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imagine-turtles · 2 years

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Oooookokokokok Let's say one of their friend needs to find a new place to live and they offer to let them stay at the lair for a few months, what's it like to live here? The good stuff, the bad stuff, maybe reader gets a crush or maybe it just stays platonic, how do the boys handle it, how does splinter handles it, etc etc. Yknow, the good stuff :3

Also dude I hope you and your fam are ok!! <3

We’re all good here--just busy! I’m trying out a little change of perspective since you specifically mentioned “reader” so we’ll see how that goes.

LEONARDO

Lays down the law before agreeing to even have you stay with them. He and his brothers have rules, and he’s sure you do too, so he’d rather just make sure the living arrangement is compatible before committing.

Generally, chores are divided up among the family, but Leo is perfectly content to leave you to your own laundry, dishes, etc… so long as you don’t make too much of a mess in someone else’s jurisdiction.

(Offering to pencil yourself into the chore chart is an easy way to gain Leo’s approval, with even more brownie points if you insist after he politely refuses.)

He doesn’t want anyone in your space unless you invite them in, and makes it clear that any problems you have should go directly to him. Hates hearing about issues secondhand, even if it’s for something as little as a new lightbulb. It’s just part of how Leo thinks your living situation should work; offering the respect of keeping him in the loop.

If you’re a decent housemate, and mesh well with Leo’s personality, he’ll definitely develop a crush. He’ll try to convince himself he’s just adjusting to a new person in the house, then that he’s realized it’s possible to have a relationship, then that he likes the idea of a relationship and you just happen to be there. And of course he’s imagining you in that scenario; you’re the only person he’s ever seen in this situation. His brain is just drawing parallels the only way it knows how.

He hears Donnie’s “well, actually” tone so clearly that he decides to never commit to his theory out loud.

He’ll buckle under the weight of his own feelings if you start taking an interest in his interests, the ones he doesn't really share with his brothers.

Leo might tear up if you put in the time, trial, and error to brew tea just how he likes. Even if you don’t quite get it right every time. Or the first twenty times.

RAPHAEL

Less stressed than Leo, but just barely and for completely unrelated reasons.

Reason number one: HATES having people in the lair when he’s taking a shit. This man can destroy a toilet on a level that, considering his mutant status, could literally be classified as a BSL-4. How the hell is he supposed to shit when there’s constantly someone over?

Do not talk to him through the bathroom door unless someone's dying. Don't even acknowledge he's in there. Surefire way to piss him off.

Drags his feet cleaning his room because, duh, he’d rather die than let you just hang out in there. What would you even do, look at his stuff? Absolutely not. His brothers don’t even hang out in his room.

(The exception is if he already has a crush on you--then all he cares about is cleaning his room, despite never actually inviting you in. Might have to take a little initiative.)

Raph might swing back and forth between a ton of interaction and hardly seeing you. He’ll want to make sure you’re doing alright and that you don’t think he’s ignoring you; at the same time he’s afraid you might get tired of hanging out, and needs time to recharge.

He’ll be much more comfortable spending time with you if you let him know you’re perfectly content to just be near him while you each do your own thing. Not much conversation required.

If Raph’s desperately trying to convince himself he’s not into you, having you around the lair just about puts him in an early grave. Having you here--living in his house, with him--just makes the fantasy that much more real. This could be your life. Every day. Together.

DONATELLO

Initially offers to just put you up in an extended-stay hotel, or an apartment, and even floats the idea of having you crash at Vern’s place. It’s not that Donnie doesn’t want you around the lair--you’re welcome, of course--but he already knows it’s going to be a massive headache. Leo and Raph are going to be stressed, he’s going to have to make those repairs he’s been putting off, they’re all going to have to clean, just… ugh.

Not to mention how inconvenient it would be for you to live with them. In a sewer. What if you hurt yourself, or fall ill, or get lost in the pipes? What if you get sick of them, after being forced to spend so much time down in the lair?

He’ll make sure you have access to everything you need in your space, and even help with a few upgrades… eventually. Don’s a busy guy, and he might not find the time to help right away, but a particularly observant houseguest might figure out that trading favors for favors will bump their request to the top of the list. Especially if you at least try to put in a little effort yourself before asking him.

You might notice Donnie doing a lot of staring at you, and when questioned he simply tells you he’s zoning out. The truth of the matter is that he hasn’t had a lot of opportunity to look at many humans up close, and he’s just checking out all the body parts he doesn’t have.

Shuffles you far, far away the second Leo and Raph start to get into it. Having an audience only makes them self-conscious and exacerbates the tension; he’d hate for you to be around all that, or god forbid, try to play mediator.

Donnie knows it’s not unusual to develop a crush on people that you spend a lot of time around, but figures since he’s aware of this he’ll be immune to any proximity-based attraction.

This is not correct. In fact, he might rival Mikey in terms of how quickly he develops a crush once he realizes how easy living with you can be. It’s even worse if you start doing little things, like figuring out how he likes his coffee or texting him at the store to ask if he wants anything.

You'll know he's down bad when he lets you get into his stuff: his lab, his desk, his snacks, his room, his bed--even his computer, after he hides anything incriminating. What's his is yours.

MICHELANGELO

Tidies up as if you’re going to be hanging out exclusively in his room. He doesn’t fully clean it, mind, just kinda sorts everything into piles and makes sure it’s not gross. Howl’s Moving Castle vibes--if you know, you know.

Man shits himself to death at least once a week. Unlike Raph, he'll text you to let you know he's fighting for his life in there. Not afraid to have a conversation through the bathroom door.

Writes a HUGE list of things to do while you’re staying in the lair, makes a playlist of videos to watch, marks places to show you, the whole shebang. You might have to sit him down and explain that you don’t need to be entertained every second of every day.

Perfect opportunity to do a bunch of shit his brothers won’t do with him; not out of malice, simply because they don’t have the time, or the motivation, or the general interest.

Like Raph, he’d benefit from the reassurance that you don’t mind just existing in the same space while you each do your own activity. Otherwise, he may wear himself down being “on” all the time.

Thinks it’s sooo funny to take you out around the sewers and pretend to get lost. Does it just to see what you’ll do, and insists it’s because he’s trying to find out who would be the best partner in a survival situation. Also, he had four hours to kill.

Mikey develops crushes fairly easily, and living with you would only exacerbate an existing crush or spark a new one entirely. The novelty of seeing a human toodle around the lair doing human things (albeit the same shit they do) never gets old.

He’ll take any kind of heat for you if you do the dishes on his turn. Seriously. Clogged toilet, stained furniture, stolen leftovers, scuff marks on Raph’s bike--Mikey will own up to nearly anything for a clean sink.

SPLINTER

Totally hoping their guest hooks up with one of his sons. He’ll outright admit it, too. What better way to get closer to one of the boys and test their ability to live together?

Probably the most relaxed. Doesn’t really worry about the whole thing; he’s old, he’s done enough worrying. Figures Leo will do most of it for him, anyways.

Straight up tells the boys to lock their doors and keep it down if they’re going to be boning their guest. Chose to announce this in the middle of dinner the night before your arrival just to fuck with them. Thinks he’s hilarious.

He is.

#dianounais #tmnt #leonardo #raphael #donatello #michelangelo #tmnt bayverse #tmnt imagines #teenage mutant ninja turtles #splinter

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memeadonna · 3 years

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Anything for You, Baby

Hello everyone! This is a short little thirst story I wrote for @sendhelpimstupid featuring Sugar Baby Kirishima. The stunning art can be found here. Please visit her page and show her some love!

This story is 18+. Minors DNI

Warnings: Sugar Baby/Sugar Mommy Relationship, Premature Ejaculation, Cross-Dressing, Sub Kirishima, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Mild Choking, Scratching and Biting Mentioned, Vaginal Intercourse, I wrote this in like 3 hours sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes

Word Count: 2,562

Of all the things you were thankful for in life, people were always surprised when you mentioned Kirishima's expensive taste. Your entire relationship had started because he hadn't noticed how much money he'd been spending until one day he was overdrawn. He hadn't added up the totals of his expenses in his head, hadn't realized every time he swiped his card that money left his account. He liked the finer things in life, and how was he supposed to know that his bank account was meant to last him all of his first semester? His parents had told him "figure it out", so he couldn't even ask them for help.

Being at a hero school was tough already – he could barely even enjoy the city nightlife since he was stuck at the dorms between classes doing homework. He didn't even have enough time to get a job outside of school hours. Maybe he wasn't cut out for university, let alone at a prestigious hero school.

You had noticed Kirishima's state of panic, and when he confessed to everyone in the dorm that he was out of money, people (Bakugou and his other friends) had made fun of him. Uraraka and Iida had stepped in immediately, chastising them for mocking him. He tried to play it off as no big deal, that he'd figure it out, and the conversation shifted elsewhere.

You'd been born into a wealthy family like Iida and Momo, and on top of that you'd had your own job throughout high school, so you'd saved up lots of money already. "I could hire you," you told him after everyone had left for the night. "Pay you to do things for me."

"I don't need your charity," he'd snapped back. "Did Bakugou put you up to this?"

"I just thought I'd offer to help you since we're friends," you answered calmly, before getting up and heading to your dorm. That night you'd sat up late regretting ever asking him if he needed help.

Early the next morning he was at your door. "What kind of things?" was the first thing he asked, as you rubbed your eyes and blinked up at him blearily. You made him repeat himself twice because the words didn't stick in your brain this early.

"Clean my room, do my laundry," you'd finally told him, offering what you hoped was a kind smile. "Other things when I want them." The blush he gave you at those words more than made up for his harshness last night.

You'd started slowly, of course. You gave him rewards for handing in assignments on time, taken him out to dinner when he got good grades, and little treats for random things. "Do I always need a reason, baby?" you'd asked him one night as he examined the concert tickets, you'd just given him. You'd been delighted to accept the ticket he gave back to you and had secretly smiled to yourself as Denki had whined and complained that Kirishima had promised to take him! But that was back when Kirishima was spending his money on everything. Now he was just spending it on himself.

One day, half-joking, you'd gifted him a French Maid outfit to clean your room in. It was just a little too tight for him (he couldn't even do the zipper up!), but it was the creamy white stockings and cute little heels you were interested in. He tried his hardest to clean your room, but after the third time he rolled his ankle, he ended up with you in his lap, and let's just say that your relationship changed from there.

You'd pushed him back into your bed and felt him up beneath the skirts and ruffles. You left a smattering of dark hickies over his neck and collarbones, moving down his body with clear intent. He was beet red, sitting up and panting as he watched you with wide eyes. Your hands slipped below his skirts and trailed up his legs, and you watched him squirm. "Aw," you teased, revelling in your victory. "What's wrong, does the baby like getting dressed up all cute and ravaged?"

He stammered with a reply for a moment, but you dipped under his skirt and the breathy gasp he let out as you began to kiss up his thighs was more than worth it. A part of you wanted to pull back out and apply lipstick so you could leave more evidence of your kisses, but there was no way in hell you were going to back down now. You settled for more hickies and a few bites, and by the time you reached your prize, he was hard and throbbing.

You were the only person with a dorm on your floor (luck of the draw), so you didn't dare tell him he should quiet down his moaning, especially not as you slid the lacy panties reverently down his thighs.

It was clearly his first time, and he was squirming in your grip as you gave him a teasing lick. A part of you wanted to pull back and tease him some more, but this was too good to pass up. He threw an arm over his eyes and slipped his other hand into your hair. He arched his back as you raked your nails down his thighs, and let out the sweetest noise you'd ever heard, blowing his load directly in your face before you could even get him into your mouth. After you'd finished laughing and wiped his spunk off of your face, you'd given him the sweetest kiss on the cheek. He'd gone beet red as you laughed, and hadn't said no when you promised him a shopping spree because he was just so good for you.

The sales lady at the lingered store had been surprisingly accommodating when you'd asked her if they carried up to a 3X.

He'd been your sugar baby for all of first year, even after he got his own allowance from his parents. He'd been your boyfriend the rest of your university career (of course, you still liked to treat your spoiled baby), and a few years out of school he'd asked you to marry him, with that same sweet expression he always had when he told you he loved you.

The world saw Red Riot as a strong, manly hero that took shit from nobody. They also saw him as hopelessly in love with you (or with Dynamight, depending on which magazine you read). He was a real Man's Man, always on the covers of fitness magazines or advertising sports drinks and protein powders. He advocated for always being chivalrous and brave, but that Manly Men also took the time to be vulnerable and compassionate.

