Rachel was my friend. I had never met a person who had transitioned before and I had so many questions and, patiently, she answered all of them. She decided I needed to know Roz Kaveney, and Roz and I have been friends for decades now.

In 1988 I was writing Books of Magic and knew I needed a Tarot reading in the comic. Rachel was in London, and I asked her what the reading should be. She took me out to buy a Tarot deck that spoke to me, and I saw what happened when Rachel Pollack walked into a Tarot shop. It was a little like what happened when The Beatles went on Ed Sullivan. And then she gave me a beautiful reading of four cards, which encapsulated the whole of the story I was trying to tell.

She won the Arthur C. Clarke Award in 1989 for Unquenchable Fire, and I read it and suspected Rachel was creating her own school of fiction, her own brand of magical realism.

We argued, gently, about Wanda’s fate in A Game of You, and Rachel did what I wish everyone who had an argument about art would do, which is she took what she wanted to say and put it into a comic. Tom Peyer had asked her to write Doom Patrol after Grant Morrison left, and she did a remarkable job. I loved the delirious joy of her comics, the magic and the sense of fun, in Doom Patrol and in the comics that followed Doom Patrol.

I was thrilled to see Rachel when I moved to Upstate New York, and then I didn’t see her for years. I did that thing where you think you’re in touch with your friend, but really you’re just on social media at the same times. I was stuck out of the country during COVID, and Rachel had cancer. I was thrilled when I returned to hear that she had beaten the cancer, and then I was going to see her and she hadn’t beaten the cancer. A whole new cancer had turned up on the day she had beaten the first one.

I got to see Rachel more in the past few months than I had in the previous few years. She was as funny as ever, as sharp and as wise. I got to know her wife, Zoe, and to appreciate their love. I got to tell her bad Jewish jokes that, I suspect, I’d probably first heard from her. ‘Everywhere I went, people said ‘Look at the schmuck on the camel!’’ Some people die well—not necessarily bravely, necessarily, but gently and wisely and kind. Rachel was going to be one of those. She asked me to come to her funeral, and I said that I would.

Her funeral, several months later, was in the sunshine. It was filled with friends of hers from comics, from fiction, from Tarot, from writing, from teaching, from family, from the world, and Rachel lay above the grave on a wooden plank, wrapped in white winding sheet. We said true things about her, and we were funny and honest and there was so much love, and then we shoveled the earth on her, and cried, and said our goodbyes.

I’ve never met anyone like her. I’m glad she was my friend.”

—Neil Gaiman

“Rachel Pollack and I had the same favorite comic book—why, Doom Patrol, of course—and for a while she was its writer and I was its editor. She followed Grant Morrison, whose name was big and growing even then, and for years it seemed like Grant’s era might totally eclipse hers in memory. But DC released her Doom Patrol omnibus in 2022, and in the process unwrapped the radiation-proof bandages from her work, exposing the piercing and radiant appreciation that so many fans felt for it. On top of that, this year Dennis Culver and Chris Burnham, the creators of the excellent Unstoppable Doom Patrol, paid a moving in-story tribute to Rachel’s cast of broken-but-healing heroes.

I’m glad she got to see the omnibus, and I’m grateful for the chance it gave us to relive her perceptive, ironic, unsettling, and revelatory run. It was known for being strange and surreal, but there was so much more going on. Doom Patrol had been weird before, and funny, but never quite as wise or kindly meant.

A story that I always think of when I think of Rachel featured yours truly. At the end of my time as an editor—I had decided I wanted to write full-time—I called the creators I worked with to let them know I was leaving. Most of them, quite understandably, reacted with some implied variation of ‘What’s going to happen to me?’ It made me start to think I was being horrible and selfish. But when I called Rachel and nervously told her what I had decided, there was a silence, and then she said, ‘Quitting is good for the soul.’”

—Tom Peyer

“I met Rachel Pollack in the late ‘90s at WisCon, the feminist science fiction convention where we were both guests. It was the first day of the con, and they were introducing all the guests. I had read Rachel’s Doom Patrol comics and at least one of her books, Unquenchable Fire, and was excited about meeting her. She must have felt the same about me, because when the introductions were over, we headed straight toward each other as though we’d been magnetized, and we became friends immediately.

We lived on opposite sides of the continent, so we didn’t get to see each other that often, but thank the Goddess for email. I visited Rachel’s house once and she visited mine once. Her house was nicer. She took me to visit Hyde Park, Franklin Roosevelt’s old home, now a historic site—we were both FDR fans—and I taught her a Yiddish World War II song. We were both into our Jewishness, but from different angles. Rachel was interested in the mystic side, and I was into Yiddishkeit. Rachel had a bat mitzvah, and I studied Yiddish.

Rachel and I discovered we had the same birthday—August 17, which we shared with Mae West and Davy Crockett. So we sent each other birthday cards that also included happy birthday wishes to Mae and Davy.

I knew Rachel had written many books on the Tarot, so when one day I found a complete set of Tarot cards lying in the street, I decided the Goddess wanted her to have them, and I sent them to her on our birthday. After that, the Goddess would put out Tarot cards for me to find almost every year, often just in time for Rachel’s birthday presents. In return, she sent two Tarot cards that she had drawn for me when I was being treated for cancer. (I’m cancer free now!) I saved them and put them away safely—somewhere.

Last year a neighbor who was a collector of stuff died and left his collections to us, his neighbors, to take for free. Among all the stuff in his stuff-filled rooms was an unopened set of Tarot cards. Shortly after I found the cards, my Romani neighbors who lived around the corner put a book on Tarot out on the street, so I took that for Rachel. I mailed the book and cards to Rachel for our birthday.

For the first time, I got no answering card. I didn’t know that Rachel’s lymphoma had come back.

And somehow, it all got away from me.

Periodically, I would think, ‘Phone her—must phone Rachel,’ but something would come up and I’d forget to phone, or it would be too late to phone because of the time difference between New York and California. Damn it!

I miss you, Rachel. In our next lives, I’ll try to be a better friend.”

—Trina Robbins

“I first met Rachel Pollack when I was the assistant editor on The Sandman and she was the new Doom Patrol monthly writer. I shared an office with Tom Peyer, who was Rachel’s editor, and when Rachel swept in like a redheaded bohemian priestess, I always wound up putting aside my own work so I could chat a bit with Rachel as well. She had the rare gift of wielding her considerable expertise about comics and mythology in a way that made the person talking to her feel smarter.

After I left DC Comics to write full-time, I moved to Rhinebeck and discovered that Rachel lived there, too. We formed a small writing group that met once a week, usually in my kitchen. Always as kind as she was insightful, Rachel spent more time celebrating what worked than critiquing what didn’t. She did a lot of celebrating, of others’ writing and of her own, delighting in the words and worlds that moved through her.

She was, pre-pandemic, a frequent guest at my Passover Seder, the only person besides myself and my mother who knew all the Hebrew and all the traditional melodies. Her vast knowledge of midrash and Kabbalah made her comments more delicious than the charoset she made, and let me tell you, that was pretty damn good. 

In October, when she started to get really sick and I started to visit more frequently, often with Neil Gaiman, Rachel defied any expectation of how a dying person ought to act. She cracked Borscht Belt jokes and talked about writing and writers, and then I went with her wife, Zoe, to pick out a grave. We discussed the Tarot, which I had belatedly begun to study along with her seminal book on the subject, Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom. I asked, ‘What does it mean when you get an auspicious card in a place that means it’s negative?’ ‘It means that’s what you’re struggling with,’ she replied.

I am struggling with this turn of the cards. I cannot fully fathom that she will not be sitting at our favorite local café, writing, but ready to put down her antique fountain when she sees me. Yet when I turn back to her writing, I feel her still with me: Doom Patrol Rachel, Writing Partner Rachel, Rachel of the Passover Seder, Rachel Poet, Rachel Priestess, Rachel Friend.”

—Alisa Kwitney

“Rachel Pollack loved comics.

When we first talked about comics, it was about her own. Eight years ago I asked Martha Thomases if the Doom Patrol run after Grant’s was worth checking out, as I hadn’t heard much talk of it. She said ‘Yes. Read it.’ I adored the run and reached out to Rachel via email to let her know. To my surprise, I heard back from her within 20 minutes.

Over time we talked about the comics and creators that she loved. Carl Barks and the Duck comics, particularly the characters of Huey, Dewey, and Louie, meant a great deal to her. Little Lulu was high on her list. And The Fox and the Crow inspired a whole arc of her Doom Patrol run. The works of Jack Kirby (particularly on Fantastic Four and the Fourth World saga), Steve Ditko, and Gene Colan were brought up often, as were series including Xambi and Promethea, which she revisited often. She had even reached out to Marvel back in the early ‘70s inquiring about writing opportunities, two decades before writing at DC. 

Rachel saw the inherent queerness in superhero comics back in the Silver Age. One example she would reference was “The Town That Hated Superboy!” from 1967’s Superboy #139. In it, the citizens of Smallville turn against Superboy for nearly two pages. What stood out to Rachel was how Ma and Pa Kent pretended to hate Superboy out of fear that if they didn’t, those around them might suspect that Superboy was really their adoptive son, Clark. Though taking this sequence and relating it to an idea as heavy as the violent consequences of inadvertently outing someone by simply treating them with kindness was unlikely Otto Binder’s intention, the subtext was picked up on by many queer comics readers at the time in addition to Rachel.

Through the years I got to have a greater understanding of Rachel’s unbelievable kindness as well. She saw the world as a positive place and held out hope for just about everyone. Rachel discussed how attitudes with London’s Gay Liberation Front turned against the trans community in the ‘70s, but she would also talk about how some of the same people came back around and were vocal advocates for trans rights by the ‘90s. Whereas most, understandably, would allow themselves to be bitter and resentful, Rachel’s capacity for love and compassion was too strong for that.

I was devastated knowing just how many projects Rachel had in the works and how many stories she still had to tell. But after taking time to think on it, I know that no matter how long she stayed here with us, her work would never be done. Her stories will continue through those who love her and those who haven’t found her yet but will love her just the same. 

I love talking about Rachel’s work and her kindness. I plan on doing so for the rest of my life.”

—Joe Corallo

“‘It’s so cool that you created the first trans superhero,’ a very nice person told me recently. Writing feels like stuffing a message in a bottle and lobbing it out into the open sea, so to meet someone who had caught one of my bottles and read what was inside was extremely exciting. Unfortunately, I am a nerd first and a lover of accolades second, so I had to correct them. 

Galaxy, the character I created, is not the first out trans superhero in the DC Universe. Kate Godwin, created by Rachel Pollack 30 years ago, is. Kate is important, but more than that, she’s important to me. 

I was a teenager 30 years ago. That’s also important.

There’s a lot of talk of firsts in superhero comics, most of it meaningless. Dick Grayson absolutely deserves the ‘Sensational Character Find of 1940’ label trumpeted on the cover of his first appearance, Detective Comics #38, but you don’t need to read it, even as a die-hard Robin fan.

You can’t say that about Doom Patrol #70, the first appearance of Kate Godwin. That issue changes everything. That issue changes lives. Because Kate, a kind and funny woman, with an amusing power set and questionable taste in superhero outfits, who is beautifully, unapologetically trans—Kate is the viewpoint character.

Imagine the power of that. Holding up a trans woman—a lesbian trans woman, at that!—and saying ‘This, this is who you, the reader, should identify with.’ To have a trans woman be smart and pretty and likable, and not an object of scorn or pity, or a side character. She was the hero! I can tell you from experience, that is a tough sell now.

Reading that comic in the 1990s felt like a lightning bolt from heaven.

It was too powerful for my teenage self to handle. It was radioactive, and yet I would read my copy ragged to bask in its glow. I can call up its panels from memory. When I finally began my transition, many years later, I wore a lot of black tank tops and jeans, unconsciously aping Kate’s unofficial uniform. I didn’t put it together until recently, rereading those 30-year-old stories that I had imprinted upon like a baby bird. Early on, I wasn’t sure of the kind of woman I was, but clearly I knew the kind of woman I wanted people to see. Someone like Kate Godwin.

I never got the chance to meet Rachel Pollack and tell her how I had received her message in a bottle. How I had held it close to my heart until I finally found the strength to absorb its message. How she showed me I wasn’t alone, and I could be a hero, even if that just meant saving myself.

But I hear people say those words to me, having read about Galaxy. Which will have to do.

Thank you for being first, Rachel.”

—Jadzia Axelrod

[jewish-skitter]

The absence a brother leaves.

Worm 19.07/The Magnus Archives 104.

IMAGE IDs: A series of screenshots from Worm and from the Magnus Archives transcripts.

The first, from Worm, reads: “Rex,” Tattletale said. “Hm?” “His name was Reggie, but he got into sports in high school.  They started calling him Rex, until everyone used the name.  I don’t mean this to be insulting, but you were kind of opposites in a lot of ways.  He was this popular guy, charming.” “Your boyfriend?” She laughed, a short sound.  “My brother.”

The second, from The Magnus Archives, reads: My little brother Danny, he was always better than me. He was a couple of years younger, but by the time he hit 21 he was already taller, fitter, better looking. I mean, he didn’t have my winning sense of humour, but he didn’t need it. Charisma, it wasn’t a problem for him. I think a lot of people in my situation would have been… jealous, but not me. I was just proud of him. He was always doing some, some charity race or endurance course, getting modelling gigs, while I worked quietly away in publishing. And it made me smile.

The third, from Worm reads: She gave me a funny look, but she didn’t call me on it.  “It gets to this point where, you know, your cool older brother only spends time with you because it’s his duty as a sibling.  And when you realize that, it sort of hurts.  Makes it insulting.  I think I caught on to that around the time I started high school.  I stopped accepting those token offers of siblinghood.  We were brother and sister, we lived in the same house, went to the same school.  Our paths crossed, but we didn’t interact.  We were strangers.  He was caught up being the popular senior, and I kind of resented him for it.” “For not being a brother?” Lisa shrugged.  “Don’t know.  More for acting like a brother than not being a real brother.  For being the popular kid, being the favorite child, heir to the family businesses.” The fourth, from the Magnus Archives, reads: It was all kind of surreal, strange, and I started to think I might be dreaming, but I’d never seen him cry before. I tried to talk to him, find out what was wrong, but he just kept shaking his head. We sat there in silence for a long time. I didn’t know what to do; the whole situation was so alien. I thought maybe I could try and get him some rest, let him collect himself, so after some coaxing, I got him onto the couch. As he laid down, I heard him say something else. I thought it sounded like “the show must go on”, and at that moment, you know, I actually thought that was a good sign. I watched for a few more minutes until he was asleep, and then I went back to bed, though it was a while before I fell back to sleep. The fifth, from Worm, reads: “What happened? “I started noticing, he was in rough shape.  The smiles seemed fake, he’d get angry easier.  Was bottling something up inside.” “What was it?” Lisa shrugged.  “I’ve dwelled on it so long I’ve imagined possibilities and derailed my train of thought.  Even with my power, I can’t guess.” “And something happened?” “He slowly got more and more distant.  He’d fake more smiles, get a little more angry, a little more reckless.  And then one day he offed himself.”

The sixth, from The Magnus Archives, reads:

MARTIN That was the last time you ever saw your brother? TIM Yeah. MARTIN You never went back? TIM To the auditorium? No. If I had, I… I don’t think they’d let me leave a second time. MARTIN That’s why you joined the Institute, isn’t it? TIM I thought I might be able to find something about what happened, but… I guess at some point I stopped seriously looking, and started to just… get comfortable.

The seventh and final image, from Worm, reads:

Lisa shrugged.  “I was already seeing too much ugly, even before the powers.  Seeing more of it?  Seeing when people were being fake, when everything else was still screwy because of Rex’s suicide?  It was too much.  I took more money than I should have from my parents and I ran.” “And Coil eventually found you.” She nodded.  “And I eventually found you.  I took one look at you, and I had a grasp of what was going on.  Didn’t take too long for me to notice that you had that same air around you that Rex did.  Maybe I did what I could to save you because I couldn’t save him.”

END IDs.

[beevean]

I'm pretty sure that the whole deal with Dracula flirting with Annette was a reference to the whole "vampires love the blood of young virgins" trope. In Rondo's intro we even see his followers reviving him by pouring the blood of another young woman on his coffin.

I don't have that much of an issue as far as Dracula's character is concerned, it's something that vampires in media tend to do, often as a metaphor for predators, and Dracula hates humanity but not just in a rage induced way like in the show: game Dracula is a sadist he laughs maniacally and is gleeful about human suffering so I'd say it's in character for him to prey on young women (albeit in a "classy gentlemanly way") as a way to corrupt some of the most innocent and pure elements of humanity

...I only wonder if he also used to do this before meeting Lisa

Yeah, it's most likely because of it. Hell, wasn't the plot of Haunted Castle literally "Dracula kidnapped Simon's bride"? I guess that, before Lisa was introduced in the series, the devs thought he wouldn't be above preying on women like a stereotypical vampire; after they gave him a wife, he became more of a gentleman.

(after reading Dracula this is hilarious to me though. Yes, our guy turned Lucy and assaulted Mina in a very uncomfortable way... but bro. bro the entire section with Jonathan is chilling. "Yes, I too can love" and all of that. a real Dracula should absolutely boil with bisexual energy)

I don't believe Dracula jugs "respect women" juice, but I don't think he's an outright sexist pig either. My headcanon is that he craves someone by his side because he turned while he was grieving Elisabetha and never got over that sense of loss, even long after he forgot about her as a person (after all, that genius tactician offered Leon immortality after he casually revealed to be the source of his pain lol). Losing Lisa as well only made things worse.

Hey. Hey you know how a century after Lisa's death and Alucard renouncing him as a father (and I'd argue Hector betraying him as well), Dracula resorted to kidnapping and brainwashing Soleil? Just sayin'. Just sayin' that my man really, really needs someone with him :) he might prefer cute women, but he's not picky :)

[nerdzzone]

An Unexpected Party

Summary: Madeline goes home to celebrate her 21st birthday.

Part of the Back To You series

-----

July 2005

Madeline’s suspicions should have been raised the moment that she got home to find her parents’ house empty. There was a note - informing her that they were at Lisa’s - but considering they knew she was coming and that it was her birthday, she was a little surprised that they weren’t waiting eagerly for her at the door. However, it wasn’t entirely unusual as her parents did spend plenty of time over at the Evans’ house so the situation drew barely more than an amused scoff of disbelief from Madeline before she ditched her bags in her childhood bedroom, took a moment to freshen up, and set out to find them.

It wasn’t a far walk and her excitement had her moving at a pace that made the distance seem even shorter. Being home was always rejuvenating for Madeline. The quiet streets and familiar faces of neighbours she’d known her whole life was a contrast to the bustle and anonymity of New York City and her trips back to her little hometown always helped her feel grounded. Living in a big city and working in a competitive industry gave her ample opportunity to get swept up in the chaos and lose sight of her values, but a simple trip home to visit her parents - and the other people she loved most - always helped her keep a firm grasp on who she really was. Craving the warm welcome she knew she’d receive from her parents had her keeping up her swift march down the road, but she could feel the comfort of the familiar scenery sinking into her bones as she walked.

As she walked up the house she was practically bouncing with excitement and - as she’d been doing since she was old enough to walk to the Evans’ house by herself - she knocked twice and let herself in. It was quiet inside as she let the door shut softly behind her. Almost too quiet, but Madeline didn’t think much about it as she moved down the hallway until she turned into the living room and almost jumped out of her skin.

“Happy birthday!”

The loud and unexpected cheer pulled a squeal of surprise from her lips, but when her heart rate slowed enough for her to realize what was happening, she felt a rush of love as she took in the room full of people in front of her. Her parents were there as well as Lisa and all of the Evans kids and considering they hadn’t all been together since Christmas it was a very welcome sight.

“Oh my gosh,” she laughed. “What are you all doing here?”

“We’re throwing you a birthday party,” Scott grinned as he hurried over to pull her into a hug. “Because you’re twenty-one now and we can finally have some fun!”

Madeline heard her dad bark out a sarcastic laugh as he made a comment about how they were all well aware that she celebrated her last several birthdays by having just as much fun as she was now legally allowed and she shot him the most sweet and innocent smile she could muster as she pulled out of Scott’s embrace.

“I would never drink underage, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so it’s just a coincidence that all those high school parties were followed by a mysterious flu?”

His words were teasing and Madeline shot him a playful roll of her eyes.

“I didn’t drive all the way here just to be interrogated,” she informed him, dodging the question. “And it’s not too late for me to drive straight back so you better be careful.”

Her dad held his hands up in defeat, but another voice from across the room caught her attention.

“I don’t think so,” Chris protested. “Some of us came a long way to be here.”

A grin slid onto Madeline’s face as her eyes met his, but she couldn’t resist another teasing dig.

“I know, I’m impressed. I can’t believe you guys convinced Hollywood superstar Chris Evans to come to a birthday party for little old me. I’m so honoured.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Greg chimed in. “We had to pay him for the appearance, but he was surprisingly cheap.”

“I lower my rates for charity cases,” Chris admitted with a smirk. “And showing up at a party for a girl with no friends seemed pretty charitable.”

Madeline let out a scoff of laughter as she shook her head indignantly, but as her hands came to rest on her hips, Lisa stepped in before she could comment.

“Okay, let’s all be nice to the birthday girl,” she insisted with an amused smile dancing on her lips. “Chris, why don’t you come with me to get everyone a drink?”

Chris nodded as Connie offered her assistance as well, but while the women headed straight towards the kitchen, Chris took a brief detour around the living room so he could stop to give Madeline a hug on his way. As she had with Scott, she melted into the familiar embrace and when she pulled away and moved to settle on the couch, she found herself - all teasing aside - feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for the fact that everyone had made an effort to come together for her birthday.

The conversation moved on as she was asked about the drive up from New York and she questioned everyone else about what new and exciting things were happening in their lives, but it wasn’t until after Chris, Lisa and Connie returned with a glass of champagne for everyone and a toast had been made in Madeline’s honour that Carly broached a slightly more personal subject.

“So, we thought we’d just order pizza tonight if you’re okay with that, Maddie?” She asked, waiting for Madeline to agree before she continued. “Is this everyone who’s coming or are we expecting anyone else?”

The question was aimed at her, but it had Madeline’s eyebrows creasing together in confusion.

“Not that I know of, but I didn’t even know this party was happening so I probably wouldn’t be the best person to ask.”

“We were just wondering if your boyfriend would be joining us?”

The clarification from Lisa was helpful and had her biting back a smile. She knew without a doubt that her mother would have already informed her of their breakup and that the news would have spread through most of the group within a few days, but she appreciated their attempt at pretending there were any secrets among them.