One thing that hadn't changed since your days in university was the fact that your Eijirou loved to be spoiled. Shopping sprees, private chefs, weekends away… his eyes always lit up no matter what you surprised him with. You were both similarly ranked in the charts, and both made a lot of money, but he secretly adored the fact that you had a bank account you filled up every month just for him. He'd buy whatever he wanted with it, whether it was designer clothes or handbags (for either of you), or any number of things (he particularly liked buying new gym equipment that the two of you most certainly didn't need).

Today had been a hard day. You'd been overusing your quirk and your muscles were sore, not to mention you'd been working with one Lord Explosion Murder God which meant that you'd been ordered around all day.

When you got home, a note from your husband was laying on the counter. Eijirou would be home a little late, and you could order whatever for dinner. Grumbling to yourself, you refused to take yet another order from yet another person and reheated leftovers in the fridge. Take that, loving husband!

You ate standing at the counter in your uniform, and after you'd put the dishes away you marched up to your bedroom, already peeling your costume off. You left it on the bathroom floor as you hopped into the shower, and just let the hot water scald your aching muscles. You used Eijirou's body wash because you missed his smell, and changed into your pyjamas while you combed your hair.

You crawled under the covers and scrolled on your phone for a while, wishing your husband would just hurry up and come home already. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms, hear him tell you all about how he would protect you from the bad things in the world.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs woke you from a restless sleep, and you sat up in bed. How long were you asleep? Was that your Eiji?

The door opened, and what greeted you took your breath away. Your husband stood in the doorway with a sheer robe, trimmed with red faux fur. It was tied with a ribbon around his waist and accentuated his hips beautifully. He was wearing red lacy thigh highs and nothing else beneath the robe. He completed the look with a set of Louis Vuitton stilettos, which you noticed in passing due to the stunning everything else the Adonis before you was showing off.

"Hey," he purred. "Heard you had a rough day." He smirked at you as your eyes trailed up and down his body. "Can I make it better?" he took a few steps into the room, undoing the ribbon around his waist teasingly slowly. He opened the robe, letting it fall off his shoulders and rest at his elbows. He had filled out a lot since university, and he was a healthy 7'6 and twice as wide as you. He could lift you with one arm and toss you like a football if he wanted, but as he dropped his robe to the floor and elegantly clicked his way across the room towards you, he had no intention of tossing you around tonight. That thought made sparks dance around your core, and you felt your panties starting to soak.

You sat up on your knees for a better look at him. He ran his hands over his body, shamelessly showing off for you. His dick stood proud and tall and was already leaking for you. You smiled at him as you slipped into your role. "Did you buy that to look pretty for me?" you asked ever so sweetly. "Sounds like you want a reward."

He walked right up to the side of the bed with a breathy "Yes,". You leaned up for a kiss and enjoyed the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he took his time with you.

His hands gently explored your curves, squeezing the plush of your thighs and the soft skin beneath your breasts, and as you pulled back to lick your lips at him, "Anything for you, Baby," felt like the most natural thing to say.

He crawled into bed, careful not to kick you with his knife-shoes, and placed his wrists at the headboard. You attached the restraints with all the care in the world, and ran your hands over your baby's chest, admiring all of the scars that years of hero work had marked him with. "You're beautiful," you told him, leaning down for another kiss.

You painted his chest with kisses and hickies, not caring if they'd be visible the next day. Let people stare. Let people know who your man belonged to.

"I love these too," you ran your hand over his new stockings. "You know lace is my favourite."

"Always the best for mommy," he purred back, pleased with himself as you explored his body. It had become familiar to you; you knew everywhere he was sensitive. You knew how to get him going, how to slow him down, and how to drive him wild. You shrugged off your own pyjamas and he let out a noise of approval, eyes taking in your curves. "You're stunning." He offered, looking absolutely awestruck. If his hands were free, they'd be all over you, but now was not his turn for control.

You slid off your panties and tossed them off the bed, eyeing his body up with increasing lust, before suddenly straddling him and sinking down onto him with a small noise of discomfort. He let out a sharp noise of concern and pleasure, gasping. "You've gotta prep yourself!" He hissed, half-drunk on the tight squeeze.

"Shut up," you answered, and picked up a brutal pace. He let out a strangled noise and arched up into your touch, gasping and whining and looking up at you with eyes clouded by lust as he gave harsh thrusts up into your welcoming body. His hands hardened and unhardened within their restraints, along with a line along his forehead. You wrapped your hands around his throat, and he tilted his head back to bare it to you. His moans crescendoed as you began to put pressure on him, canting your hips faster and faster.

He was drunk off the lust singing in his veins and bent one of his knees to give you better leverage. You freed one of his hands from its restraint and it immediately flew to your hip to help you ride. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and his breath came in desperate gasps. "Gonna cum!" he whined, blinking desperately up at you. "Please mommy! Please let me fucking cum I want to cum so bad!" he babbled, blinking his pretty crimson eyes up at you.

You gently caressed his face and smiled down at him. You leaned in closer, giving him a deep kiss. "So do it," you growled. "Knock me up."

His hips faltered and the absolute roar he let out at your challenge sent a pleased shiver through you. He ripped the other restraint right off of the bedframe (along with a chunk of the frame itself) and flipped you onto your back, all without pulling out of you. He kissed you ravenously, his hands squeezing every inch of you. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand as he reached his other down to play with your clit. He threw you over the edge, and as you came around him, his thrusts changed. They were sharp and purposeful as he poured everything he had into your body.

"Mine," he growled out, sinking his fangs into the tender meat of your shoulder. He didn't dare move as the two of you came down from your highs but rolled the two of you back over so he didn't crush you. You laughed a little and cuddled into his chest, enjoying the warmth of a womb full of his cum and the delicious stretch of him inside of you, not to mention the feeling of utter safety that having his arms around you brought. "I love you." He purred, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I love you too," you answered back, smiling up at him with tenderness.

"Did you really mean it?" he traced his hands over your back, massaging your tender shoulders. "You want to start a family?"

"Mhm," you nodded tiredly, before looking back up at him once again, echoing your earlier promise: "Anything for you, Baby."

Taglist: @malicealieness (If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me an ask requesting it)

#Kirishima Eijirou #sub kirishima #kirishima x you #kirishima ejiro x reader #Kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #Bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha eijiro x reader #sendhelpimstupid #Memeadonna

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hellveticabold · 3 years

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For All Time. Always.

I know some of us have been feeling pretty down about all of the anti nonsense here and on Twitter. We may also fear the new direction possible in season two. New director, new writer maybe, who knows what else. Plus the worry about how long we’ll have to wait to see these two together again.

It’s a lot to deal with. Maybe you feel like the world (or small moon) is crashing down on you. But I’m here to help!

Would you like to know how I know that Loki and Sylvie will be together - and for all time, always?

It’s simple!

Greed!!!

Disney is greedy as hell. It’s a money-obsessed behemoth, consumed with the need to sell the most product they possibly can to as many people as they can for as long as they can.

And that, my dear friends, is to the benefit of Sylki's everywhere.

Think of the merchandise alone!

The matching horned helmet wedding ring sets. The t-shirts imprinted with "A Bit of Both" or "You ARE my Way." Officially licensed Sylvie horned mouse ears, "Love is a Dagger" earring and necklace set. The Sylvie outfits from Her Universe. The Disney-branded green and gold tablecloth blankets for snuggling. A limited-edition snow globe of the two of them holding hands on Lamentis as the magenta dust swirls around them.

-Sylki Makes MONEY-

Lots and lots and LOTS of money.

Bruce/Nat and Steve/Sharon weren't dropped as couples due to outrage over them being together - it was dropped because no one gave a crap. It wasn’t important enough to anyone (actors, directors, writers, fans) to keep it going. No disrespect to the ships; they just weren’t fleshed out well enough by the creators, had no impact on the story, and so were dropped without fanfare.

No passion from the fanbase = no merchandizing = no relationship.

-Loki is Now Imperative in Marvel’s New Narrative-

Just like Falcon & Bucky and Wanda & Vision’s journeys in their respective shows, Loki’s growth through his relationship with Sylvie is the foundation of his series. It’s not only an important relationship, it is fundamental to his character and and therefore fundamental to Marvel’s Phase 4.

-Expanding the Market-

See this chart? This is a breakdown of people who think of themselves as superhero movie fans. It shows that 46% of all women DO NOT consider themselves fans of the genre (or don’t care). 39% of men are in the same boat.

Disney/Marvel will always want to expand their audience to earn money. But despite all of those awesome movies in Phases 1, 2, and 3, they still have yet to appeal to over 42% of the population.

So what’s the plan? How can they expand the fanbase?

-Romance!!!-

After a few choppy starts, we finally have two fully-fledged, heart-stoppingly beautiful, sweeping romantic love stories in the MCU.

Two out of three of the first Disney/Marvel shows center around a love story!

Wanda's love for Vision and her children as well as Loki and Sylvie's romance and search for one another only serves to grow the Marvel fanbase (namely appealing to women and/or anyone who likes romance as much or more than fist fights... which is a large percentage of that missing 42%).

Trust me, you're going to be seeing a lot more romance in Marvel for Phase 4. (The Eternals, Thor: Love and Thunder, Ant Man and the Wasp, etc.)

Women have money. Romantics have money. And Sylki has opened up a whole new demographic for Disney to squeeze.

Personally, I started shopping for Sylvie merchandise the second she popped on the screen. Any Sylki stuff they come out with, I swear to y’all, I’m going to buy ALL OF IT. (That Lamentis snow globe thing I mentioned earlier? I’d pay like 200 bucks for that.)

-There’s No Financial Downside to Sylki-

Think of it another way:

Disney isn't losing money by keeping Loki and Sylvie together (they're profiting quite nicely with Sylki, actually) and Disney won’t make money if they drop the relationship.

Antis won't stop watching Marvel movies because of Sylki. They won't cancel their subscription to Disney+ because of it. They're just gonna keep forking over their money show after show and movie after movie and rage tweet on the internet. Nothing Disney will do could stop their asinine posts (there's always someone complaining about something), and so why would they even try to appease those people?

Disney don’t give AF about the content of your posts, my dudes. They’re actually just happy you’re posting.

Cause it’s engagement! Thumbs up, thumbs down, doesn’t matter; it’s all engagement.

And engagement is money.

All of the anti's downvotes and little diatribes on 'self-cest' are annoying and sometimes downright offensive to us, but they keep people talking about the show.

Each pissy Tiktok video, each crabby IG story, each woefully ignorant Tumblr post - all of it serves to DRAW PEOPLE IN who might not have otherwise watched the show.

"What on earth is everyone so angry about?" people will ask. "What's self-cest? How could someone fall in love with themselves?" they'll wonder.

And then they’ll pay Disney to find out.

(Hell, I only watched Frozen because Elsa was supposed to be hella gay - conservative TV told me so!)

-So Keep the Faith, my Sylki Friends-

If you can't trust that the love and connection between those two characters and those two PHENOMENAL actors is enough to keep Loki and Sylvie together, you can trust that Disney will always follow the money.

and Sylki is money.

I promise you, there’s far more love from these two is coming! I hope my marketing background and jaded cynicism brightened your day!

#loki #sylvie #sylki #sylki meta #lovedaggers #this is my first meta #i hope it's okay #thank you for reading #capitalism ftw

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heyheydidjaknow · 3 years

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Why do I not have the option to copy and paste formatting? Why is that an option I am not given? Who thought that I wouldn’t need that when I’m on my phone? Screw that guy, who I am arbitrarily calling Adam. If anyone knows how to do that, please tell me.

Chapter 6 Pt 2

“There is no fucking way you got a date with her.” Raphael does not even look it up. “No way in hell.”

“And yet the flow chart worked.” He laughs from his lab, shutting off any excess equipment as to not overwork it. “It worked like a charm and she asked me to go to her place so ha.”

”You didn’t show her the chart, did you?”

“I did not.”

“Well, there you go.” Leo looks back at him from his seat on the couch. “What time?”

“Seven o’clock.” He slides the door closed. “But I’m planning on being there at six fifty-five so that she knows I value her time.”

“Does the sun set that early?”

“Why do you even ask?” Raph turns a page in his once periodical periodical. “You know he looked it up.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Forgive me for also valuing preparedness.”

“Nobody likes a know it all.”

He grins smugly. “That’s where you’re wrong. See, I,” he gestured to himself, “have a date with a gorgeous girl tonight, one where she has already invited me into her home, and you,” he gestured to Raphael, “are reading a magazine from a company that went out of business two years ago alone.”