“No, he definitely won’t be,” Madeline informed them. “Because he’s actually my ex-boyfriend now, we broke up a few weeks ago.”

There was a murmur of exaggerated surprise through the group, but the only person who seemed genuinely shocked - and not just because of his skills as an actor - was Chris. 

“Really?” He asked. “What happened?”

“We just had different goals in life, I guess.”

Madeline shrugged and sipped her drink as she answered, but her response had Scott letting out a scoff.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Scott,” she frowned, the low tone of her voice making his name sound like warning. “Please, don’t start.”

“What? I’m just saying that’s a generous explanation,” he insisted. “Especially when your goals are to work hard to build an amazing legacy in the ballet world and his goal was to constantly belittle your career while simultaneously lazing around all day and mooching off of you.”

It wasn’t an entirely unfair summation of their relationship, but Madeline rolled her eyes anyway. He hadn’t been a completely bad guy, but calling him a ‘mooch’ was probably fairly accurate. He preferred the term ‘entrepreneur’ but when they first met he’d admitted that he’d hit a bit of a rough patch. He’d tried to get a couple businesses off the ground that hadn’t worked out and was supposedly in the middle of regrouping before he tried his next venture, but it did become clear after a few months of having no money and expecting Madeline to pay for everything they did - together and apart - that he didn’t have much motivation to get himself a job. Even that didn’t bother her though as much as his comments about her choice of career. Despite her success, he never really took it seriously and was constantly resentful of how much time she spent training and rehearsing. He would have much preferred for her to have a regular nine to five job and commit all her free time to doting on him and it didn’t take long for that to grate on her enough for her to end it.

“Well, it’s over now so there’s no need to talk about it anymore,” Madeline pointed out. “He was a loser, I was an idiot, but it all worked out okay in the end.”

“You weren’t an idiot,” Chris assured her, his voice soft as he jumped into the conversation with a flicker of worry crossing his face. “Everyone makes bad choices sometimes when it comes to dating, but it sounds like he was the one who was an idiot.”

“He absolutely was,” Scott mumbled into his drink. “And I’ve been saying it for months.”

“And I’m sure Madeline appreciates your concern,” Carly chimed in. “But I doubt she needs an ‘I told you so’ right now.”

“I don’t, but I do appreciate it,” Madeline insisted, knowing that Scott did always have her best interest at heart. “And now that we’ve addressed that, let’s forget all about stupid ex-boyfriends and get this party started.”

Despite her mother’s warning to pace herself, Madeline quickly downed the rest of her glass of champagne and was pleased when it proved to be just what was needed to change the subject.

It was comforting how quickly they all slipped back together. There was never any awkwardness or lulls in conversation. They truly were like one big family and Madeline was so grateful to have so much love in her life. They ordered their pizza and continued catching up on each other’s lives while they waited and as they ate and the teasing and bickering was kept to a minimum for most of the evening. It wasn’t until the cake had been cut and Happy Birthday had been sung that the playful hostility reared up again.

“Now, I don’t know about everyone else,” Greg started, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “But I think we should play some charades!”

The suggestion surprised absolutely no one because it was Greg’s favourite game and one that he tried to work into every gathering that they had. Usually it earned a groan and reluctant agreement from the crowd, but that night it seemed the drinks that had been quite steadily flowing had everyone feeling a bit more enthusiastic. Until he suggested another rule.

“Perfect,” he smiled. “But Chris and Madeline aren’t allowed to be on the same team.”

His announcement had Scott laughing as he eagerly nodded in agreement, but put a scowl on Madeline’s face.

“Why not?!”

Madeline’s annoyance was clear, but Greg simply shrugged.

“Because you always cheat!”

“How do we cheat?” Madeline questioned, her nose wrinkling in disgust at that claim. “How can you even cheat in charades without someone noticing?”

“Someone does notice,” Greg insisted. “I notice!”

“Okay, so then how do we cheat?”

“I don’t know, but you always do.”

“That’s stupid, if you notice then you’d know.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Connie interrupted, shaking her head at the pair of them despite the smile on her face. The way that her dad was smiling too told Madeline that he was probably just winding her up, but she was disappointed when her mother took his side. “Let’s just keep the peace and put Maddie and Chris on different teams.”

Feeling her lip pop out in a pout, she looked at Chris for back up but when he simply shrugged and took another sip of his drink, she forced out a weak argument of her own.

“But it’s my birthday,” she reminded them. “And I wanna be with Chris.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Connie sympathised. “But you are always on the same team. It might be nice to switch it up.”

“Okay, fine,” Madeline huffed. “But if I can’t be with Chris then you can’t be with Lisa.”

“Ah, yes,” Greg chuckled, a sarcastic lilt to his voice. “It would be awful for your mother to be teamed up with the person here who knows her best.”

Madeline shrugged as her pout shifted into a smirk.

“I hate to break it to you dad, but Lisa is way more in sync with her than you are,” she informed him. “At least when it comes to charades.”

A hum of agreement rippled through the group and Greg let out an indignant murmur of disappointment that had Connie leaning over to press a kiss against his cheek.

“We’ve known each other since we were four,” she reminded him. “We’ve been winning at charades together long before I met you.”

The way her dad had visibly relaxed under her mother’s touch and soothing words had Madeline reflecting again on how relieved she was to be free of her ex-boyfriend. She knew that the ease and comfort of a relationship like the one her parents had was something that could be built over time, but the basic level of respect and admiration that provided the foundation for their partnership was something that she knew had to be there from the start. She was lucky to have such a wonderful example of a healthy, loving relationship to follow and she was determined not to settle for anything less. Her thoughts had her eyes drifting over to Chris, but her dad’s voice quickly pulled her back into the task at hand.

“Okay, so Connie and Lisa can’t be on a team, but neither can Maddie and Chris,” he announced, summing up the conversation. “So, why don’t we do Chris, Lisa, me and Shanna, and Carly, Connie, Maddie and Scott.”

Everyone agreed to the teams despite the slight pout that remained on Madeline’s lips, but the competitive nature of the group quickly left no time for any sulking. Things always got a little ruthless no matter what game they chose to play, but there was something about charades that brought out everyone’s competitive spirit. The many years of practice had them all quite familiar with each other’s techniques, but as the words and phrases they were given became increasingly difficult, Chris and Madeline had to admit that it threw them off not to be on the same team. Apparently, they’d relied on each other in past games more than wanted to admit and Chris was constantly frustrated that despite his success in the field of acting no one on his team could ever guess what he was trying to convey while Madeline was irritated by the fact that despite no one on her team ever understanding what she was acting out, Chris always knew immediately what her thought process was.

In the end - despite their apparent uselessness without each other - Chris’ team won and Madeline slipped back into the sulk she’d brushed off at the start of the game.

“I need another drink,” she sighed after her team’s defeat was official. “Anyone else?”

Chris and Scott voiced their agreement, but they noticed everyone else’s less than subtle glance at the clock.

“I think we’re gonna head home,” Connie announced, looking at Greg for confirmation before turning back to Madeline. “Are you going to stay a bit longer?”

“I think so,” she nodded, looking around to see if she would be overstaying her welcome. “If the party’s still going?”

Again, Chris and Scott nodded eagerly, but the women of the Evans family weren’t as enthusiastic.

“I think it’s time for me to go to bed,” Lisa admitted, earning a nod of agreement from both of her daughters. “But you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, Maddie.”

“Are you sure?”

Madeline’s question was directed at Lisa, but Scott jumped in before anyone else could comment.

“Of course,” he assured her. “It’s your twenty-first birthday, you can’t go to bed before eleven. Chris and I will stay up with you and keep the party going.”

Lisa insisted that was fine with her as long as they promised to keep the noise to a minimum and after everyone finished the drink they were holding, Madeline’s parents rose from their seats.

“Okay then, Maddie-loo,” her dad smiled. “Call us later or in the morning if you need a ride home. Don’t get into too much trouble and boys, keep her safe.”

Rolling her eyes, Madeline bit her tongue to stop herself from reminding her dad that she was capable of taking care of herself and stood up to hug her parents and the rest of the group that were heading to bed, thanking them all for a wonderful birthday celebration.

“Now we can really get this party started,” Scott grinned when everyone else had left. “I’ll get us another round.”

Madeline laughed as he scurried away with a mischievous glint in his eye, but just as she’d settled back down on the end of the couch that Chris had stretched out on, she felt him nudging her with his foot. Glancing over at him, she could see the concern on his face before he spoke.

“Are you really okay?” He asked before clarifying. “You know, with your break up?”

Flashing him a sincere - and hopefully reassuring - smile, she nodded her head.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because I really wasn’t that sad,” Madeline shrugged. “I don’t think I was ever really that invested and it hadn’t been great for a while so even though we just broke up I think I was kinda checked out a while ago.”

“I didn’t even know he was a dick,” Chris admitted, earning a snort of laughter from Madeline. “But I want you to know that you can always talk to me about stuff. I know I’ve been kinda busy lately, but I still wanna know what’s going on with you.”

“I know, I just figured your mom would tell you so there was no point in me bothering you with my boring drama.”

“It’s not boring. If it’s important to you then it’s important to me.”

His assurance and the sincerity she could hear in his words had Madeline’s heart swelling in her chest as she reached out to squeeze his foot that rested against her leg.

“Thanks, Chris,” she murmured. “I’ll remember to keep you in the loop next time anything mildly interesting happens in my life.”

Chris smiled - seemingly comforted by her words - but before he could comment or ask any more questions, Scott burst back into the room with three glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

“Okay, so,” he practically giggled as he set the glasses down and began to pour a very generous amount into each of them. “I was thinking we could play a game.”

“What kind of a game?”

Madeline’s tone was suspicious and the cheeky grin on Scott’s face did nothing to ease her concern.

“A drinking game,” Scott elaborated. “I was thinking ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

“I don’t think so,” Chris groaned, shaking his head as his displeasure at the idea was written all over his face. “I know everything I need to know - and plenty that I don’t - about the things you’ve done already.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Scott pleaded. “We can’t just sit here drinking all night, that’s boring.”

“Sounds like Chrissy has some secrets to hide,” Madeline teased. “Got some things you don’t want to admit?”

Madeline wasn’t sure if he was just going along with it because she was the birthday girl and it was her party, but her enthusiasm for Scott’s idea made him far more agreeable as his lips twitched into a smirk.

“Nah, definitely not. I’m an open book,” he insisted. “I was just worried that you’d get way too drunk with a game like this now that you’re living your wild New York life. There probably isn’t much you haven’t done.”

His words had Madeline rolling her eyes as she leaned towards the table to pick up the drink Scott had poured for her.

“That is not true,” she protested. “In fact, I’ll get us started. Never have I ever been in a Hollywood movie.”

Chris chuckled at the statement and leaned forward to pick up his own glass before taking a swig.

“Touché.”

Satisfied that she’d won that battle, Madeline giggled and urged Chris to go next as they settled into the game. The rules were simple. One person makes a statement about something they’ve never done and if anyone has done that thing then they have to drink. Considering Scott had poured them straight whiskey, drinking was not the most appealing option and they seemed determined to find ways to force each other to partake. For the most part things started off pretty general - with statements like never have I ever performed in a ballet, shotgunned a beer, owned a dog, flirted my way out of a speeding ticket, slept with a woman and other basic things - but it wasn’t until they were all well into their drinks that Scott made things personal.

“Never have I ever,” he started, flashing Madeline a smirk that let her know she would soon be taking another sip. “Stayed in a relationship for over six months with someone who was incapable of making me orgasm.”

Despite knowing that he was going to be targeting her, his words still made her jaw drop and both men watched carefully as she sat in stunned silence until she pulled herself together enough to speak.

“What the hell, Scott?!” She scolded him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I told you that in confidence!”

Her reaction had Scott letting out a howl of laughter as she reluctantly sipped her drink.

“I know, but you didn’t have to drink,” he pointed out. “You could have pretended you didn’t know what I was talking about!”

“Well, it was pretty obvious,” Madeline huffed, shooting him a glare. “You’re such a jerk.”

She’d been making a conscious effort to avoid Chris’ stare, but the sound of his chuckle drew her attention as he tried to offer some comfort.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about that,” he assured her. “Well, maybe you can be embarrassed about putting up with it, but if he can’t get you off then that says more about him than it does about you.”

The conversation was not one she wanted to have with Chris - especially not when she had enough alcohol in her system to have her mind wandering to what skills he might have in that area - and she was desperate to change the subject.

“Yeah, well, as I said earlier, he’s not my problem anymore.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Chris nodded. “The more I hear about this guy, the less I like him.”

“He wasn’t all bad,” Madeline mumbled, feeling the need to defend her choices even if she had to admit that her ex didn’t have many positive attributes that she could use to defend him. “But here’s one for you, Scott. Never have I ever shared a friend’s secret with the sole intention of humiliating her.”

Scott let out another bark of laughter, but as he lifted his shoulders into a shrug, he didn’t sip his drink.

“I wasn’t trying to humiliate you,” he protested. “So, sorry babe, but I’m not gonna drink.”

Sticking out her tongue to show her annoyance, Madeline didn’t bother to argue and was relieved when Chris jumped in with a distraction. Deciding that they’d shared enough secrets and were heading for trouble, he suggested they switch gears before anyone crossed too far over a line and pulled a pack of cards out of a drawer to start up a game of poker with the twist of the loser of each round doing a shot to keep their little party going. 

Happy to play anything that kept the drinks flowing, everyone quickly agreed but by the time they gave up on the game almost an hour later, it was safe to say that Madeline was very drunk. The room wasn’t quite spinning yet, but she assumed that it wasn’t far off as the warmth of the alcohol flooded through her body leaving her feeling happy and fuzzy. Every movement felt lazy as her limbs and her head seemed to be too loose and too heavy all at once, but as she found herself lounging between the boys on the couch - leaning back against Chris’ arm as her feet stretched out onto Scott’s lap - she felt overwhelmingly happy to have them in her life.

She was just about to share that thought with the group when Chris announced that he needed to use the bathroom and stood up from the couch so abruptly that Madeline had no time to brace herself and fell flat on her back against the cushion.

“Ow,” she pouted. “You shoulda warned me.”

Chris glanced back to see what she was talking about and the alcohol induced lack of spatial awareness had him walking straight into the coffee table as soon as he turned his head. He stumbled and caught himself, but the sight had Madeline and Scott dissolving into a fit of giggles. Chris scowled at first as he leaned down to rub his shin, but he couldn’t hold back a smile and let out a chuckle of his own when Scott and Madeline struggled to control themselves. He shook his head at their hysteria and continued on his way out of the room, but once he was gone - and as soon as she’d pulled herself together - Madeline nudged Scott with her foot the way that Chris had done to her earlier in the evening.

“Hey,” she mumbled to get his attention. “I can’t believe you brought up my unsatisfying sex life, that wasn’t cool.”

“Sorry…” Scott had the decency to look sheepish, but it only lasted a moment before a sly smile slid back onto his face. “It could have been worse though. I could have said ‘never have I ever been in love with Chris’.”

Madeline scooched back enough to lift herself up and rest her head on the couch’s armrest as she looked at Scott with her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.

“What? He’s your brother, of course you love him.”

“I didn’t say love,” Scott pointed out. “I said in love.”

“Okay, well, that would have been weird so I’m glad you didn’t say that.”

“Or are you glad I didn’t say it because you would have had to drink?” Scott questioned as the smug look on his face deepened. “Because you are so in love with him.”

As Madeline realized that the teasing tone had slipped from Scott’s voice and he meant what he was saying, a sudden wave of sobriety washed over her. Her heart felt like it was in her throat as his announcement of her best kept secret hung between them until she forced out a nervous laugh.

“What? That’s crazy, Scott. You should have a glass of water because you must be wasted.”

She cringed at how entirely unconvincing she sounded and she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the sympathetic look on Scott’s face that suddenly had her feeling dizzy.

“It’s not crazy, I see the way you look at him. I’ve had my suspicions for years, but I have a little theory now that I think confirms it.” He paused to give her the chance to comment, but when she stayed quiet - her panic making it hard for her intoxicated brain to formulate any kind of excuse - he continued. “I think the reason that you put pretty much no effort into finding a solid relationship with an actually decent guy is because you’re waiting for Chris. You only date lame guys that you aren’t really interested in so that you won’t be too invested in a relationship with someone else to jump ship if Chris realizes that he’s in love with you too.”

If that was what she’d been doing then it was completely subconscious, but she did have to admit that it did make sense looking at her relationship history. Once again, Scott had managed to leave her stunned, but the weight of keeping her feelings a secret and the alcohol weakening her defenses had her unable to keep up the act that she’d been hiding behind for so long. Holding his gaze and hoping that she could trust him to keep his discovery to himself, she felt her eyes grow glassy as her confession spilled out.

“Okay, you’re right,” she admitted, lowering her voice to not much more than a whisper. “But you can’t tell him. Please, Scott. Promise you won’t tell him.”

“I won’t,” he assured her. “But I think you should.”

“No way,” Madeline shook her head, her watery eyes widening in panic. “It’s none of his business.”

Despite her firm tone making it clear her words were not up for debate, Scott let out a scoff at that claim.

“It’s totally his business!”

“No, it’s my feelings so it’s my business.”

“And it affects him so that makes it his business too.”

“It won’t affect him if I keep it to myself,” Madeline pointed out. “He has a girlfriend, Scott. A girlfriend that he’s been with for a while. If I tell him it will change everything and our friendship means too much to me to throw it all away.”

A flash of understanding crossed Scott’s face, but the faint sound of the bathroom door opening floated through the quiet house and Madeline felt a rush of anxiety as she knew Chris would be back any minute.

“Please, Scott,” she hissed. “Don’t say anything.”

A tense silence filled the room as Scott seemed to fight an internal battle, but after a moment of thought a sigh fell from his lips.

“I won’t, I promise,” he assured her. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Secrets?” Chris questioned as he walked back in the room. “What secrets?”

“Nothing interesting,” Scott shrugged. “Madeline was just telling me all about her extensive collection of sex toys.”

The random - and ridiculous - claim combined with the relief that Scott had so quickly come up with a distracting lie had Madeline dissolving into giggles all over again.

“Wow,” Chris chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he flopped onto the couch on the other side of the room. “I gotta say, that’s a little surprising.”

“Is it?” Madeline smiled. “I guess I’m a dark horse.”

“And I,” Scott announced. “Am very drunk.”

Despite the brief moment of sobriety that she’d felt when Scott announced his little realization, Madeline had to admit that she felt the same way. Thinking back to how many drinks she’d had that night was enough to have her stomach churning in anticipation of a rough morning and her eyes were growing heavy as if her body was taking the reins and demanding she get started on sleeping off all the alcohol she’d consumed. She was vaguely aware of Chris firing back a response to Scott and noted that the slur in his voice was proof that drinking nothing but straight whiskey for the last couple of hours was probably not their wisest decision, but she found comfort in the fact that her friends seemed to be just as drunk as she was.

Shifting onto her hip, she let her eyes drift shut as she nestled down into the couch as if it was the comfiest bed she’d ever slept on, but Chris’ voice filled her ears just before she could drift off to sleep.

“Maddie, you should drink some water.”

“Shhh,” she responded without even bothering to open her eyes. “I’m sleeping.”

“You’ll regret it in the morning…”

Scott’s words were accompanied by him lifting her feet off his lap as he stood from the couch - presumably to get the water they were discussing - but Madeline was too tired to offer any argument other than a grunt as she gave into her drunken exhaustion and let herself fall asleep.

When she woke up the next morning, there was a blissful moment where she thought that she might actually feel okay. However, by the time she found the strength to bat open her eyes, she knew that her initial assessment couldn’t have been more wrong. Her head was pounding, her stomach churned with nausea and she was pretty sure that even her bones ached. She let out a groan of displeasure as she tried to remember if she ever did accept the advice from the boys to drink some water, but as she thought back to the night before she was quickly faced with another memory that had her nausea increasing for a reason that couldn’t be blamed on the alcohol.

Scott knew her biggest secret. He knew she was in love with Chris.

The thought had her heart rate spiking as she felt like she was drowning in anxiety and regret. She shouldn’t have admitted he was right - she should have denied it and insisted he was just drunk and being dumb - but no, she’d been stupid enough to confirm his suspicions and now she felt like her life was in his hands. She knew that she was close with Scott, but Chris was his best friend. If he had to pick one of them to be loyal to, she knew that Chris would win and if her blurry memory was correct he seemed pretty convinced that Chris had a right to know about her feelings.

While the blanket and remnants of Chris’ belongings beside the couch across from her told Madeline that he had probably joined her in her little impromptu sleepover in the living room, he was currently nowhere to be seen and she had no idea where Scott had ended up. She was just about to rally herself enough to search for them when Scott strolled into the room and his stylish choice to wear sunglasses inside combined with the several bottles of water he was desperately cradling in his arms made it clear that he was suffering as much as she was.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

He made the observation as he practically collapsed on the couch by her feet, but as Madeline attempted to sit up and felt her head start to throb, she wasn’t so sure.

“Am I?” She questioned. “Are you sure I’m not dead? I feel like I’m dying.”

“You might be dying,” Scott shrugged. “But if you were dead you probably wouldn’t feel so awful.”

“Can you kill me then?”

“No, but I did bring you this.” He tossed a bottle of water at her, earning a groan as it landed heavily on her fragile stomach. “And you can stop looking at me like that, by the way.”

Her slow moving brain couldn’t puzzle out what he was talking about as her eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“Huh? Like what?”

“Like a guilty puppy who just peed on the carpet,” he explained. “Or like you murdered someone and you’re waiting to see if I’m gonna turn you in.”

“Oh, sorry…” Madeline frowned as her heart sank. She’d been hoping that his fragile state meant he might have been drunk enough to have forgotten about their conversation entirely, but his comment was proof that she wasn’t that lucky. “I didn’t realize I was.”

“Well, you were,” Scott insisted. “But you don’t need to, you have nothing to worry about.”

“About what?”

The vague response had Scott rolling his eyes behind his dark glasses, but Madeline didn’t want to give anything away before she knew they were talking about the same thing.

“I’m not going to tell Chris about your feelings,” he assured her. “I still think you probably should, but I understand why you don’t want to.”

Relaxing against the couch as relief washed over her, Madeline mustered up enough energy to flash him a smile.

“Thanks, Scott. I appreciate that.”

“Don’t worry about it, you know I’ve always got your back,” he reminded her, the sincerity in her voice making her feel silly for ever doubting his loyalty to her. “We can talk about it more when I don’t feel like my brain is literally melting inside my head, but for now why don’t we go make some greasy food? I think that’s the only thing that might save us.”