“Donnie, don’t be a jerk.” Leonardo looked back at the television. “Raphael brings up a valid point; you tend to act like you know everything, and the actual request wasn’t for a date.”

“How else can I interpret one on one time with her?”

“Well,” he counters, “how do you interpret one on one time with us?”

He blinks. “Wait, so you’re saying she’s… how do you put it?”

“Nah, I don’t think she’s friendzonin ‘im.” Mickey looks up from his drawing. “Think she’s sending signals she doesn’t mean to.” He sets his half-shaded piece aside. “Think about it; she said she’s been all stressed out, right? She died like two weeks ago.” He shrugs. “She’s probably just lonely and needs the company.”

“That’s… actually really insightful of you.”

He grins. “What can I say? I’m a modern McPherson.”

Raph snickers at that. “Donnie is more of a McPher—how old is that movie, anyway? A hundred?

“Hey!” He shoots a glare at his brother. “Respect the classics.”

“Not to interrupt your riveting intro to film class,” Donnie interjects, losing his shit, “but I really need to know what this is before I go, and it’s already fifteen ‘till.”

“Look, maybe she’s interested, maybe she’s not.” Leonardo’s eyes are back on the screen. “Just try to tread carefully and you’ll probably be fine.”

“Probably?”

“Again, Raph had a point.”

He groans, walking to the entrance and exit of their home. “You guys aren’t helping.”

“Not our job.”

Leo calls after him. “Be home before six!”

He turns the corner, cradling his head in his hands. ‘I am totally and thoroughly fucked.’

GoodFellas.

Of all the movies in the world, that is the movie you have decided to use to explain these concepts. This is the example piece that you are going to show to the vigilante. All you know is that you had started watching the Phantom Menace and had decided against explaining the concept of racial coding and this is the only other movie that you can think of right now. You have decided to commit, and you are already regretting it, but you decide to figure it out as you go.

You set the pizza on the coffee table, throwing a bag of popcorn in the microwave to pop. You do not expect Donatello to be late, so you decided to start now so that they could get started right away. You start walking to the window, stopping at the mouth of the hallway. You look yourself over one more time in the bathroom mirror despite yourself. You do not exactly know why you care so much; this was not a date, and you had not advertised it as one. Still, impressions are important, and the last thing you need is for him to not listen to you because of it. That is what you are telling yourself, anyhow.

You hear knocking against the glass. You check your phone for the time. ‘Five minutes early.’ You smile softly. ‘How responsible.’ You open it up, smiling at your guest. “Welcome, Donatello.” You take a step back. “Please, make yourself at home.”

He barely makes a sound as he steps off the windowsill, looking around your apartment, fully illuminated, for the first time.

After about thirty seconds of his investigation, you clear your throat. “Donnie?”

He snaps out of it. “Huh?”

You smile gently. “You wanna sit down? I bought pizza.”

“Uh, yeah.” He nods, sitting down and facing the television screen. “I like your place.”

“Thanks.” You sit down next to him, tucking your feet under you as you flip on the television. “How do you feel about gangster movies?”

“Gangster movies?”

“Yeah.” You list a couple on your fingers. “Scarface, Godfather, all that jazz.”

He shakes his head, brow furrowed in confusion. “How can you make gangster movies legally?”

“That is a long answer. The short version?” You lean forward, taking a slice from the box. “The police are kind to those who cooperate, and people think their stories are fascinating.”

“So they’re documentaries?” He mimics you.

You shrug. “Sometimes. Not always, but sometimes. You want something to drink?” You hear the microwave beep as you stand up.

“Water?”

You nod, walking over to pull the popcorn out of the microwave and grab your drinks. “I trust the walk wasn’t too bad?”

“Not at all.” The small talk is torture. “Getting to your window was a bit of a challenge, but it wasn’t anything too bad.”

“That’s good.” You pour him a glass. “I’ll have to get something for that; maybe a planter or something, so you have a bigger ledge.”

“It’s alright.” He taps his fingers against his knee. “It’s wide enough to stand.”

“Still.” You place his cup on the counter, dumping the kernels into a large plastic bowl. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if one of you guys got hurt trying to come in through the window.” You grab a can of soda out of the refrigerator, sitting down and handing him the glass.

He smiles slightly. “You’re really sweet sometimes, you know that?”

You grin. “I try,” you hum, starting to pull up the movie. “I think you’re pretty cool too, Hamato.”

He chuckles. “You make me sound like I’m fifty.”

“Oh, totally.” You nod in agreement. “You’re an old soul.”

He blinks. “Old soul?”

“Mature, I mean.” You shrug. “I mean, handling the stuff you do with any degree of tact, to me, displays a great maturity you don’t see in most teenagers, myself included.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

You get back up for napkins and plates. “Not at all.” You hand him one of each. “It’s an admirable quality, though not one I particularly envy.”

“You think?” His hands linger for a moment longer than typical as he took them.

“Yeah. You want me to turn down the lights for the movie while I’m up?”

His face goes red. “I-I mean,” he stutters, “if you want to.”

“Then I will; shows the image better when it’s dark.” You walk to the wall, flicking off the lights and sitting down next to him, setting your slice on your plate as you turn on the movie.

Your reactions to it are different.

He does not seem what you would call disturbed, but he gets grossly invested in the story extremely quickly. He is noticeably more interested in watching you watch the movie, but he studies the plot intently, noting the more domestic plotline between the lead and his wife in particular. His reaction to the violence is strange to you; he is not aloof, so to speak, but he does not flinch much until the fighting is between Henry and Karen.

You have seen this movie what feels like a thousand times. Whenever you think it applicable, you lean over and whisper to him about the directing, the script, the plot—it is supposed to be a lesson, after all. But you realize that your attention, every so often, shifts to the bed, to your pillow with the knife underneath it. The violence of the movie makes you edgier than you are used to.

About halfway through the movie, you move closer to the boy sitting beside you. You lean your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you listen for cues for comments. You don’t notice his reaction, but you do notice how his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You do not object; you were the one who initiated, after all.

“Here’s a psychology relationship thingy you can tell your family about.” You cringe at that poor little girl standing in the hallway. “’That’s all in your head’ is classic gaslighting. I dunno if that’s really your area or not.”

“Oh, yeah, I see what you mean.” He fiddles with the cloth of your jacket absentmindedly. “It’s kinda hard for me to wrap my head around, people staying like that. I mean,” he clarifies, “I get why, but—”

You both tense up as a young man on screen is shot dead by Joe Pesci’s character.

You exhale. “Yeah, I get what you mean.” You shrug. “But folks get scared, ya know? In her case, she doesn’t want to break the family apart, and she’s really into him.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes way.” You look up at him. “What can I say? We fall into infatuation so fast with bad people who say what we want to hear.”

“Don’t you mean fall in love?”

You watch as Lorraine Bracco holds a gun to her husband’s face. “Nope. Love is entirely different.”

“Yeah?” He glanced down at you.

“Apples and oranges.” You gesture to the television. “Love is supplementary, a beautifully imperfect connection between people.” Your voice becomes smoother, airier. “It’s a bond built on trust and respect. Infatuation is more of an addiction than anything.” You sigh as Liota meets to discuss his relationship with Sorvino. “At least I think so. That’s why love at first sight is a bunch of bullshit; you can’t have that kind of profound trust with someone you just met.” You shrug, looking back up at him. “Then again, what do I know? I’m an inexperienced, fifteen-year-old girl.”

“That makes a lot of sense, actually.” He looks back down at you. “I get what familial love is, but whenever Master Splinter talks about his wife, he has a hard time putting what he means into words.”

You hear their guilty verdict. “Totally get that. Articulation is not easy to do.”

A few minutes go by.

“May I be frank?”

“Please.”

You watch as a man drags his wife out of a Christmas party. “This movie is exactly why I don’t ever want to learn how to do the stuff you do. It changes you, all that violence; desensitizes you.” You bring your knees to your chest. “Especially Raphael. I swear, that shift was as dramatic as his, at least at this point in the flick.”

He pauses. “Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

You close your eyes, breathing slowly. “I’m going to try my best,” you swear, “do everything in my power, to see to it that you guys don’t experience more than you have to.”

You mean it. He can tell.

You two are quiet for the rest of the movie. You explain why certain directing choices were made, connect the beginning with the end, talk about the theme, all while you two watched their fall from grace. When the movie ends, you realize how tangled up in him you are; your head on his chest, legs draped over his with his arms around your waist. You feel the icy air against you, as if his skin attracted it to you. You push the hair out of your face. “So,” you stretch, turning the light back on, “do you wanna see another movie, or do you have a curfew?”

He pauses. “I should honestly probably get home,” he sighs. “If I’m not home early they’ll start getting ideas.”

“Oh, yeah.” You nod, completely understanding the reasoning. “You can take the leftover pizza home if you want; the guys’ll probably eat it before I do.”

“Mikey’ll be on cloud nine.” He picks the box off the coffee table. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” You stand at the window, opening it for him.

He climbs onto the windowsill, looking down at you from his perch. “I had a good time.” His face flushed. “We should do this again.”

You nod in agreement. “Definitely.” You rub the back of your neck. “I’ll pick a lighter movie next time.”

“Alright. It’s a plan.” He gives you a thumbs up.

You steal yourself, cupping one side of his face and kissing him gently on the cheek. “Goodnight, Donnie.” You smile. “See ya tomorrow.”

You are a bit concerned he’s going to fall off the windowsill. “Y-Yeah,” he grinned, words slurred. “See ya later, Y/N.” He waved, climbing up and out of your window.

You smile softly, sigh. You flop back on the bed, rolling over. You have not been this at ease since you died.

‘I really like that guy.’ You close your eyes. ‘I really, honestly do.’

You drift off to sleep, dreamless for the first time in too long.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 6 Part 1

Chapter 7

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belle-keys · 3 years

Text

I Love Matthew Fairchild aka Incoherent Thoughts about Chain of Iron (2021) by Cassandra Clare

I made one of these rant-rave reviews for SJM's book so check it out if you want, no pressure tho lmao.

Aight so I finished Chain of Iron last night and OMG I HAVE TO YELL like I loved it sooo much like yooo, I have a lot to say. I know the book is new so... beware for spoilers plebs.

Also context: I been reading the Shadowhunter books since I was 12 and I'm 19 now *insert dead emoji face* so yeah, I'm just so happy rn with where the Chronicles have come and the fact that they’re still ongoing *insert uwu face*. I remember when in like 2014-2015 or something when Cassandra Clare teased that Will and Tessa's kids' generation was gonna get a trilogy set in Edwardian London, loosely based on Great Expectations, and holy hell? I think that was perhaps one of the best days of my life considering how much I adore The Infernal Devices (that trilogy really changed the way I see YA literature... don't ask cus I won't shut up about it) (also yes I read TMI and loved it too but there's a “generation gap” between TMI and the other Shadowhunter books stylistically so don't ask me about that either cus I also won't shut up).

Anyway, shoo from here if you want a critical essay on Chain of Iron. I'm not providing that, this is just me raving here for the fun.

Listen... I want the bulk of this to just be two main things: The Matthew Situation, and then all the literary and judeo-christian meta aspects of it.

BUT I ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE SO FRICK LET'S JUST START WITH THE OBVIOUS SHIT LIKE THE PLOT AND WHATEVER

Okay, the plot and writing and shit, let's get that out of the way:

The WHOLE Jack-the-Ripper-esque ambiance was just sooooo good man wow like I did not expect the book to take this cold turn but it worked so well. There was such a contrast between Jamie and Cordelia's warm little house and then the cold winter and the stabbings and shit and it felt like a nice little callback to the actual Ripper phenomenon that preceded them and a nod to the Whitechapel Fiend story from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.

Bitch OFC that whole thing with Wayland was a set-up like nawww that was too easy to spot and I get why Cordelia feels like shit about it.

Dawg Lucie was just the Among Us imposter here in that my girl was just venting and sneaking around with dead people and I was like nooooo girl run, don't deal with Fade this is a set-up THINK ABOUT JULES LUCIE THAT'S LIKE YO GREAT-GRANDSON *sobs* but yeah anyway my girl has death powers she gonna kill some bitches next book.

You see that confrontation between Lilith and Belial? MASTERPIECE DIALOGUE like this was the point within which I was just like "yo is this the book of Genesis or a YA Fantasy novel" like when Lilith said "I may have been cast out but I did not fall" like??????????????????? I YELLED she did not have to END Belial like that. What a bad bitch.

More on Lilith and Belial... "You, who brought nations into darkness? Shall I finally be able to tell the infernal realms you have gone mad, lost even the image of the Creator." HAHAHHAHAHA SHE SAID "YO BELIAL GO GET SOME THERAPY AND GET OFF MY ASS" LIKE??????

Ughhhh yasss Clare has improved writing diverse characters in this book compared to in The Dark Artifices in my opinion... I'm not gonna expand on it cus ain't nobody got time for that but like, I enjoyed how she wove Persian poetry and tales into the story and the way in which she writes Cordelia and Alistair. They're not caricatures of Persian people but rather multi-faceted beings who also happen to be Persian and I appreciate that. Also, Alistair and Thomas and Anna and Ariadne were just so fun and interesting to read as coupbles but also as individuals. She really higlighted diversity in a very natural manner. All I need is a hijabi character and I’ll die a happy woman lmao.

The level of META man like the references to Classics and art (I swear, she might have compared Matthew to angels out of Caravaggio AND Rosetti AND Boticelli paintings and I Am Living For It) and just all the quotes from holy books and shit omg I love it here like you really feel catapulted into the time period, she draws reference to external art and philosophy so well and I feel like she upped the notch on it in this book (didn’t know that was possible but it was the prose is BEAUTIFUL, archaic, but not pretentiously so). No, like the characters live in their OWN worlds of literature and art and history in the way we are living in THEIRS. They quote Wilde and Milton while we'll quote Clare. It's awesome.

This is an unusually structuralist take even from me but: I like the way the milieu social of the book, i.e., the high society Edwardian circles and their values, have a direct influence on the plot. James and Cordelia got married because society’s values essentially forced them to, not a demon. Cordelia abandons Jamie at the end of Iron because her shame as a woman in society and fear for her reputation made her, not a demon. Thomas and Alistair can't be together solely because of how Alistair tarnished the reputation of the Fairchilds and Lightwoods by using the horror of infidelity against them. Issues relating to marriage, gender roles, etc, stemming DIRECTLY from the time period rule the sequence of events to the same degree as the epic fantasy aspects (demons, Princes of Hell, the lore itself) do and I LOVE that dear God above.

OKAY THE GOOD SHIT LET US TALK ABOUT CHARACTERS AND SHIPS (N.B. but imma discuss Matthew and the Fairstairs situation separately below this portion):

Alistair's redemption arc: No, cus Alistair's redemption arc is honestly amazing. He really did change and it's not like his betterment as a person was linked to any one heroic deed but rather he simply decided he wanted to be better especially for his family and he decided to become a proper protective son, a caring brother, and an amiable friend. He fully owned up to his Malfoy tendencies and apologized without expecting forgiveness. He shows how he cares in the little ways and omg it's so sweet and tender. I really do want him to love himself now and be embraced by Matthew especially and the rest of the Thieves.

Dawg Lucie and Jesse are so funny to me like it's so hilarious how this girl fell in love with a whole ass ghost that no one else knows about like HHAHA. Are Lucie and Jesse my ult ship ever? Nah, but it's nothing to do with Clare, it's just that their relationship happened pretty quick and feels quite like something epicly romantic that Lucie herself would write. I just like slow burn and friends-to-lovers the most from Clare. To be honest part of me just wanted Lucie to not have a romantic arc all together but like, it's all good, I'm not complaining.

Okay Grace- like yooooooooooo I never hated her yunno. She has been abused and isolated all her life. It's not that she is a bad person, but rather that she does not know what being a person even entails. Can't even say she's a “doll” of a person cus she's never even been pampered like one by her family. I really started understanding her motivations since when they gave us her half-childhood with Jesse. I want better for her but cmon can she REALLY be saved???

GRACE X CHRISTOPHER *pretends to be shocked*... Okay, sometime in the middle of the Dark Artifices series some big brain put together a very thorough family tree of the families and like, it clearly showed that Grace and Christopher got married so like, lmfaooooo, I knew this was coming one way or another, but the journey to this ship is more important than the destination. Like in a way Christopher is such a cute baby lamb that it makes sense he'd end up being immune to her Grace-ness when he's just a cute little Einstein boiii. Like this is just so funny to me cus he's so oblivious to social conventions while she makes the milieu social her entire life so OFC it's gonna work. Like, this is such a worlds-colliding trope like just Give It To Me.

James and Grace - aw mannn Jamie just had me fricking wanting to hit a wall every two seconds cus like yooooooo every single time I think he and Cordelia are gonna stop being emotionally-constipated spouses, Jamie says some kinda shit like "omg me and Daisy are just friends uwu" like DO I NEED TO HIT YOU?????????? See I can't blame him for not slamming the door on Grace's face even tho he totes should- Jamie is so cerebral and kind that even if Grace wasn't using the enchantment on him, I think he would always be soft for her even if it isn't in a romantic way. There's just so much miscommunication cus like he said "Thank God" when she broke off the engagement with Charles and lowkey embraced her but it also wasn't his fault cus it wasn't even romantic BUT OFC IT LOOKED HORRIBLE TO CORDELIA like James literally never told the woman at least once that he loved her so OFC she thought she was back to square one with him dear God above what a mess. Not his fault, but she DID set down one rule for him: don’t cheat with Grace. And yeah even tho he hasn’t properly cheated, it must FEEL horrible to her cus she’s just been enduring the pain of their unrequeted love for so long :((

See imma just say it but if Cordelia thought that James didn't love Grace then she def would have confessed to him about her feelings right but like James, on the other hand, was delaying his own romantic confession cus he was BEING EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED and I can't even say the bracelet was solely to blame cus like my boi was just being so difficult omg I believe he should be lightly spanked by his three parents aka Will, Tessa and Jem *cries*.

Cordelia is such a MOM like she's so mature and stable and her self-preservation instinct? OFF THE CHARTS I love this woman like James definitely treated her well as a hubby but like I JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE CLOSURE ABOUT SOMETHING and boy oh boy she did get that closure she got it good but not from the person she expected in the LEAST *hehe* *pelican screeching*... like Lucie was being sus with the whole ghost business and James was being just, quite a case, dealing with Grace and Belial right and I don't blame them at all for their secrecy and shit but her FATHER DIED and her friends were hiding a lot from her so in a way she turned to Alistair for help but he could only do so much cus of his own pain (she couldn't even talk to her mom cus she's pregnant and she doesn't wanna stress her right) and then there was this emotional block between her and Jamie, Lucie was often absent and conspiring with the dead... the last person remaining was HIM (imma discuss this soon), but yeah my heart just went OUT to her cus she's tryna save herself and her family and she just doesn't know what to do. That's why I love the way her mom told her to stop holding herself back for others and live her own life. Like Cordelia grew on me so much cus in Gold she undoubtedly was a strange Elizabeth Bennet-wallflower hybrid and I... do not usually get attached to wallflowers but in Iron I feel like I finally understood that she was just tryna be unproblematic and self-preserving all along and nottt put her family and friends in a tough situation.... she reminds me of my mom personality-wise so yeah I’m totally rooting for her now that her *situation* in the past seems clearer.

Anna, Thomas and Matthew are such a SQUAD lmfaooooo like united in their gayness they'd be so unstoppable.

Will and Tessa are the most in-love of all the in-loves in this story and I respect that so much.

I lost a year to my life every time the romance between James and Cordelia got cockblocked. Like they were MARRIED and I thought they were gonna at least sleep next to each other at least once BUT NO James couldn't take a hint omg I'm actually gonna eat my fist and sob (but in retrospect, I think this serves a bigger purpose in terms of the narrative structure i.e. the interruption of all the spicy James and Cordelia action serves a bigger purpose which I think brings me to my next section, *exhale*)

Welcome to the Matthew Fairchild Enthusiast Club (this section is me talking out loud; it makes no sense):

bitch.

LISTEN TO ME LISTEN WELL I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH IMMA SCREAM I REALLY AM GONNA SCREAM MY FIST IS LITERALLY IN MY MOUTH *BACKFLIPS OFF THE ROOF WITH LANA DEL REY PLAYING*

Okay like where to BEGIN I think the Shadowhunter boy who I'm most attracted to is Julian while the one I love the most is Will but I think I see myself in Matthew the most. Like ever since that first story where the Thieves all met at the Academy then got expelled, I think that I just KNEW Matthew was destined to be epic. Plus the whole Wilde obsession? I’m no libertine myself but I just love his chaos and passion for life.

NO CUS HE'S SO WITTY AND SWEET AND EPIC AND YET SO SECRETIVE AND DEAR GOD ABOVE AHHHHH WILL HE SURPASS JULIAN FOR ME??? Ion even know but this is just sodjsgdwsdygyegydgef

Hear me out but I said after finishing Gold last March that I wanted this book to be Matthew's healing arc right so halfway into the book when I realized that we weren't getting all that good healing arcing I was confused just cus I thought it seemed natural to address all of his alcohol issues and sadness by now. LITTLE DID I KNOW CASSIE WAS SETTING UP A WHOLE OTHER ARC WITH HIM THAT I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED WTH.

At first I thought Matthew didn't have feelings for anyone at all, and if he DID develop feelings unexpectedly, I fricking thought that maybe he's catching feelings for James, if anyone??? I mean, I did have some suspicions about Matthew from the get-go: like he's so secretive and as readers we think we know everything there is to know about him since we were all privy to the truth potion incident in his short story right BUT NO I GOT PLAYED AND I DESERVE IT SO BADDDDDD.

Listen I hadn't shipped him and Cordelia simply because I never thought it in the realm of possibility but it MAKES SENSE as a ship... think about it: he never says what he feels, he flirts with her like he does with EVERYONE, he is kind to her in the way he is with EVERYONE. Really, Matthew is shippable with everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re taken cus that’s just what his Matthewnes allows for ya feel. There is such a beautiful irony that CORDELIA herself did not see this coming. Even the little teasers and hints in Gold have only NOW started making sense to me likejhss. I just felt like the hints in book 1 did not indicate to me that Matthew really harbored real romantic feelings for Daisy. I thought he was upset that James and Cordelia were being fakes, not a developing CRUSH on the woman fgs.

Not to mention that you usually sense a ship building when the emotional connection or sexual tension between the characters is made clearer but to me their FRIENDSHIP grew right but it didn’t feel like Cordelia was thought that she liked him or he liked her so that means me and Cordelia are clowns *together* 😤

Okay I was lowkey having SUSPICIONS but I immediately shut them down right... like firstly when he took her to the White Horse in his car and she went OFF and OFF and off about how she felt free for the first time? I thought Cassie was just tryna develop Cordelia's self-liberation arc through Matthew there. Heck, I didn't even think ANYTHING of it when Matthew confession to Cordelia about the "truth potion" incident at all cus I was like they're FRIENDS??? BUT now it's adding up now...

See when they were at the inn place and he was telling her that she doesn't in the least seem like a 100 year-old married woman? I was like hmmmm he's so sweet but why did Cassie phrase it like that like??? When Cordelia later reiterated that she thought Matthew's flirting was “meaningless”?? I was like hmmm kinda SUS tho. And then when he and James had their fight over the way Jamie kissed Grace like again I thought he was just like? ion know? mad at James for it but I didn't think he was in LOVE with Cordelia??? So I immediately put aside my slight suspicions. The probability that he had a crush on James at that point seemed more likely to me.

BUT THEN it started hitting me that every time Matthew drank, even before he explained his issue with the truth potion, that Cordelia would note it, she would worry about him, she would think of her father which seemed so poetic to me, history repeating itself and all that but this time you can FIX it??? Yeah, but again I didn't think the L WORD would be involved man???

Now imma sound like a delulu shipper here but it just makes sense they would develop feelings logically- reason being that it definitely is possible based on the way Cassie set up the story, like there's a combination of little “friend things” that can turn this into a proper ship: Matthew rescues Cordelia in the ballroom when Grace captures James' attention in Gold. Cordelia sees her father in Matthew all the time but knows now she has a chance to be there for him in the way she couldn't have been there for Elias (classic “history repeats itself” trope, she doesn't want Matthew drinking in Paris like dhshghdfhdhch). Cordelia tastes freedom for the first time when driving with Matthew. Matthew caught James and Cordelia making out in the room and was pissed but not even HE properly knew why then??? Umm, when she thinks James is forreal cheating with Grace on her she subconsciously goes to Matthew??? I also found it funny just how every intimate marital moment between her and James got interrupted somehow. Like, it's as if the narrative is just a living force REFUSING to let James and Cordelia as a ship be consecrated. Heck, every time Matthew is scantily clothed Cordelia notes it. LITTLE CRUMBS I TELL YOU LITTLE CRUMBS.