The suggestion - while the food did sound appealing - had Madeline letting out a groan of protest as she lifted an arm to cover her eyes.

“Can you just bring it to me?” She whined. “I’ll throw up if I move.”

“Nope,” Scott shook his head, wincing immediately as he clearly regretted making any movement that would rattle his currently delicate brain. “The effort it takes to make breakfast is all part of the hangover cure.”

“I don’t believe you,” Madeline huffed. “Why don’t you get Chris to help you?”

“Oh, I will,” Scott assured her as he dragged himself back to his feet. “He’ll meet us in the kitchen as soon as he can drag his head away from the toilet.”

The thought made Madeline cringe, but she sipped the bottle of water that Scott had brought her to quell the swirling of her own stomach before pulling herself off the couch as well. Her head pounded in protest and her dehydrated muscles strained to support her body, but she weakly followed Scott back towards the kitchen as she reflected on how much better she felt after their conversation. Her hangover was still weighing her down, but without the threat of potential emotional trauma hanging over her, she had to admit that she felt lighter than she had when she first woke up and she was hopeful that having someone to share her secret could prove to be useful. She just had to make sure that Scott really was willing to keep it to himself.

-

Next

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers  @sidepieces @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @denisemarieangelina @elrw24 @findthebeautyinbreakdowns​ @trottae17 @annvail @rach2602 @sarahdonald87 @firephotogrl74 @ourfinest-hour @k-evans-writes @astheskycries

[maddieautobot273]

Silk & Cologne (4)

A Miguel O’Hara x OC series - link on AO3 (X)

Chapter 4: Society - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Female OC

Words: 2.9K+ 

Rating: G - No warnings here! A side for one more barf at the beginning. 

Summary: Peter B. gives Lisa a tour of the Spider-Society before Miguel debriefs her regarding the situation with her universe. 

/////////

I ended up barfing three more times in the last hour. My throat was burning from the acid that was left over, and it pulsed every time I took a deep breath to calm myself. By then, Miguel decided he’d prepare something for me to help further explain why I was in another dimension. 

“That bracelet will help you keep from glitching during your time here,” He explained briefly before turning to leave. “Peter will escort you to my lab once you’re well enough to move around,”

Before I could even get a question out, he was already gone. Both him and Peter had briefly explained the Spider-Society to me. An elite task force of multiple other Spider-People from other dimensions. I had asked Peter how many Spider-Men and Women there were in the multiverse. He said there were too many to count, but that didn’t stop him from trying. 

“Let’s see, that I know of, we got Me, Peter Parker, Peter C. Parker, Scarlet Spider, Spider-Punk, Spider-Ham, Spider-Noir, Jessica Drew, Spider-Woman, Spider-Gwen, Spider-Girl, Cyborg-Spider, Spider-Cat–”

I became immediately overwhelmed as he continued to list the names of all of the Spider-People he appeared to know at the top of his hand. There was a bubbling sensation in my stomach. That was when I barfed the third time. 

“Oh geez, sorry!” Peter B. cringed at the display as he gently used his washcloth to clean my mouth. “I guess I’ll leave the rest of the explaining to Miguel,” 

Spider-Doc checked my vitals once more before putting me through some physical exercises to make sure I could stand and walk on my own. When he was satisfied, he cleared me from his office. 

“Alright, you’re good to go!” He proclaimed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a Spider-Man themed lollipop. 

“Thanks, Doc,” I took the treat in my hand, hesitating briefly before taking off the wrapper and putting it in my mouth. I was pleasantly surprised that it was strawberry flavored. 

“Now from what it looks like to me, you’ve made it through the worst of the transformation side-effects. You’ll just feel a little sore and now with your throat, a little rough to speak for a while,” The Doc explained as I sucked on the candy. 

“Transformation. . . meaning I’ll have Spider-Powers now?” I asked him with a curious gaze. 

“Most likely,” He nodded. “it’s how pretty much all of us got our powers, with a few exceptions,” 

Me? Spider-Powers? Maybe it was the rush of adrenaline when I fully processed it, but my brain immediately went to that scene in Hannah Montana where Jackson was complaining about working in the basement of their house, having gotten bitten by a few spiders and was anticipating getting “Spidey Powers” as he called it before doing the web sling gestures with his hands and making the sound effects. 

Peter B. placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Easy now, don’t want you fainting on us again, or barfing for that matter,”

“Sorry I zoned out there,” I rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment as I popped the lollipop out of my mouth. “Everything is just so–”

“A lot?” Peter finished the sentence for me. “Well, it’s only going to get a lot more from there,” He chuckled, snorting at his joke. 

I gave him a perplexed look before he immediately shook his head, waving it off. “Okay, that was awful, I’m sorry,” 

“Hey, an effort was made,” I reassured him as my expression turned sympathetic. 

“So, this is only a tiny taste of what the rest of HQ looks like. We’ll stop by the food court and get you some food before meeting up with Miguel,” He explained as he motioned for me to follow him outside. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour!”

I watched as he walked forward, the automatic doors opening as he stepped through and I could see the brisk white and red hallways. Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I cautiously followed him, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the bright lights of the room as we entered the main hall. 

What I saw made my jaw drop, my lollipop falling out of my mouth. The main hall was a giant room with walkways and pillars, allowing Spider-People to swing, crawl, and walk pretty much anywhere. I saw a Spider-Cop directing traffic, a Spider-Woman walking her Spider-Dog, I was so entranced by it all I almost didn’t notice a Spider-Janitor web shooting my lollipop from the ground and straight into a garbage shoot. 

“This is insane,” I gasped as I craned my neck to take in absolutely everything I could. 

“Come on, the food court is this way,” Peter tugged me along gently as I followed him down the hall.

He was kind enough to show me the normal route without needing to swing webs or wall crawl, taking a longer route. As we walked, it was hard to not notice all the stares and whispers from the other Spider-People around us. I hunched my shoulders as I tried to hide my face, shuffling closer towards Peter B. 

“I take it this doesn’t happen every day?” I asked him. 

“It has been a while since we got a new recruit to the team,” Peter B. answered as we walked, waving to some other Peter Parkers. “It’s definitely surprising seeing someone from your universe here,” 

I remembered in between my barf sessions, Miguel had mentioned that the dimension where I’m apparently from, Earth-1218 is one of if not the purest dimension in the multiverse. Superheroes aren’t supposed to exist in our world other than as fictional entities. 

I wanted to ask him further questions, but still feeling embarrassed about him seeing me so vulnerable, I didn’t pry on it. In that moment, I felt he was being patient with me, whether his intention was true or I was making things more difficult. But there wasn’t anything mistaking the sympathetic look in his eyes as he talked to me. 

If everything about my dimension is true, does he blame himself for what happened? 

Peter B. and I arrived at the cafeteria. He treated me to a Spider-Man 2099 decorative cheeseburger, fries, and a soft drink. I couldn’t help but smirk at all the themed items. So far this was becoming the most pleasant part of all this madness. The food did smell pretty good. Peter ordered the food to go so we wouldn’t keep Miguel waiting too long. 

I unwrapped the paper from the burger and took a bite out of it. It tasted pretty good too. 

“Like it?” Peter B. asked and smiled when I nodded passionately. “That’s good, that’s good. They’re some of my personal favourites to chow down here, but my favourite burger I’ve eaten is over in another buddy of mine’s dimension,” 

“Another Parker?” I asked him as I ate and walked alongside him. 

“No, no, Miles Morales,” Peter corrected with a soft smile. “He’s a really good kid. He’s been the Spider-Man of his dimension for a while now,” 

“Is he a member of the Spider-Society too?” I asked, smiling at the man. It looked like he cared for Miles quite deeply. 

I saw the look in Peter’s eyes as he paused, almost hesitating in his response before speaking, “Actually, no, he’s not. That part is a little complicated,” He suddenly became uncomfortable at the subject, his expression hanging low. 

I dropped the French fry I was about to eat back into the bag as I placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, was I not supposed to–?”

“No, no, it’s okay, no harm done,” Peter B. reassured me as we came upon a large set of doors. “It’s just been a while since I’ve last seen him. I miss him. He’s still learning the ropes and stuff so he just needs a little more experience is all,”

Passing through the doors, we left the bright main hall of the Society and entered a dark, almost gritty hallway. The room was just light enough allowing us to walk across without bumping into any computer consoles or metal beams that held the room together. 

“Ah, there you are!” A female voice spoke up as a small digital figure appeared from thin air. “Perfect timing, Jessica and Gwen are here too!”

I jumped seeing the hologram, clutching my bag of food closer to my chest. “What the?!”

“Whoops! Sorry about that, didn’t mean to scare you,” She apologized with a snicker. “I like a good jump scare, I can’t help myself,” 

“Lisa, this is Lyla, Miguel’s personal AI. She helps manage and run things here in the Society and monitors the multiverse. Lyla, this is–” Peter B. introduced me to her before Lyla zoomed in on my face. 

“Lisa from Earth-1218! I’ve been dying to meet you! Wait, I need to document this historic moment,” Lyla brought out her own virtual phone as she turned the camera to face us as she snuggled in close. “Selfie!”

The camera snapped, capturing a picture of the two of us. 

“Lyla, is that you over there?” A familiar tenor voice called out. 

“Oh, that’s the boss, shouldn’t keep him waiting. Don’t be shy now, he may look intimidating, but he’s harmless deep down,” Lyla winked over at me before flying off forward. “Yep! They’re here, Miguel, I’m bringing them to you!” 

Peter B. motioned his hand out, gesturing me to go first. I followed Lyla’s lead as she flew and zipped about the hall. We turned a corner and my lips parted open slightly as I took in the towering platform above us. 

It was littered with holographic screens and computer consoles and mixed in with it all as Miguel. I watched curiously as he reached over, grabbing some sort of injection device, attaching a green vial. He lifted it to his shoulder where part of his suit dematerialized, showing off some of his skin as he used the device to inject the serum from the vial inside of him. As he turned around, I saw the iris of his eyes change from a glowing red to a calm brown and our eyes met. 

I stopped, initially caught off guard by the gesture. Like I was a little kid getting caught by their parents doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing. My cheeks flushed slightly as I averted my gaze, not meaning to stare longer than I did. It didn’t help that I could feel his gaze still lingering on me. 

“Now that everyone is here,” A new voice caught my attention as I looked over towards Jessica Drew. Her dark hair was puffed out in a perfect afro with yellow glasses and matching hoop earring. She wore a red suit and belt around her waist that highlighted her pregnant belly. “Shall we get started?”

“Yeah, sorry about the wait,” Peter B. apologized as he stepped forward, looking up towards Miguel. “I got her some food, I figured she’d be hungry after, ya know. . .”

Miguel watched him briefly before using his red glowing web slinger to swing down from the platform, joining us all on the ground floor as he stood between Jessica and who I quickly assumed was Gwen. “Are you feeling any better?” 

I nodded gently. “Yes,” 

“Good then,” he nodded back. “Let’s not waste anymore time,”

Lyla appeared beside him as she did a gesture with her arms and suddenly white lines pulsed on the floor like a rain drop causing a ripple effect in a pond. A pure white light tree grew from the floor below us, its branches growing larger and stretching about the room until their structure and design resembled a spiderweb. Multiple webs in fact.