I tell you when Cordelia showed up to Matthew's flat I thought they were gonna f*ck as friends but I got SOMETHING EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW

THEY ARE GOING TO PARIS LA BELLE EPOQUE PARIS THE PARIS OF DREAMS AND ART LIKE??? FRICKKKKK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AT ALLLL MAN? I deadass thought the story would be restrained to the UK but like it MAKES SENSE the trope subversion MAKES SENSE.

“In Paris, with you, I will not need to forget.” SHITTRGEGGGDG

BUT CORDELIA LOVES JAMES TOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY THAT... where are we GOING with this like Matthew wouldn't lie about his feelings and yet Cassie wouldn't give us Matthew and Cordelia crumbs to only end it in the next book immediately for her to just ditch him for James. I mean she was clearly holding back on fleshing out James and Cordelia as a ship for this but to WHAT END??? Daisy feels wild and free with Matthew and she feels warm at home warm with James. I can’t advocate for the sinking of ANY ship here.

Imma say what we're all thinking: Is she gonna give us a Will x Jem x Tessa type situation where Cordelia gets both of them cus I'm not strong enough for this but I also think it'd be really funny if James gets a surprise bi awakening in the next books and then we get POLY even tho this would never happen, it’s actually impossible, because of the whole parabatai thing.

Listen I ship Cordelia and Matthew much more than Cordelia and James, not that I dislike James in any way tho. It's just: Matthew is so unrestrained and she's so composed. They seem like an unlikely pair so it makes sense that they hit harder for me. James and Cordelia have such similar personalities but I ALSO don't ship James with Grace at all so like?? Poly would be... ideal... but it can’t happen especially cus they are fricking parabatai... a Will-Jem-Tessa situation seems more likely but mannnn ion know what to expect. I just want FAIRSTAIRS to have their moment in Paris. I mean James and Matthew clearly don't abhor each other for this.

Take everything I say with several grains of salt, take everything I say with the whole Dead Sea actually, cus I damn well know that Matthew is so flirty and whatnot that I’d have shipped him with anyone in their little circle but now that she set him up with Cordelia it all feels so right?? I have wanted this man in a good relationship since he walked onto the page in Nothing But Shadows so-

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I can't believe Cassia duped me like this omg, Matthew is gonna have his healing arc in Paris with Cordelia by his side like- THIS IS ALL I HAVE WANTED AND SO MUCH MORE. Question to yall btw: are you all as surpised at Fairstairs as me or did yall see it coming all along like smart people? Am I a lone clown? 🥺

BRUH okay criticisms of CC?:

Lmfao a part of me feels like I GOTTA say something bad about CC or the book but honestly I have no objective complaints about it as of now. Am I saying that it’s the PEAK of Young Adult literature and Urban Fantasy? I mean, I make no such claims tbh. I’m not here to be critical when I read as a hobby and when CC’s writing makes me happy regardless of how flawed some people see it.

Okay what next?

So like I’m excited for the adult high fantasy she’s releasing in the fall and whatever other works she might be releasing outside of Chain of Gold within the Chronicles.

As for TLH itself? Man I’m just VIBING like I suspect I will reread Chain of Iron soon and maybe one of the anthologies just because I am happy that this series actually happened after me waiting like 6 years for it when it was just a concept: a Dickensian retelling filled with poetry and culture and history and the conventions I so loved in TID at age 12. This is all I been wanting tbh. I’m just enjoying watching this series come to fruition for it to inspire and transform me in some way. I feel like in a way my coming-of-age aligns with that of these specific characters yet I ALSO feel like I raised Jamie since infancy. Wack.

MATTHEW AND CORDELIA IN FRANCE LA BELLE EPOQUE TO BE EXACT IMMA CRY I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AND AHHHHHH. ALSO WILL AND JAMIE GOING TO CORNWALL TO GET LUCIE AND MAYBE BOND I LOVE WILL. HE WAS ONE OF MY DILF AWAKENINGS AT AGE 12 AND NOW HE’S HERE AGAIN IMMA CRY. I WANNA SEE MATTHEW GET HAPPY. AHHH.

Ending with a fun quote: “In the wise words of someone or other, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Maurice.” 😉

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jlalafics · 3 years

Note

Could you please reblog your lesbian!Peeta story for me

Sure! I hope this is the one you’re thinking of!

_______

“You can shut off the lights now.”

Delly Cartwright, Peeta’s friend and business manager, looked to her and gave a sympathetic smile.

“You did well for a new business owner, Peeta,” she continued. Gathering some of the go-backs, Delly started to head over to the racks. “You opened a record shop. It wasn’t exactly going to be busy every day, but from a business standpoint, you did well for your first week.”

Peeta gathered her golden locks into a ponytail and took the broom next to her to sweep up.

“I guess you’re right,” Peeta replied.

She had fair sales for her opening week; it had always been her dream to open a shop of her own and her love for vinyl clinched her decision to open a record store. There was hope of expanding to a used bookstore, but it seemed that it would be awhile before that would happen.

“Don’t you have a husband to get home to?” Peeta asked her friend. “Thom must be annoyed that you’re spending all your time with me.”

“Thom wouldn’t have a full-service coffee bar if it weren’t for his wife’s business savvy,” Delly retorted. She pushed herself onto the wood counter. “He can sacrifice time so I can help out one of my best friends.”

“Really though.” Returning the broom to its place, Peeta met her friend’s light eyes. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Suddenly, Delly’s mouth formed into a smirk. “I mean it wouldn’t hurt if you had a partner to support and help you out. I met this great girl at Thom’s bar—”

“You know what—” Peeta lifted her petite friend off the counter easily, placing her by the front door. “—I think you should go home. You’re obviously exhausted.”

“You win this round, Mellark,” Delly declared with a chuckle. “We’ll see you for Sunday brunch at our place.”

Stepping out, Peeta watched her friend get into her car and drive off before walking back into the store.

Sighing, she let herself admit that she was lonely.

It had been two years since her last relationship and about six months since her last date. Her brothers were both in long-term relationships; Dean, her eldest brother, married to Olivia, his college girlfriend, with two kids and one on the way while Rye, the middle child, engaged to Johanna, one of Peeta’s closest friends and her former roommate.

While she, the youngest and only girl, was still single.

Peeta wasn’t looking for just anyone.

Whoever she was had to be more.

So, for the time being, she would just have to focus on getting the store up and running.

++++++

Locking up the store, Peeta buttoned her rust peacoat and headed towards her bus stop. Her place was fifteen minutes away—just a few blocks—but the fall season had caused the city to go dark once it hit six in the evening.

“Hey girl!”

The group of guys from the bar across the street called out. There were a few catcalls and she ignored it, speeding up her pace towards the bus stop at the end of the block. Her heart stuttered in nervousness as she heard the footfalls heading towards her.

Suddenly, one of the guys was standing in front of her. “Where you heading, sweetheart?”

Peeta didn’t reply, only taking in a description of the guy…mid-twenties, dark beard, medium height, sharp dark eyes wearing a grey hoodie, black tank, and dark jeans.

So, basically any random guy.

Dean was a cop and he had always taught her what to do if she was in a situation like this. However, it didn’t seem to be helping as she found herself surrounded by the rest of the group.

So, Peeta went for Rye’s method and fully rushed at the guy in front of her, trying to knee him in the groin.

He pushed her and Peeta was knocked down, the back of her head hitting the concrete.

There was the pain of impact…and then darkness.

++++++

“Miss Mellark…can you open your eyes?” Peeta blinked, her vision blurred and the white light causing her eyes to close again. “Take your time.”

She followed the kind voice, allowing herself to adjust before opening her eyes once more.

“There you go,” the voice said gently. “You gave us a scare when you came in.”

Her vision cleared and the warmest set of eyes greeted her. Almond-shaped and dove grey, the eyes were set in a heart-shaped face along with a pert nose and rose lips, her skin was a soft olive and her raven hair was tied back in a neat braid.

“Where am I?” she asked as the bed was slowly elevated.

“You are in the hospital,” the woman in the blue scrubs informed her. “My name is Katniss and I’m your nurse. You were mugged; the perp got your credit cards but left the rest of your wallet since there wasn’t any money. Can you tell me your name?”

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.”

Katniss looked at her in confusion. “Your ID says Pieta Mellark.”

“When I was born, my parents tried to teach my brother Rye how to say me name properly, Pee-et-ta, but he couldn’t get it and kept pronouncing my name as Pee-ta. So, it kind of stuck.”

The nurse chuckled. “I like both your names.” Katniss looked over her chart and then to her. “We’re just making sure that you’re CT scan comes out clean and then we can release you. Do you have anyone that we can call? Your family?”

“I don’t want to worry my parents and they’re an hour away, and my brothers have families,” she explained. “Once I’m released, I’ll just head on home.”

“Your name fits you,” Katniss remarked. “Pieta means compassion. A lot of people would milk themselves getting injured, but not you. You’re more concerned about everyone else around you.”

“Give me a day or two and I’ll be at home, feeling sorry for myself,” Peeta replied. “Your name is a plant.”

The nurse grinned. “How did you know?”

“When we were all kids, my parents took us camping,” she explained. “And my Dad told me that if for some reason, I got lost in the woods then I just needed to find you to survive.”

Katniss blushed, her cheeks flooding with color, and Peeta found herself breathless in the prettiness of it all.

“I suppose that could also apply to non-camping situations,” Katniss responded. “Get some rest, Peeta, and I’ll check up on your results.”

++++++

“I’m really alright, Haymitch,” Peeta assured her business partner on the phone. “They kept me overnight for observation, but they didn’t see anything in the CT scan.”

“We should install cameras in the front,” the man insisted. “You could’ve been killed or assaulted!”

“Well, they checked if there was any trauma down there and everything seemed right as rain,” she assured him. “My vagina is perfectly intact.”

There was a cough and she turned to see Katniss standing before, a black bomber jacket over her scrubs and her hair down in long waves.

“I really didn’t need to hear that,” the man muttered. “Just call me when you get home, okay? Also, get an Uber and put it on our business credit card.”

“Ah…you should probably call about that,” Peeta replied. “Some of my credit cards are missing.”

“I’m right on it,” Haymitch responded. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll open the store tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Hanging up, Peeta stuffed her phone into her jean pocket before turning to the woman. “Getting off?”

Katniss looked to her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Work. You off from your shift?”

The blush invaded her lovely face and she nodded quickly. “Oh yeah! Just heading out. How about you?”

“Yeah, just needed to check in with Haymitch, my partner,” Peeta explained.

“Oh.” Katniss’ expression dropped. “Why wouldn’t your boyfriend pick you up?”

Peeta snorted at the idea.

“Haymitch is my business partner.” She looked to the woman beside her. “You heading home to your boyfriend?”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve got some leftover pasta and A Walk to Remember on Netflix, but that’s about it.”

“Would you want to join me for a cup of coffee?” Peeta found herself asking. “Thom, my best friend’s husband owns a coffee shop a few blocks down. It will be on me—or on Delly, my best friend—your coffee, I mean…”

Shit, Peeta was going about this all wrong. She didn’t even know if Katniss was into girls.

“Sure.”

Her head snapped up at Katniss’ response and Peeta smiled. “Okay.”

They headed onto the sidewalk in front of the hospital. It was a beautiful morning, chilled but brimming with potential to be a gorgeous day of clear skies and temperate weather.

“How long have you been a nurse?” Peeta asked as they headed down towards Thom’s coffee bar.

“About three years,” Katniss said. “Got this job right out of school. My mom was head nurse at the hospital before retiring a few years ago and I guess nepotism worked in my favor. I might actually be a really crappy nurse.”

“No, you definitely aren’t,” Peeta argued. “You have a natural empathy.”

“How so?”

“When I woke up, I was scared as hell,” she told the woman next to her. They stopped at the crosswalk and Peeta met Katniss’ gaze. “But, when I heard your voice, I knew that I would be okay. You made me feel safe.”

“That’s a lot to put on a girl,” Katniss said quietly. “But I’m glad that I could help.”

Their eyes met and it was like a magnetic force that Peeta found her hand tucking back a tendril of Katniss’ hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered, feeling the softness of her dark waves and Katniss’ breath caught at the gesture.

Her hand covered Peeta’s and the sensation drew a sharp gasp from Peeta’s mouth.

It had been a long time since she had felt like this.

Stepping towards Katniss, she waited to see if the woman would retreat.

However, Katniss remained still, her mouth parted and her eyelids going half-lidded as Peeta close the space between.

The kiss was careful, her mouth slanting over Katniss’ gently. The feeling of her soft lips caused a groan to draw up from the pit of Peeta’s stomach and escape between their mouths.

It was scary but exhilarating all at once and Peeta never wanted to let her go.

However, Katniss hummed against her lips and reluctantly she pulled away.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to do that,” Peeta told her.

Katniss looked disappointed. “Oh, okay.”

“I mean not without taking you out on a date first.”

Katniss let out a relieved laugh. “Well, we just cut out the needless tension of the first kiss, didn’t we?”

“I guess so,” Peeta replied, taking her hand. “So…”

‘…would like to stay indefinitely?’

“Would you like to have coffee first and then dinner later?”

“And, between then?” Katniss asked, her thumb caressing the top of Peeta’s hand.

“Whatever we want, I have all day.”

I have forever for you.

“Okay.” Katniss beamed. “Let’s start with the coffee.”

#anon #repost #lesbian!Everlark #genderswap #Everlark Fanfiction #Everlark

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moonseyeastrology · 4 years

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Venus / Moon / Mars synastry (conjunction, square)

Venus conjunct Moon synastry is considered a true love aspect. If at a tight orb the love will be mutual and likely emotionally fulfilling. Both parties tend to be very sweet to each other. It can be sickening to outsiders sometimes. They very much understand each other's emotional and security needs. They enjoy doting and spoiling one another with back rubs and gifts. They are each other's side kick and best friend. They care for each other deeply, and selflessly. The Moon finds beauty and warmth from the Venus. The Venus feels greatly understood and nurtured in return. Long walks, hand in hand and cuddling. They look into each other’s eyes and feel their spirits lift. Simply being in one another’s presence heals pain. It feels as though they are wearing a favorite comfortable sweater. They are a classic and romantic pairing. In non-romantic relationships this aspect will still be good to have. They joke around and behave goofy. Venus feels like being romantic with the Moon. The Moon draws out their creative and organic self. They are allowed to be themselves in this relationship. They hardly will notice other people when they’re with each other. If one of them do give anyone outside of the relationship more attention than the other party will feel left out in the cold. There can be jealousy but generally they want to make each other as happy as possible. Going about their individual daily routines won't normally clash too much. Always look to the rest of the chart to determine.

Venus square Moon indicates a rather strong emotional and sexual connection. Instead of the conjunction and softer contacts which show mutual understanding and good feelings. The square creates friction and a restless energy. Venus square Moon in synastry shows two people who usually are very much in love, or attracted to one another but are very different in how they each express their emotions and go about romantic gestures. Frequent likely arguments can become the couples natural form of foreplay.. Such paring indicates an off and on again relationship. Similar in some basic ways but different in other important ways. They argue about little petty things. This can even be the case in the early stages of the relationship, but since there’s a strong attraction both parties will try to ignore the irritation or awkwardness felt sometimes. This aspect will generally play out when they couple is out socializing together or having company over to their home. They can have differences when it comes to raising their children, or have conflicting views on marriage and children. Such as one person may want kids and a big family while the person person although aren't entirely turned off by the idea, is not completely sure that is something they want. They may want to travel and never considered children. Their moods generally two don’t match up well. One person will want to have sex and the other seems to be caught up in something else they’re doing. When the two do sync up, there is emotionally driven sex.

Venus conjunct Mars is considered to be a marriage and major sexual attraction aspect. Especially when it is at a tight orb. This particular aspect’s potency depends on other mars and venus contacts going on in the synastry charts. When Venus conjunct Mars, there is an immense sexual chemistry between two people. Venus is the feminine and Mars is the masculine, so together they have found their ideal match. They view each other as the mate they always wanted. Mars is compelled to touch and flirt with Venus. They really like to touch one another, especially early on in relationships. They may feel like they haven't been as fulfilled in the bedroom before they met each other. Mars is usually the initiator and behaves like Venus’s knight in shining armor. They feel compelled to win Venus over. Venus in return feels completely in her feminine energy, but being chased after by Mars. Mars really make them feel like a woman. Not only is there simply a sexual/romantic attraction, there is mutual respect. Both parties do not mind going out of their way for one another. In fact they may want to team up and tackle projects together. People see the couple as an ideal match. They physically look good together and are charming. This is a good long-term aspect because when two people are sexually compatible it makes them less likely to wander outside of the relationship. Candle lit love making and passion are all the name of the game. If there are any negative contacts connected to this one, then beware of jealousy. You don’t need to be around each other 24/7. Give each other some room to breathe or this can turn platonic.

Venus square Mars there is either an immediate repulsion or attraction towards one another. In many cases it is both. The way that the Mars person advances on the Venus person can make them flat out uncomfortable. However that is where the tricky-ness occurs with this aspect. There is a fine line between dislike and like. Love and hate. They irritate the hell out of each other sometimes, which ironically fuels the attraction. Venus see’s Mars as aggressive or inconsiderate. Mars sees Venus as soft and beautiful physically, but Venus is overly sensitive or does not react how the Mars wants when they pursue. Mar’s wants to dominate and conquer Venus, so they can come off as desperate or overbearing. It can take longer then the conjunction/opposition for these two to form a relationship of any kind because of how much they drive each other crazy. They can be be that couple who has some fiery, epic arguments. Screaming at each other in a very public place. All because one of them said/did something the other person didn’t approve of. Other people will take notice of the tension between them, especially in the beginning. Some issues this contact also ensures is sexual disharmony. They are attracted and horny, just at different times. When they do have sex it’ll be aggressive and passionate. Think of Brad and Angelina in Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Loud make up sex isn't uncommon.

Moon conjunct Mars in synastry is a baby maker aspect. This is because of the impassioned physical responses from both parties. There is a great deal of libido responses when around each other, making them more fertile. The moon persons emotions are drawn outward, making them feel vulnerable initially in front of Mars. the mars can go into fits when the moon becomes overly sensitive or emotional. At the same time there is a lot of understanding about what both people are attracted to in an intimate relationship. The moon in the beginning is intimidated by the mars yet finds their domination and strength to be very sexy. It causes much steam. The kind which burns underneath the skin. This attraction is primal and instinctive. This aspect puts both people in heat. They want to engage in sexual activities or mate. The sex is likely to happen quickly. Mars does the chasing and wants the Moon person SO badly. Both planets feel primal and primitive traits of animal and man. There can be an animalistic quality to the sex. It is common for the Moon person to want to have the Mars children. The female in this contact can become more fertile like those mentioned above. Mars makes the moon feel safe and protected. Mars is indeed protective of the moon. They go into total warrior mode when anyone messes with their lover. Although they may respond heatedly to each other, any outsiders should beware trying to pull that nonsense. This is another good long-term contact to have if there’s other positive aspects. Similar to the Venus/Mars conjunct, there is great sexual relief and satisfaction.

Moon square Mars in compatibility normally brings on irritation at first interaction. They feel this irritation which lends to sexual emotions. Moon square Mars causes friction naturally on its own, that just puts people on edge. There can be an attraction, with other supporting aspects. So when there is a romantic attraction involved, these people will seriously annoy the hell out of each other, but they do love each other. Their interactions in the initial beginning of the relationship will be emotionally hot and perhaps feisty. There can also be interactions to do with manipulation. The Mars person can physically manipulate or be more aggressive which makes the Moon cower back. Overtime the Moon will fight back which is where the square energy really comes in. The Mars can pick and poke at the Moon so the Moon eventually will begin having outbursts. They can feel like the Mars is emotionally abusive in some extreme situations. Normally however it can just simply be the Mars teases the Moon, and finds them to be overly sensitive. They sometimes wish the Moon was not so sensitive. There can be a lot of sex in beginning of relationship because of the level of friction aroused when around each other. In the beginning this can be kind of sexy to have. It's definitely an aspect which brings pure emotional responding to each other, especially in the heat of the moment. Both parties need to watch out for manipulating each other to get what they want. It's not about each other's individual selfish needs, it's the needs of both parties that matter. This aspect can drain two people over time and other people around them. Each other's parent's can definitely be a stress. The Moon persons mother can interfere in the relationship perhaps and Mars gets angered by this. Or vice versa. Regardless of the fighting and heated moments, there is obviously love for each other even if they are at war. The War is always started by petty things said and done too, so try not to be completely immature with this aspect. It can tend to make people act in childish ways simply because the other person drives them nuts.

#moon #venus #mars #love #sexualattraction #primal #effective #strong #astrology #synastry #moonseyeastrology #astrologyquestions #tumblr

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xxtraord1nary · 3 years

Text

Fantasy

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!mc (Charlotte West)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This is my first published work wish me luck! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Summary: Ethan gets caught up in a steamy situation with his sexier than ever protégée who continues to run through this mind.

Warnings: Foreplay, Mild Language, NSFW!

Tags: @katkart122 @justanotherrookie @missmiimiie @starrystarrytrouble @openheartfanfics @dr-colossal-pita @heauxplesslydevoted @the-pale-goddess @rookie-ramsey @perriewinklenerdie @ernestsinclairs @writinghereandthere

As she slowly dragged her impeccably manicured ivory polished nails up the expanse of his mildly hairy broad chest Ethan found it quite hard to control his breathing and remain impassive to the bewitching woman before him. One thing about him was that he was not intimidated by anyone, and certainly not a first year resident for that matter but the divine woman had the ability to turn a highly intellegant diagnostician like himself to a puddle of mush.

For if she told him to jump he’d dutifully ask how high in attempts to please her. Her luminous golden brown eyes shone as bright as the afternoon sun through a glass of whiskey as they bore into his never ending sea blue ones challenging him. Almost daring him to stop her.

But that was the fun of it. He couldn’t no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t. For how many times he unsuccessfully attempted to remind himself that a relationship between them was highly inappropriate and would be detrimental to her development as a doctor. As if she could hear his repetitive mindless thoughts, she rolled her eyes so hard she could’ve sworn she saw the back of her damn brain.

But instead of starting another asinine argument which would draw them to the same conclusion of him once again pushing her away and ultimately hurting them both she pushed him onto the couch behind them and she stood her grond in front of him and dropped to her knees. And without word began to run her hands over the front of his slacks which by the minute became increasingly uncomfortable as just the intense eye contact between the pair made him want to get on his knees and worship her body all night long.

“We seem to have quite the situation on our hands now don’t we Dr. Ramsey?” she remarked in a faux surprised voice as she ghosted her dainty fingers over his covered member. The combination of her heavenly touch and the use of his title rolling off her tongue in her paradisiacal french accent made him choke out a strangled groan. She moved herself upon the couch next to him leaning over his tall and domineering stature reduced to a dazed mess of a man.

“Would you like me to take care of this for you? Hm, is it my hands you want all over you and making you feel pleasured?” she asked once again, always being one to derive more pleasure from her lovers verbal affirmations of her actions. Trying and failing to form a coherent sentence after her line of questioning once she immediately applied more pressure and began to gently stroke him through his slacks.

Unable to produce words he instead looked down at her hands as they worked their magic he had to put his hands over hers to halt her ministrations to prevent him from unraveling so soon as he much preferred to be inside her. “Rookie-” he tried to protest but was quickly brought to silence by a finger to his lips. “I want you silent,Dr. Ramsey. Wanna know why?” he wordlessly nodded completely transfixed by the melanated enchantress.

“Because I’m in charge, and you're gonna and obey. Understand?” he eagerly nodded and with the consent she craved she continued her ministrations with more pressure this time and delved between the crook of his neck eliciting a loud moan from the object of her desires.

“Good god Charlotte.” he rasped out in a haze of pleasure causing her smirk and nip at his throat and making her way down to his adams apple. The confirmation of his pleasure only increased her own as well as her name on his lips which she wouldn’t mind a taste of at the moment. And with that thought she wasted no time in detaching herself from him only to straddle him and strip her scrub top from her body revealing to him a sight that could bring a hundred men to their knees in submission full mounds that hypnotized him at their every sway to which he hurriedly took handfuls of.

She wasted no time in tugging him roughly by the back of his neck causing their lips colliding together in a mix of unrelenting longing and pent up lust that had been expressed through their longer than necessary glances and not so innocent accidental touches throughout their work days that left him a flushed mess and her a smirking bundle of arrogance. Releasing this pent of lust he began to palm her generous backside and dig his nails into her wide tantalizing hips hard enough to surely leave a mark. As she choked out a moan from the pleasure of him unofficially staking his claim.