“This is. . . everything. All the dimensions and universes of Spider-Man connected into one giant web. They each go through canon events that push their universe’s story forward,” Miguel began as he reached his hand out and dragged the hologram along, showing us a specific web. “This is Earth-1218. Your dimension,” 

I stepped closer towards the hologram. It was strangely beautiful to look at. While the other webs were highlighted in red, mine was coloured in blue. 

“Your dimensions laws of physics and nature are so pure, that the very concept of a superhuman existing is out of the question. The science is not there,” Miguel went on as he slowly stalked around the hologram and came to my side. 

“What about the Spider that bit me? Did it come from another dimension?” I asked. 

The very question brought the memory of the Doc Ock fight back into Miguel’s mind as he replayed the moment of tossing him towards the Spider containment over and over again. He sighed, seeming tired and defeated. “Yes. Inter-dimensional travel is extremely dangerous unless you have the right tools. The spider slipped into your dimension, and when it bit you, it caused your universe to experience unplanned canon event,” 

He used his hands to zoom in on the web and upon closer inspection I saw that some of the blue lines were pulsing with white light. Like a spark of electricity. “What is it doing?” I looked over towards Miguel with a look of concern in my face. “Is my universe in danger because of this?” 

“Your universe appears to be trying to repair itself. If Peter and I didn’t find you when we did, more damage could have been done. Your universe is deciding whether or not it will accept a real Spider-Woman. Not just from your stories. If it doesn’t, the effects could be irreversible,” Miguel responded with a grim look. 

“What about. .  if I will become Spider-Woman or not?” I asked with uncertainty. 

Miguel looked at me for a hard second before web shooting my empty food bag and tossing it into the garbage shoot. I still had some fries left too! 

Miguel raised a cocky brow at me as he placed his hands on his hips. “There never was a Spider-Woman in Earth-1218, and there never will be,” 

“But Miguel,” Gwen’s voice perked up as she stepped forward. “She’s going to have powers now, right? She can’t just not use them, can’t she?”

“Gwen,” Miguel’s voice hung low as he shot her cautious glance. “Unless she wants her universe to not exist anymore, she doesn’t have a choice in that,” 

“But what if something happens that’s out of her control and they activate?” Jessica asked. “She’d be vulnerable,”  

“Out of the question. She can’t be Spider-Woman,” Miguel stated firmly. 

I coughed loudly into my first, gaining everyone’s attention. “May I say something,” I looked up towards Miguel. “Please?”

Surprised by my sudden outburst, his iris pulsed red briefly before a curious expression showed on his face. “Very well,” 

“If I can’t be Spider-Woman in my universe to preserve its existence, then fine, if it means protecting every life there. But what if I could still be Spider-Woman here?” I asked. 

“I see, you’re on to something,” Peter B. smirked, nodding in approval.

“What is she talking about? Like joining us?” Jessica looked between us all. 

My gaze returned to Miguel, my eyes pouring into his. “Train me. Let me practice here so I can better control these powers so they don’t accidental go off on me while I’m living my life,”

Miguel stared at me with a dumbfounded expression as he sighed, brushing his hand over his face and hair as he turned to the side, the gears in his head turning. 

“I understand that preserving the Multiverse is very important to you, and I want to help you in any way I can,” I stated. “But without all of your guidance, I’ll be going in blind,”

Another sigh escaped Miguel’s puffed lips as his gaze glanced back towards me, sizing me up. “Lyla, ask Margo to construct a gizmo for Lisa, please,” 

“Already did as soon as she came in,” Lyla winked. 

“Gizmo?” I repeated with a bewildered smile. 

“The Gizmo is a watch that will allow you to travel between other dimensions. In your case, between here and your dimension,” Gwen elaborated as she approached me, taking her mask off to reveal her side cut blonde hair with pink dye, eyebrow piercings, and navy blue eyes. “I’m Gwen, if that wasn’t obvious already,”

“Lisa,” I smiled as the two of us shook hands. 

“The fate of the multiverse may depend on your cooperation to this plan of yours, Lisa,” Miguel lectured softly as he stepped closer towards me. “Do you swear to only use your powers within the vicinity of the HQ?”

His stern, intimidating stare sent a shiver down my spine as he towered over me. I sucked in a breath, gulping before I stood firm, nodding my head. “I swear,”

There was a hint of a smirk on Miguel’s face as he hummed before reaching a large hand out towards mine. “Then welcome to the Spider-Society,” 

“You won’t regret this, Miguel, I’ll train hard,” I smiled as I shook his hand. His grip was firm, powerful compared to my smaller hand. I pulled back and silently cheered. “I’m ready to get started, the sooner the better!”

I fist bumped the air and felt a rush of energy course through my arm as something squirted out from my wrist. I looked up to see web fluid shoot out into the air. It hovered briefly before making a harsh descent, right into Miguel’s face. 

The room was silent as everyone looked upon the display, eyes widened as Gwen tried to hold in her laughter. I gasped, covering my mouth with my hands. “I’m so sorry! That doesn’t count does it?”

With a quiet grumble under his breath, Miguel swiftly brushed the web fluid off his face, casting it aside as he shot me a tired glance. “Like you said; The sooner the better,”

///////

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[windwheeler-aster]

your bookworm 

summary: for as long as you’ve known your partner, they’ve shown a huge interest in reading. in an attempt to bond, as well as to expand your own knowledge, you suggest going book shopping together. delighted, they bring you to their favorite book store.

masterlist

pairings (separate): diluc, albedo, jean, zhongli, and lisa x reader

reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), reader is in an established relationship, reader doesn’t read often/that much. and reader is not traveler

word count: 3,784 words

genre: Modern AU, romance, fluff

format: headcanons and blurbs

warnings: usage of death in exaggeration/common expression, coupley/lovey dovey dialogue, public displays of affection (PDA), zhongli worrying about money, and brief descriptions of buying/browsing erotica

a/n:  i’ve suggested no/little-lyric songs for background reading, to really stick to the theme. i hope you have a good time reading, folks💖(psst, if you like the songs linked here, i have a playlist on my spotify with similar music. it’s perfect for reading, studying, and writing. have a good day!!)

song recommendation: So This Is Love by Emile Pandolfi

diluc enjoys reading as a past time

he likes physical books better than their audio counterparts, mostly because he secretly enjoys the smell of a new book 

if there’s a novel/series that diluc really liked reading, he’ll go out of his way to buy the hardcover version of the book

also, all of his favorite books take up one section of his large shelf. he can be very selective with what he likes

he enjoys a mixture of non-fiction and fiction books. from his favorite celebrities’ memoirs to small collections of short poems or/and stories that have no deeper meaning

diluc says it’s only a hobby to make the time go by faster, but it has evolved into something much greater

like, if you two have nothing else to do that night, diluc will shyly ask if you want to read together before bed

it’s really just you laying on his shoulder/chest as he reads aloud one of his favorite books, slowly bringing both of you to sleep

so if you suggest to go book browsing/shopping for a date, diluc is so excited and happy 

he brings you to this big-name brand bookstore, mostly because they have all the newest best time sellers and a lot of his favorite authors

diluc doesn’t hold your hand, but holds the books you two are interested in and hovers by you instead

[more under the cut]

You knelt down to the floor, inspecting the books at the bottom shelf. One series stood out to you, admittedly because of the bright cover art. You grab one of the books, finding some difficulty pulling it out by its side. After some more effort, careful not to accidentally cut yourself on the fine paper, it was in your hands.

“That looks interesting,” Diluc murmured from above.

You stood. “Yeah, I’ve seen this book trending online recently.”

“Is it good?”

“Uh,” You flip the book over, trying to find an actual synopsis instead of the three word reviews, “I’ve heard good and bad things about it.”

Diluc grunted as an agreement. “From the cover, it looks like the main character is in a love triangle. Well, not a love triangle, but…y’know.”

“Yeah, it’s much different from other romances though,” You look on the inside sleeve for the synopsis. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard from some fans.”

The synopsis was basic, but gave you enough information to be interested. A boy has to choose between dating his best friend, a reliable and outgoing person, or the town’s local monster, an eight foot tall lizard person. Surprisingly, it is a very hard choice for this love struck boy. 

Diluc watched with a mixture of surprise and interest as you move on from the synopsis to the first chapter. He couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes shined and your lips quirked upwards as you read on. He looked around and saw one of the staff members busy helping a customer, their eyes glancing over to the two of you. 

Diluc would hate for you to get told off for just reading a little more into this book before buying it. He looked over to you and cleared his throat lightly, gaining your attention briefly. 

“My dear, if you’re really interested in it, you can always read it at home.”

“Oh, I am definitely buying this,” You say after closing the book. “The first page is enough to get me hooked.”

Diluc quirked his brows. “Is it really that interesting?”

“You’re going to have to read it to find out,” you handed the book to him with a smile. “We can read it together, if you’re really that curious. I know romance books aren’t really your favorite, but it might be fun.”

A smile slowly crept onto his soft lips. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” You looked around, making sure that no one was looking, and then kissed him. “Now, let’s get you some new books.”

Diluc’s free hand brushed against his own lips, a swooning expression on his face. Slowly, he nods after a moment passes.

“Right… right. I believe the memoirs are over here,” He breathes out, absentmindedly finding your hand with his own. “This way, dear.”

song recommendation: The Flower Garden by Joe Hisaishi

albedo is a fast reader, going through lengthy work documents at a pace that scares everyone nearby

however he doesn’t enjoy all the wordy research papers that wait on his desk

but you know what albedo does enjoy reading? fantasy!!!

he likes to get lost in books, especially when the worldbuilding is so much different from reality

albedo usually reads the long fantasy series. the ones that have an average of 800 pages per book, with 12 books in one series

however, due to the book’s length, albedo usually does a mix of listening to the audiobook version and reading his paper copy

it just works for him, okay? don’t judge him!!!

reading with albedo might not be the best idea, as he’s usually really far into a series or book and he’d hate to spoil it for you

but if you ask about albedo’s favorite character, he will certainty talk about them for hours 

he for sure has made fanart of some of his favs, but he mostly keeps them to himself

albedo will be so delighted if you ever suggest going book shopping with him! in fact, he’s already grabbing his to-read list and wallet

he would take you to a local bookstore, somewhere with a great reading atmosphere and affordable prices

albedo would have you trail around with him between the isles, elbows interlocked of course, whispering to you about the books he’s been dying to read

You leaned closer to Albedo, smirking as you tried to read over his shoulder. He was totally sucked into this book, carelessly flipping page after page as he loitered in the aisle. He didn’t even protest when you rested your chin on his shoulder. Albedo’s eyes only sparkled as he read on, making your heart flutter in the process. 

“Is it good?” you whispered, catching his attention finally, “you just seem to be really enjoying it, that’s all.”

“I really like it, actually. The author has a really refreshing writing style, and they’ve really caught my interest in just a few pages—” Albedo’s voice trailed off as he glanced to you. “Sorry, um, I just really like it so far. This book has been on my reading list for ages and…”

You placed the book onto Albedo’s stack, holding it very securely against your chest. “No, no, please, tell me more. I like it when you talk about your things you’re passionate about,” you shyly glance away from him, diverting your attention to the spines of some fantasy comic books. “It’s, um… it’s really cute, honestly.”

“The way you’re looking away is pretty cute too,”

“I’m not looking away!” you retort, crouching down to the comic books’ shelf, “I just got really interested in this comic book, that’s all.” 

Albedo crouched down with you, slowly looking away from your face and to the books. He watched you caress the book’s spine, moving your lips slightly and furrowing your brows. His lips twitched upwards when he saw you pull it out, intently reading the synopsis on the back.