Somehow the woman on top of him could do what no woman ever had the avail to do, and that was have complete and utter control over Ethan Ramsey. So infatuated with the woman she could break his heart a million times over and he’d still come back dutifully on his knees. As bad as it may be within the short span of a year Charlotte Adora West had the key to his heart and soul and virtually owned him. Her other hand leaving it’s firm grip on his throat ventured down between them and free him from the confining space of his underwear held him firmly in her grasp and next he did something that shocked the hell out of her and turned them both on by belief all at the same time.

He brought her fingers resting on his face into the warm enclosure of his mouth and expertly sucked his fingers with profound experience and she began her quest of bringing to his peak with skilled adept and in response he dipped his hand into her scrubs and began to skillfully rub her bud with his thumb and forefinger causing her moan and breathe harshly. Replacing her fingers with her mouth they became a mess of panting and moaning tangled tongues and limbs.

As she climaxed her voice rang out in the empty space bringing him to his peak of pleasure to let out a husky growl and her to speed up stroking before-

A loud resounding smack on his desk bringing him out of his scandalous daydream and back into the present expanse of the diagnostic teams office to be met with the inquisitive prodding amber eyes of the subject of all his desires. Dr. Charlotte West herself.

As she just so happened to glance down at the tightening of his slacks she laughed quietly to herself and muttered something he couldn’t understand in french and returned her gaze to his with a knocking smirk.

“What were you fantasizing about Dr. Ramsey?” she seductively inquired, never making the move to break eye contact. He sputtered clearly embarrassed as he was no more than a blushing mess at the moment. “Dr. W-west, what are you doing in here?” he fumbled trying to look anywhere but her beautiful face. “This is the team office, remember? And I needed you to sign this.” she said slyly, still smirking subtly as she handed him a patient chart. “Oh.” he said, snatching up the chart and hurriedly signing his messy signature. “Merci.” she remarked on her way out the door but not before turning back to not so subtly eye his obvious hard of which he tried unsuccessfully to hide.

“Next time you’ll have to call me to fix that, try not to daydream too much of me sir.” she said chuckling before adding, “This is a hospital, Dr. Ramsey” not forgetting to send a suggestive wink his way on her way out leaving her once again victorious at his misery.

The most rewarding in her opinion.

And a flustered Ethan Ramsey, a world famous diagnostician, was left a muddled mess in his chair admiring the view of Charlotte's curvy figure that her scrubs did little to nothing to hide as she effortlessly swayed her way out of his office.

Fin.

Thanks for reading!

#ethan ramsey #original character #poc #blackwoman #femalelead #open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #ethan ramsey fic #Spotify

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derireo · 4 years

Text

a threat to the community! ↦ itaru, tasuku, tsumugi, izumi

what’s wrong with liking boobs and showing interest in your friend’s brother and the other friend’s sister? izumi clearly doesn’t know.

it feels like it’s three against one, and tasuku doesn’t know how much more of this slander and nonsense he can take.

maybe he should just kill one of them.

「 3k words 」

cw: vulgarity, swearing, name-calling, crack treated seriously, a little ooc.

"Do you ever just wish you had a girlfriend with a huge pair of bazoingers." Itaru said one fine evening.

It wasn't even a question, but it had Izumi automatically nodding along to whatever nonsense the man was spouting.

"All the time." She muttered under her breath beside Tsumugi who was forced to pause in marking Taichi and Tenma's practice quiz.

...What.

"Do you ever wish you would just shut the fuck up." Tasuku hissed in annoyance, looking over his script to send a glare to Itaru who was tapping away at his phone.

Itaru rolled his eyes and repeatedly snapped his fingers in Izumi's direction, the woman looking up from the page she was helping Tsumugi mark. "You get me, right?"

The woman nodded and tapped her red pen against the coffee table, leaning to the side to rest her body weight against Tsumugi. "Hell yeah, brother."

Itaru switched his gaze to their blue haired friend and pointed at Tsumugi next, eyebrows raised.

"And you, my good friend."

The part-time tutor swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck, taking a sheepish glance Izumi's way with a little smile. "Uh. I guess?"

Itaru squinted at Tasuku after receiving the answer he was hoping for and smiled, his shoulders doing a little dance when the violet-eyed man groaned. "Tasuku just doesn't know how to appreciate women."

"Dude." Tasuku gritted, dropping his script. The man didn't want to feed into whatever bullshit Itaru wanted to start tonight, but he wasn't going to let the guy slander him like that. How dare he.

"It's true." Izumi said and reached out for the snack bowl that was on Tsumugi's side of the table. She snatched a chip and shoved it into her mouth.

"We were jogging through the park once and I asked him if he thought the girl we were about to run past was cute." Her voice was muffled by the food and it elicited a disgusted reaction from Tasuku while Tsumugi could only sigh.

The snack bowl was meant to be a reward for later.

Itaru was the only one listening. "Okay, and? What did he say?"

Izumi spared Tasuku a glance over Tsumugi's shoulder and blew a raspberry, shaking her head. "He said no."

Itaru snarled. "How could you."

"Wha— come on." Tasuku threw his head back with a deep sigh much to the amusement of his childhood friends. "It was a genuine answer."

"Dude. All girls are cute." Izumi stated as a matter of fact, gently patting Tsumugi's arm. "Right, Tsoogs?"

The man nodded, not willing to get harped on by both Itaru and Izumi who seemed to be looking for a fight tonight. "...Right."

"See?" Izumi and Itaru gave Tasuku a pointed stare. "You're the odd one out."

"Not all girls are cute." Tasuku frowned, pointing an accusing finger at Izumi. "Take a look at yourself if you need an example."

Both Izumi and Itaru gasped, scandalized.

Wow. Just wow! Tasuku really had a pair of balls to be saying that to Izumi. Such blasphemy was not to be taken lightly!

Itaru and Izumi were going to burn him at the stake.

Sitting up from his position on the couch, Itaru threw one of his cushions at Tasuku who caught the pillow with ease. Damn.

"You are so rude, you cheeky piece of shit." Izumi playfully cried as Tsumugi held her back from standing up to throw a punch at Tasuku who was sticking his tongue out.

Bleh bleh.

"Izumi's kind of cute at best." Tasuku continued, eliciting an agonized sob from Izumi who was now burying her face into Tsumugi's neck. Oh, the pain was unbearable. How could her buddy do this to her?

"How did our conversation about boobs end with someone crying..." Tsumugi sighed under his breath and pulled the girl closer to him, resuming his marking so that he wouldn't have to finish it later tonight.

Itaru crossed his arms huffily. "On a good day I'd agree with you Tasuku, but we are talking about Izumi here, you beefy fuck." The blond choked dramatically and glared at Tasuku who was rubbing his face.

"You better apologize to our Queen." He sniffled.

Tasuku cringed. "Queen?"

"Duh. Who else is most fitting to take responsibility?" Itaru rolled his eyes and made a grabby hand motion at Tsumugi. The oldest member of their group grabbed a candy from the bowl and tossed it.

"Uh, me? You fuck." The disbelief was apparent in Tasuku's eyes but Itaru ignored it.

"Oh, sure." Izumi scoffed. "Who's the one who has to deal with all the hearts you've broken?"

"Wow." Itaru chuckled through his candy. "So Tasuku is just a straight up ladykiller? As in, he literally kills people."

"For Chrissake— just shut up." Tasuku groaned, throwing the blond's cushion back at his face.

"I'm pretty sure I had to spend the night in jail once due to your drunken actions." Izumi wagged her finger and harrumphed.

"No." Tsumugi frowned and held the accusing finger that was pointed in Tasuku's direction, pushing it back down onto Izumi's lap. "Tasuku still got jailed for destruction of public property. You got jailed for assault."

Itaru piped up after tossing away the pillow that was so rudely thrown in his direction. "That happened in high school, though."

"I'm pretty sure I was acting in self-defense." Izumi frowned, crossing her arms as she remembered the unfair treatment she was given compared to the person she had punched. "Spitting on someone is considered assault. I was only protecting my pretty face."

"Ooh, Izumi using her basic Law 12 knowledge. Impressive." Itaru whistled, snapping his fingers as to applaud his friend for using her rarely flaunted intellect.

Izumi winked playfully and twirled a strand of hair around her finger, pantomiming that there was chewing gum in her mouth. "84% and never studied, baby."

Tsumugi's gaze scanned the woman's figure with a curled lip; a frown. "But if you studied, you could've gotten an A." His tone was scolding and it made Izumi pout. The woman cuddled into Tsumugi's side to appease him.

Itaru threw his candy wrapper at the tutor. "Hey, as long as she can keep us from fucking up in front of the cops, grades don't matter."

"A-fuckin'-men, broski." Both Itaru and Izumi sent each other a pair of finger guns and winked.

"You're fucked if you think Izumi's gonna keep you from getting incarcerated." Tasuku rolled his eyes. Seriously, was no one seeing the problem here?

Izumi had absolutely no compassion for their friend group. If she could, she'd probably watch Itaru and Tasuku get put in handcuffs. And if she could, she'd probably put Tsumugi in handcuffs.

This girl was off her shits.

"The Izumi slander is off the charts today." Itaru wolf-whistled. "You better shut your mouth, Tasuku, or else karma is gonna bite you in the ass."

"Yeah or else I'm gonna fuck your brother." Izumi threatened, completely derailing the conversation.

Tasuku froze. "What the hell."

"Fuyuki always looks like he's Down To F Izumi so she's probably not even kidding." Itaru pursed his lips, sending Izumi a thumbs up. Tsumugi couldn't protest, because it was probably true.

Izumi simpered. "I'm gonna be your sister-in-law."

"Oh my God." Tasuku cried.

"And hey, don't think your sister is automatically safe from me either, Chigasaki." Izumi's eyes caught Itaru's and the man pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Isn't his sister married?" Tsumugi frowned. He didn't have a problem with same-sex relationships but he was going to have to draw the line at homewrecking.

Luckily enough, Izumi had the same set of morals so the question made her freeze.

She jutted her chin at Itaru. "Is she married?" Izumi asked.

Itaru shrugged. "Dunno."

Izumi clicked her tongue. "Damn. I'll text and ask her later."

"Can't you just get with someone your own age?" Tasuku complained. He was not going to let Izumi near his brother. Absolutely not! Wasn't it a little weird going after your friend's siblings? Gee!

Izumi's lips curled into a frown after the question was asked. "And end up with someone like you guys?" Her tone was full of disdain, but she quickly kissed Tsumugi's cheek to let him know that she wasn't talking about him specifically.

Izumi gagged. "I'd rather kermit."

"That's reasonable." Itaru nodded. "I am quite the disaster of a sentient life form."

"Can you speak normally? And hey." Tasuku jabbed a finger in Izumi's direction. "It's not like I'd want to date someone like you either!"

Tsumugi fell back against the couch, rubbing his face as Izumi huffed and fell back with him, their knees hitting the edge of the coffee table.

"Can you guys please just make up and kiss already." The blue-haired man sobbed in exasperation.

Izumi shook her head and glared at nothing. "Sorry, Tsoogs. The only Takato I'm kissing is Fuyuki and it's gonna happen after we recite our vows at the wedding."

Tasuku threw his hands up in the air. "What wedding? And why does that piss me off?"

"'Cause you're jealous." Izumi poked her tongue out.

Tasuku growled. "Am not."

With a devilish grin, Izumi curled her arm around Tsumugi's shoulder and leaned over the man's lap to slap Tasuku's thigh. "Dude, if you want a nice smooch from me, all you gotta do is ask."

"Oho." Itaru's voice was monotone, but Tsumugi saw the way his eyebrow twitched. "If I ask nicely can I get a smooch too?"

Izumi turned her head and pretended to barf. "No. Maybe in your office suit, but like that?" The woman scoffed, eyes scrutinizing the grease stains on Itaru's shirt. "No fuckin' way."

"You're mean." Itaru frowned. "So you'd still kiss Tsumugi even though he dresses like that?"

The blond pointed at Tsumugi's usual attire and made a gagging noise. Not that there was really a problem with his outfit, but it was just so.... boring.

(Itaru opted to ignore the fact that Izumi was matching with him.)

Noah fence, Itaru mused to himself.

Tsumugi poked his tongue out at the gamer.

"Yeah? He's got a cute face and he always came to my sporting events back in HS." Izumi huffed, cradling the side of Tsumugi's face to squish their cheeks together, affectionately melting into his side. "Unlike you guys, Tsumugi was very supportive of me."

"Yeah." Tasuku rolled his eyes. "Supportive of your nonexistent athletic career."

"Okay, listen here 'hot stuff'—" Izumi grouched and slapped Tasuku's ankle. "I was scouted for the national team just like you."