“I’m pretty sure that’s called a graphic novel,” he whispered.

You hummed in response, too busy reading to give him a proper response. He frowned slightly and leaned over, now reading over your shoulder. 

The book’s art looked pretty, but Albedo’s jaw relaxed slightly as he read the synopsis too. This graphic novel told the story of the out casted sorceress, ignored and bullied since she first showed signs of magical powers. But after suffering alone for so long, the sorceress finally accepts her role as the “bad guy.” Everyone else has already, except for this annoyingly persistent witch who swears she sees the good in the sorceress. The witch is determined to make the sorceress realize this, going above and beyond to prove— Oh, you’ve already turned to the first page. Fun.

“This looks really good,” he whispered, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. 

You opened up to the first page, idly stroking the page with one finger as you marveled over the art. “Right? It’s so… so beautiful, I think I could stare at this all day.”

 “I distinctly remember you saying something similar to me the other day,” he snickered. “Don’t tell me that I’ve already been replaced by a book.”

You turned away from the book and gave a quick peck to his left cheek, laughing into his porcelain skin. “First of all, it’s a beautiful book,” you leaned further over and kissed his lips, “and second, I’d never replace you, dear. Nothing and no one in this world could ever replace you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you chuckle, pulling both him and yourself up off the floor, “now let’s get the rest of your books before we get yelled at for reading in a bookstore.”

“Aw, really? I was just losing the feeling in my knees and legs,” he groaned as he stood up fully, “now I gotta wake ‘em up again.”

“I love you,” you breathed out, intertwining your elbow with his, “but if we keep using this bookstore as our own library, I don’t think we’ll be allowed back.”

He smiled. “I know. And… I love you, too, by the way.”

“Good. Now, you said something about a book of short stories complied together... something we both could read?”

“Right, right, I believe we passed it in the horror section,” he turned the two of you around, carefully guiding you to follow him, “come on, dear, this way!”

song recommendation: Menuet by Toshifumi Hinata

despite reading work papers at lightening speed, jean is a pretty slow reader

she just really likes taking her time reading books, savouring each chapter that she finishes... don't judge her please

secretly a big fan of romance & mystery, both as separate genres and when they’re put together

jean reads more stand alone novels than series, honestly

it’s only because she likes seeing her favorite characters get their happy ending and character arc in only one book it’s also because she has little to no patience to read a series longer than 3 books

jean doesn’t really like audiobooks. there’s no really big reason why... she just doesn’t like them

but jean wears earbuds whenever she reads at home. it’s easier for her to concentrate with background noise she can control

her music is at a low volume though, so she’ll hear you if you need anything

if you ever offer to read aloud for her when she’s really tired, jean just absolutely melts

congratulations, you now have a very lovesick jean who would do anything for you while you read to her

jean will blush pretty hard if you make eye contact with her while reading some lovey dovey dialogue

if you ever suggest going book shopping with jean, she’ll be incredibly happy

she would take you to local bookstore with a great cafe nearby, ordering you two something to drink while you shopped together

Wordlessly, Jean handed over your to-go cup. She smiled once her eyes met your own, letting a quiet chuckle escape. In one swift action, Jean intertwines her fingers into your own. 

“Thank you so much for coming with me,” she murmurs, leading you further into the quaint bookshop. “I know that with our busy schedules it can make it quite difficult but… But I really do appreciate it.”

You took a sip of your drink, smiling into the cup’s opening. “No problem, sweet heart. Afterall, I’ve been dying to see the more bookish and nerdy side of you.”

“Oh, stop it you—” she said, her voice trailing off as Jean spots something interesting. “Oh, actually, hold onto that thought, honey.”

Jean drifted away from you, stopping in front of a table of best-selling romance books. Her fingers trailed over each cover, even if it was the elven couple or cyberpunk lovers. Jean gave each one a bored look, barely turning the books around to read the synopsis. Finally, you saw something that caught Jean’s eye.

You watched her reach down to a monochrome book, the two romantic leads posing suggestively on the cover. She inspected it for a moment, tilting her head and letting her ponytail fall onto her shoulder.

"Oh, she's pretty," you murmur, "not as pretty as you, though, sweetheart."

Jean tsked. “Oh, stop it you. You’re going to make me blush if you keep it up.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

She looked away from the cover, a light blush finding its way to her cheeks. Jean leaned into your side as she did so, trying her best to keep her adorable laughter to a low volume. You glanced around and saw some other customers and a staff member give her a curious look, which made you put a protective hand around her waist. Slowly pulling your eyes away from them, you looked back at your girlfriend with adoration. 

“What’s the book about?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink. “It looks really interesting.”

“I think it’s about this…” Jean flips the book over, squinting slightly to read the synopsis, “this time traveling and reincarnated couple? Like, every few years they find each other but then they lose each other. It’s their thirteenth time meeting each other now, and… and they’ve finally found a clue to why this keeps happening,” she pauses for a moment, exhaling heavily. “Pretty interesting, right?”

“This looks so good, oh my goodness,” you say, peering at the same synopsis she was looking at. “Sweetie, we have to get this.”

“Really? You… you don’t think it’s a little too much or…” Jean trailed off, eyeing the price tag.

“If we buy it, we can read it as many times as we want,” you reminded her, tracing a light circle into her waist.

Jean sucked on her bottom lip, freeing it once she made her decision. “Alright, as long as we get to read it together.” 

song recommendation: (forever?????????) by glass beach

whenever he can, zhongli reads

whether that be in between rides to and from work, while waiting for clients, or when he’s alone with some free time

he’s a big fan of angsty and deep stories, something with a huge twist at the end

zhongli reads an unhealthy amount of angst

his favorite tropes are probably one-sided love, something about that makes him feel so much

also when one of them dies, or both of them

zhongli doesn’t really cry whenever he reads, he mostly just sighs in sympathy for what the characters are going through

he doesn’t understand audio books really well, and it’s odd to hear someone who talks like him read it back

so he would much rather just read it on his own, thank you

although...zhongli is a sucker for you. so if you ever ask for him to read to you, it’s an almost always guaranteed

he genuinely smiles when he notices that he’s put you to sleep, pressing a sweet kiss onto your forehead

so, imagine the smile on zhongli’s face when you show him this bookstore you found

and when your offer to pay for them? there are literal hearts in his eyes as he guides you around

Zhongli handed you another book while his eyes scanned the spines of each book on this shelf. Before accepting the book, you stare at him for a moment. You quietly admire the way his brows furrow slightly, how his amber eyes narrowed as he read book titles. The way his gloved hands skimmed each book made you envious of the books. 

Eventually, you accepted the book and placed it on top of the others. Once you adjusted yourself, balancing the six books in your arms flawlessly, you looked back down to your lover. 

“You seem to be picking a lot of science fiction books today,” you commented, raising yourself on the ball of your heels, “that’s a little out of the ordinary for you, isn’t it?”

He hummed, pulling out another book. This one was slimmer than the others, with a blue flower encased in ice on the cover. Another soon to be Young Adult classic, you thought. 

“I think I picked out a few horrors too,” Zhongli responded. “I’m going to try and branch out in other genres.”

You tilted your head back up when he began to rise from the ground. “Y’know it’s nice to read some uplifting and happy stuff too, right?”

He shook his head, chuckling. “To you, perhaps, but I find satisfaction in even the saddest of—” Zhongli stopped himself from placing the book onto your pile, slowly sucking in a breath as he eyed it. “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think to limit myself—”

“It’s fine, Zhongli,” you assure him, adjusting your hands’ placement on the books, “really, I don’t mind.” 

“Dear, we can leave a few of these behind. Really, I don’t mind at all. I don’t want to empty your wallet over me—”

“Please don’t worry about it,” you say, “I like doing these types of things for you. It makes me happy to see you happy, darling.”

Zhongli hesitated for a moment. He looked at the books in your arms again, guilt weighing him down. He didn’t even look at the price tags, this outing was sure to put a dent into your savings. But then Zhongli looked at your eyes and those worries disappeared.

“I love you so much,” he breathed out suddenly.

You smiled at him. “Well, I love you too. Now, you want to go shopping some more or call it a day?”

“We can stop here,”

“You’re sure?” 

Zhongli inched closer to you and gave you a simple kiss on the cheek, not caring if someone spotted you two. “Positive.”

song recommendation: By Your Side. by Omori

lisa is a literally a librarian. she reads day and night, as though her life depends on it

you’d think she would be sick of reading, but lisa usually finds something interesting to pass the time

if you ask lisa, you’ll discover that’s she tediously working her way through all of the library books. yes, she is slowly going insane at the process

doesn’t listen to audio books because she doesn’t want her life to be totally overtaken with books

lisa for sure is a booktuber. no doubts about it.

she has a decent subscribers to viewers ratio, but lisa doesn’t care too much about the income it brings

it really is just a youtube channel where she can be passionate about some of her favorite authors and series

you have accidently become a beloved member of the channel, with hundreds of comments gushing about you

lisa makes sure to read each one to you, ignoring any of the odd hate comments of course

also exclusively reads books from the library, rarely ever buying books

until you suggest going to this quaint local secondhand bookstore, promising to treat her to any of the books she wanted

before you could say another word, lisa is excitedly asking you for the bookstore’s address and stuffing things into a spare tote bag

You and Lisa snuck through the aisle, despite the store being advertised as filming friendly. You lowered her go pro as you passed other customers, getting some filler footage of your shoes and the hem of Lisa’s skirt. Once you had successfully dodged them, offering them a polite “good afternoon” before walking onwards,you turned on the go pro.

“You wanna get some filler footage first?” you asked, eyeing the books to your right. “Something you can speak over when you edit?”

“Actually,” Lisa said, inching closer to you, “I’d really like to just spend some one on one time with you. Without the cameras.”

“Oh, yeah, I’d really like that too,” you stammer, quickly shutting off the go pro.

She giggled, placing the go pro into her bag. “You know, you’re pretty cute when you get flustered.”

“Lisa, I swear,” you trail off, trying your best to ignore the growing heat in your cheeks. “So, you said on the way here you wanted to find some… trashy erotica?”

“Oh my god, thank you so much for reminding me,” She grasped onto your wrist, pulling you along as she tried to navigate through the aisles. “I feel like we passed that aisle— Oh! Right there!”

Before you knew it, Lisa had pulled you into the aisle. Some of the books on the shelves had simple cover art, nothing really risque. But then they were placed right next to the extremely suggestive titles, with somehow even more suggestive covers. As Lisa fawned over each book, pulling you along eagerly, you suddenly found the floor to be much more interesting.

“Hm, it seems the owner put their donated romance books here too,” She murmured, gently pulling you over to another side of the shelf. “Oh, dear! Look at this, I think you’d really like it!”

Carefully, you peeled your eyes away from the floor and looked at Lisa. Then your eyes drifted away from her mischievous ones, finally settling on the book she held in her hand.

It was actually a pretty cute book. The cover art was bright and colorful, depicting two people working hard in a kitchen. You felt a smile grace your lips as you opened the book up, reading the small message scribbled into the book’s first pages. Then you turned to the first chapter, a little eager for a taste of what this book had in store.

“You’re not even going to read the synopsis?”  

You looked up from the book. “Wait, am I supposed to?”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Lisa reassured. “I was just so surprised that you started reading it immediately.”

“Well, of course!” You beamed. “You suggested it, and I just assumed that with all your reading history… you really did know what you were talking about.”

She smiled at you, her eyes crinkling at the very edges. She grabbed the edge of the book you held, lowering it away from your face. Lisa gave you a gentle kiss, smiling into it as your cheeks burned. When she pulled away, Lisa had the cockiest grin equipped. 

“You have no idea how much it means to hear that from you, my love,” she whispered. “Now, let’s go head over to the horror section before I just start sounding like a love interest in one of these books.”

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

[poledancingdinos]

You’ve Got Me Hooked - Chapter 3

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Riley McKenzie)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Sex work, Stripper, OnlyFans

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @peaches1958​ @identity2212 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond​ @amberangel112​

A/N: If you want to be added or removed from my taglist, let me know!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Sy

As payment for helping me move my stuff into the new apartment, I’m hosting a football night, something I haven't done since before I started living with Lisa. Somehow, I never realized all the little things I gave up for her. I love having the guys over. Luke is very much a slob when he lives alone and Jared doesn’t like making a mess that his wife will feel compelled to clean up despite his insistence that she let him do it. That woman is a Saint and always has been.

"So how has it been living with a girl as a roommate?” Luke asks. “Is it as painful as living with your ex?"

No, it isn’t painful at all except for the damn partial I seem to sport every time I catch a glimpse of her in those booty shorts she prances around in when she doesn’t realize I’m home. Okay, prancing is an exaggeration but it doesn’t make it any less distracting.

When I came in to meet Riley, I expected to find a selfish, self-absorbed princess that I would have to pretend to get along with out of desperation to finally have a place of my own again but instead I found a shy, reserved young girl who had to invite a stranger into her life just to make ends meet.

"Honestly at this point I don't know if I have a roommate or if I own a cat," I say around a mouthful of pizza.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jared laughs, passing me a fresh bottle of beer before twisting the cap off his own and throwing it into the bin across the room.

I raise my hand counting off the reasons on my fingers as I speak. "I never see her ‘cause if she’s home she's hiding out in her room. The only evidence that she is even around is the fact that she leaves food out for me from time to time and that I find her hair fucking everywhere. Then there’s the fact that she spends more time up at night than she does during the day."

I sound harsh but the truth is that I find all of those little things rather endearing.

"Sounds like a fucking dream to me,” Sam says. “You get all the perks of living alone with half the price."

"Nah,” Luke counters, shaking his head, “sounds to me like your apartment is haunted and you're actually living with a ghost. Do you even know what she looks like?"

Yes, I do. In fact, I can’t get her face out of my fucking horny head. 

"Yeah, I met her before I moved in and I've seen her cookin’ breakfast a few times on my way out to work but that's ‘bout it."

"Don't ya leave for work at like 5:30 AM?” Jared asks, pausing with his beer half raised to his lips. “Shit,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “you two really are perfect for each other. Who the hell cooks that early?" 

"Is she hot?"

Before I even have time to think about it, the pizza crust in my hand is flying across the room and hitting Luke on the side of the head.

"It don't fuckin’ matter if she's hot I'm not shittin' where I eat." Yes, Riley is most definitely hot — fucking gorgeous even — but I’m not about to admit that out loud.

"I wasn't asking for you, I was asking for me." The man wiggles his eyebrows at me and I hesitate to throw another piece of food at Luke but all that’s left on my plate is a chicken wing and I have no interest in cleaning barbecue sauce off the couch. 

"What's her name again?" Jared asks, pulling his phone from his back pocket.

I really don’t want them looking her up online but if I give in, there is a chance this conversation will move on to a safer topic.

"Riley McKenzie."

He types Riley’s name into his phone and there’s a moment of awkward silence as he scrolls through the results.

"What kind of modern woman doesn't have a Facebook profile? Does she use a nickname or something?"

I don’t let them see how relieved I am that he hasn’t found her and keep my attention on the game.

"I have no idea, you know I'm not into that shiet."

Sam’s phone dings and it seems to be the end of the whole roommate conversation. The sports announcer on the TV starts talking more excitedly, pulling the guys' attention back to the big screen. Jared stands, yelling as if the players on the field will hear him through the TV. When our team manages to score a touchdown, Luke and I join in the cheering and the two of them high-five each other. Meanwhile, Sam still has his ass in his seat, staring at his phone and Jared punches him on the shoulder.

"Bro, what the fuck, you just missed a fucking beautiful play!" 

"I'll catch it on the highlights later, right now I'm watching a stripper give another stripper a lap dance while drinking a shot from between her tits."

"Woah, I wanna get in on that." Luke extends his arm, beckoning Sam closer.

"Can't ya watch that later?” Jared complains, reluctantly moving from the middle spot and letting Sam slide over.

“I've had enough of hearing other guys jack off next to me to last a lifetime, don’t do it on my fucking couch,” I plead with them.

"This is live and it's probably gonna get shut do—" Both guys groan, their heads falling in disappointment.

"You were sayin'?" I ask with a smirk.

"TikTok doesn't normally let Razzy go live for all that long before she gets shut down. She mostly uses it as a way to boost the interest for her OnlyFans account. You gotta pay to see the real good stuff."

There are so many things about that sentence that I don’t understand but I don’t care enough to ask him to explain.

"Ya know, I'm pretty sure checking out strippers on the internet while in a relationship is just as bad as going to a club every Friday night." I lean back in my chair crossing my ankle over my other knee.

"Come on Sy, you know I don't keep secrets from my girl. We watch the videos together, it gets her off." Sam winks, sporting a proud grin like he thinks every man would be envious of him.

I look back at the television screen, seeing the timer in the corner tick down to zero, announcing the start of halftime. I pick up the remote, pressing the mute button before the annoyingly loud commercials start.

"Since you're paying for her account anyway, why don't you show us the videos that seem to be better than you at satisfying your girl." Luke sounds a little too desperate for a guy who’s most likely had four different women in his bed this month alone.

"Fuck you, I'm plenty capable of getting her off on my own but since you asked so nicely," he types something into his phone before turning the screen towards his right so Luke can see the video, "this is what I get to watch while my girl chokes on my cock."

I nearly spit out my beer, forcing myself to swallow before a coughing fit takes over. The three men on the couch look my way, wearing equal expressions of concern.

"You good man?"

I nod my head furiously, holding my hand up for Jer to give me a second. They keep their eyes on me and I know there is no way that I can brush this off. When my breathing steadies out, I tip my head to the phone which now lays forgotten on Sam's lap.

"That's her,” I blurt out without thinking and immediately regretting my words.

There’s a moment of confusion while Sam looks down at the girl on his screen. The focus of the camera is on her body as she dances on the pole in nothing but a red lace bodysuit but her profile is still fully visible.

I swallow the lump in my throat clarifying my statement. "That's Riley."

All three men are stunned silent for a second but of course, Luke has an unhelpful comment to break the tension.

"Oh shit! Sy's living with a porn star!"

"Stripper," I grumble, palming the back of my neck.

"Oh no, trust me, that video was tame. Her racy solo clips definitely count as porn and last month she was in Vegas trying out some new girl on girl shit too."

"Fuck, stop! I don't wanna know.” I throw my hands up, rising from my seat in a desperate attempt to escape the current conversation.

"Why not!” Luke calls after me. “This is epic you could fuck a porn star — that's the dream!"

I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Luke, no offence but if your biggest dream in life is to fuck a porn star, ya need to rethink your priorities."

"Be honest, when's the last time you got laid?"

I’m not particularly inclined to answer that question but I know my friend well enough to be sure he’s nowhere close to dropping the subject. Luke is like a shark and women are his blood. Not the best metaphor in the world but it’s pretty accurate. If he gets a hint of interest, he won’t let go and I’d rather he not make it his life’s mission to fuck Riley for the sake of being the first to do so. She deserves better — not that I think I’m a better choice, I just mean he’d take my attraction as competition. I lean back against the kitchen counter, grasping it with both hands until the edge is uncomfortably digging into my palms.

"Not since before I shipped off for the last time."

"Woah, really?" Jared exclaims, turning to face me with one arm over the back of the couch. He’s been my best friend since we were 14 years old when Jared transferred to my school. One of the things I like about him is the fact that he’s completely smitten with his wife and understands my desire to settle down one day rather than chase women like our other friends. He’s genuinely surprised by my answer but his tone isn't the least bit mocking.

"Lisa didn't exactly welcome me back with open arms,” I admit with a sigh. “Maybe I should have just cheated on her, at least then her anger towards me woulda been warranted."

He gets up from the couch, stacking all the dirty plates by the sink.

"We both know you would never do that. Just like we both know ya aren’t gonna make a move on Riley, are ya?"

At least Jared has my back.

“No, I’m not,” I say honestly. “She’s been cagey about her job since I moved in, I doubt she ever wanted me to even know ‘bout any of this. I’m not gonna bring it up and I still maintain that hookin’ up with her while we live together would be a bad idea no matter what the circumstances may be.”

I just have to pray I never see another one of those videos because I can barely keep my dick in check as it is. When she’s not wearing those damn shorts it’s tight fitting yoga pants that show off her curves in all the right ways and it’s fucking excruciating. So far, it’s taken every ounce of my focus to keep images of her from slipping into my mind when I take care of myself in the mornings.

A stripper. Shy, quiet, can’t even look at me when I’m shirtless, Riley, is a stripper. And a porn star, Luke's voice adds in my head. Fuck. I don’t know what to do with this information but all the little things I know about her seem to fall into place. How long did she expect this secret would stay hidden? More importantly, why am I hurt that she didn’t trust me enough to just tell me?

Chapter 4

[clairelsonao3]

Happy STS! Today, I'm pulling away from characters (finally 🤭) and asking about influences. Who are your literary influences? Can you see specific influences coming through in some of your specific works?

Happy ST(T)! Thanks for ask, Tori!

Back when I was doing my MFA and writing more literary fiction, I used to cite Margaret Atwood as a major influence, which is probably still true to some extent, in terms of her writing style and because her best-known work is dystopian fiction. At least one person (hi @tabswrites) has compared GSNBTR to The Handmaid's Tale, even though I was definitely NOT thinking of that when I conceived of it.

I'd actually say some of the biggest influences on GSNBTR were the modern slavery AU fanfics (and some original fics) I found on Ao3, which gave me an idea of what was possible with that trope. That said, I think of GSNBTR as sort of the love child that gets conceived when a slavery AU fanfic meets a contemporary M/F romance (peppered with mystery/thriller elements and other weird/nerdy stuff unique to me, of course). However, I don't pick up that much contemporary romance these days, just because so little of it tends to satisfy my, uh, very specific tastes. Two that I did get into in the past few years were Hard Time by Cara McKenna (a standalone that I wish was a series) and the Devil's Rock series by Sophie Jordan, which although I didn't love everything about them, definitely helped familiarize me with many of the conventions of contemporary (spicy) romance, which absolutely have filtered their way down.

When it comes to the mystery and thriller elements, I would be remiss not to admit my fondness for Pretty Little Liars, which I was a fan of despite being already well out of my teens when it was popular. I actually deliberately set out to read it after deciding to write a YA thriller and realizing that I hadn't actually read any YA in years😅. Obviously, that was probably more of an influence on The Adored. More recently, I've probably taken more from the twisty, intricately plotted adult thrillers of Harlan Coben, Karin Slaughter, and Lisa Gardner.

Of course, speaking of very specific tastes, as time has gone by and I started getting more and more into the Tumblr whump community, I can definitely see some of the wonderful stories I've read here filter their way in as influences, as well. Thanks, friends!