Not even ten seconds in and Itaru was already tired from hearing them talk about athletics.

"Can we please stop talking about sports. Both of you didn't accept the offer anyway." Itaru cried dramatically and let his phone fall from his hand, slouching in his seat.

"Worst mistake of my life." Izumi sighed. "I've lost the chance to become a ladykiller."

"You say that as if girls would be attracted to you." Tasuku scoffed much to the annoyance of Izumi.

"I've had more girlfriends than you've had sex." The woman griped.

"Tasuku's a virgin, though." Itaru piped up, ignorant. No one seemed to be surprised at the fact that Izumi has had girlfriends before which was a little underwhelming.

Save for Tsumugi who was pouting.

"Exactly." Izumi picked a few candies from the bowl and threw them at the gamer while everyone ignored Tasuku's protest to the previous statements.

"How come we've never heard of you having any girlfriends?" Tsumugi frowned at Izumi and pat her knee, teasingly wiggling his shoulders as if he was a child throwing a tantrum.

The woman laughed and ruffled Tsumugi's hair. "You bastards would've complained had you known I always cancelled our plans for a girl."

"Well, did they have big boobs? If so, then it's fi—" Itaru was justifying Izumi's reason for always standing them up, only to have Tasuku remove his own indoor slipper from his foot to vault it at Itaru's chest.

"Ouch. </3" He pouted.

"Stop with the damn boobs. Izumi probably likes thick thighs." Tasuku frowned much to the amusement of Tsumugi and Izumi.

"Sounds more like a personal preference of yours." Itaru shot back while the pair sitting on the floor faced each other and sighed.

"Men." Izumi rolled her eyes so hard her head started to hurt. "Right, Tsumu?"

She scrunched her nose at the tutor who she was still holding onto and he responded with a nose scrunch of his own. "Right." He agreed confidently this time.

"Aw, I always knew you were an ally." Izumi cooed. "Kithes for you." She said and pressed her lips to his cheek before standing up from the floor, raising her arms above her head to stretch.

Itaru made grabby hands. "I want kithes."

The cutesy act made Izumi gag, and she shook her head. "No way. You've got your own army of wives to ask."

"Aw." Itaru clicked his tongue. "But they aren't as cute as you are." He supplicated.

"Ooh. Touché." The director whistled a pleased tune and waved at Itaru to come over. "You got me. Get over here."

The way Itaru had scrambled off the couch to trot over towards Izumi made the director laugh, and she willingly opened up her arms for Itaru to sink into her embrace.

"Ugh. Warm. Like soup." Itaru sighed. The comparison made Izumi make a noise of disgust.

"Okay, off you get." She groaned and forcefully pushed Itaru away. "I'm not kissing you anymore."

Brushing away the imaginary crumbs Itaru had dropped on her, Izumi turned her body in the direction of Tasuku, who was casually lounging on the sofa. She ignored Itaru's childish cry.

"As for you," she pointed a finger at the meathead. "score me a date with your brother and then maybe I'll give you the privilege to hug me."

Tasuku bristled.

"I am not letting you anywhere near Fuyuki." He squinted. "And I don't even like hugging you."

The whole trio in front of Tasuku scoffed, leaving him puzzled. "What's up with the reaction."

Tsumugi began to collect his unfinished quizzes, putting away his pens and answer sheet with a shake of his head. "Nothing. You're just a really pathetic liar."

"What."

Itaru grinned and trotted towards Tasuku, flopping onto the man's legs with a relaxed sigh.

"You're the lucky bastard who always gets spoiled by Izumi, ya big dumb of straight up ass. I'd punch you right now for being so ungrateful." The blond threatened.

"Aw, I never knew I picked favourites." Izumi frowned, squatting beside Tsumugi who was still cleaning up. "Tsumugi's my new number one."

The man mentioned smiled gratefully and blew a kiss at Izumi who grabbed the invisible thing and shoved it into her pocket.

Tasuku readjusted his legs underneath Itaru to properly distribute his weight. Ugh. He hated when they sat on his legs like this.

"Stop acting all lovey dovey. You two aren't even dating." The grouchy Winter Troupe member grumbled to which Itaru punched at his thigh.

"He's jealous! He wants in on the action." Itaru jested while Tasuku shot up to grab the blond by the front of his greasy shirt. "Oh God, I'm gonna die— IZUMI!" Itaru shrieked, in the middle of being violently shaken by Tasuku.

The director sighed at the commotion, sending a pout Tsumugi's way as the tutor shrugged his shoulders and gave her knee a comforting pat.

"I swear." She muttered under her breath. She stood back up to her full height and turned towards the pair on the sofa, eyes flaring with aggravated heat.

Izumi snatched the front of Tasuku's shirt just like what he did with Itaru and ripped him away from the blond with a wide eyed stare, startling the man out of his gentle bullying.

"You." She removed a hand from his shirt to tap his nose, smile fake as Tasuku blinked and stared at the canine tooth that was snarling at him. "Are being really bratty."

Finally being released from the clutches of the Devil himself, Itaru scrambled off the sofa to huddle against Tsumugi. He started to playfully cry just like Izumi did a little while ago and buried his face in Tsumugi's neck.

"I'm gonna beat your ass if you don't cool it by dinner tonight." She hissed, tightening her grip on Tasuku's shirt to pull him forward. Juuust until their noses were touching. "Got it, baby boy?"

She smiled just a little after uttering the nickname, but Tasuku huffed.

He lightly pressed his palms against her stomach to push her away, snarling. "I'm older than you."

"By a month. Get over yourself, pup." Izumi scoffed and raised her hand to roughly slap-half-pet Tasuku's cheek, using just enough force to push his face away from her.

"I'm going to my room to look at girls online." She sighed and raised her leg to dig her heel into Tasuku's stomach for good measure.

Just to let him know that she's still the boss in their little group. <3

"Text me when Omi finishes cooking tonight." Izumi pulled away from Tasuku before he could wrap his fingers around her ankle and trip her up, giving him the middle finger with a teasing smile as she walked backwards into the hallway.

"That's our Queen." Itaru sighed dreamily.

Man. If Izumi was the only woman left on earth he'd probably kill Tasuku and Tsumugi to keep her all to himself.

....Too much? Too much.

Tasuku was still grumbling to himself, rubbing the spot on his stomach where Izumi put her foot earlier. He winced.

...Hmph.

"I'm gonna pound her into the gr—" Tasuku made a sudden move to jump off the couch, but was stopped.

Tsumugi chuckled and held Tasuku by the back of his shirt to prevent the taller man from chasing Izumi down the hallway. "No you aren't."

"He really is a murderer." Itaru laughed in shock, bracing himself against the couch he was sitting on earlier.

"Yeah." Tasuku scoffed with a smile, turning towards Itaru. "And I'm gonna be sending you to your grave first."

The smile was....eerie. Itaru could feel the hair on his neck stand tall.

He slowly began to shuffle towards the hallway. "...I'mgonnagolookatboobswithIzumi." He said in one breath and then dashed down the direction of the director's room.

Tsumugi took a single glance at Tasuku and shook his head. "You are such a handful sometimes."

Tasuku pointed at himself and gaped.

"ME?"

#originally titled 'idjit' <3 #a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#itaru chigasaki #tasuku takoto #tsumugi tsukioka #izumi tachibana #a3! scenarios #a3! crack #a3! fic

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captainjimothycarter · 4 years

Note

How about that AU where single parents Steggy meet because their kids meet each other in Pre-school and seem to recognize each other, and you get Steggy dismantling some horrible institution realizing their adopted from overseas toddlers were twins intentionally split up for 'reasons' and obviously you just gotta live together now man, twins can't be split again, guess we're together. Cause Maximoffs in New York, and Steve vs the hellion that is 4 year old Pietro.

Something tells me that if I apologize for this being long, no one will complain, but anyway: I’m sorry for what I’m about to do and how I butcher this. OP, I love these prompts so much.

“You’re serious?”

Steve is fully aware that he doesn’t even know Peggy and he’s never seen her look more serious. She’s staring at him over the rim of her steaming coffee mug with an expression that says, you’re an idiot. Laid before them are a few folders, binders, and files, the contents spread out. This marked their life together.

The start of their life together.

It was late at night, Wanda was asleep with Pietro, curled up in his bed. The kid insisted she slept in the same bed and wouldn’t be told no and fuck, Steve couldn’t tell Wanda no. Not when she made that cute, little face that knew she’d get whatever she wanted. Besides, they couldn’t tear them apart again. They were toddlers who barely understood the situation. It’s not like the adults were doing much better.

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Steve let out a loud sigh and tensed. He waited to hear Wanda’s whimpers or Pietro’s groans, but none came. His eyes fell to the stranger before him, wondering how did they miss each other.

“You do understand that this isn’t our fault?” Peggy asks him in a soft tone as if she’s trying to convince herself. She lays her hand on his wrist, the pad of her thumb rubbing over the inside of Steve’s wrist. “We had no way of knowing. None. Even though background checks, I didn’t find anything that said this.”

“Doesn’t mean I feel any less guilty here.” He downed the rest of his coffee like it was a shot and made a face at the coffee grounds sliding down his throat. Ugh. That’s what he gets for a shitty coffee maker. “We didn’t do this but now we have the consequences. How do we repair…four years of that?!”

“Steven.” The way she said his name made him frown at her. He looked like one more surprise news away from a breakdown. Poor guy. He really has been working himself to the ground. “I adopted Pietro when he was three months old. You adopted Wanda when she was two. They were separated for whatever goddamn reason. We both took the kids to give them a better life. How the hell we wounded up meeting is-is fate, is all it is. It’s fate.”

“Reverse Parent Trap.” He muttered under his breath and Peggy snorted, looking utterly embarrassed that she snorted. He deserved that slap to his shoulder. It was odd, how close they felt and barely knew one another. All he knew that she was from England, she now lived in America, and she adopted the twin brother of his daughter. “So what do we do now? We can’t keep them away from one another, that’s fucking torture! We’re lucky they remembered each other. Or had some weird twin connection, hell if I know.”

The man was clearly frustrated and Peggy wanted to soothe him, but she had to keep her head on here. She looked back at the paperwork. The second they’d realized something was odd when she picked up Pietro from pre-K, Steve had rushed home to go get every document he ever had of Wanda and brought it back to her place.

The twins had to have some connection, didn’t they? They recognized one another, had some draw to it. When Steve saw them together, she gasped out loud because they looked so similar and not in the manner little kids do when they’re young. It took a DNA swab test designed by Stark Industries to work in under an hour to confirm their suspicions.

Explaining that the kids were not so much easier. There were endless questions and Wanda’s assumptions they split them up before Peggy had to prove that no they didn’t. It was the people in the hospital. Then Pietro’s declaration that all hospital people were bad and Steve tried to gently explain no they weren’t because sometimes bad, bad mistakes happen. So far, that’s all they could do was chuck this up to mistakes. They weren’t exactly sure. Besides, his ma was a nurse and she wasn’t bad.

“What do we do now?” Peggy mused, taking their coffee mugs and setting them in the sink. She started to clean the table with Steve’s help, carefully organizing everything together. She stared at the photo of Wanda on Steve’s shoulders in front of some museum, then of hers with Pietro on a goddamn child leash because he loved to try to run off. “I think you know. We can be civil about it.”

“Or…” Steve stood up and gently took the binder from her arms. There was a glint in his eyes as he took her hands and gently pressed a few kisses along her fingertips. It’s the boldest he’s been since he arrived at her apartment. “We don’t go about it civil. The first thing you did when you saw me was check out my ass.” Peggy’s ears turning pink told Steve he was right. “We can go about this the right way or…our way.”

If Peggy had anything to say, Steve didn’t hear it. Her lips were on his, his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

“So when is their birthday?” Howard asked, frowning as he watched the toddlers play with the water guns in the kid’s play area of Stark Industries.

Steve hated this. It felt like an interrogation room with the mirrored glass. They weren’t criminals. They were kids. Confused kids. “We don’t know,” he replied, turning to look at Peggy where she was bending over to study some flight plans charted on the table. That was Peggy, alright, newly appointed aviator of Stark Industries, Steve’s girlfriend [God that made him giddy], and an old-fashion soul. She loved computers but loved everything else handheld and on paper, so the charts were easier. “Pegs? Peggy.”

Peggy jumped and turned around, her cheeks flushed. “Sorry. I was double checking my courses. I swear, I didn’t lose that shipment,” she mumbled, still hung up on the situation. “Anyway, yes? What is it?”

“Birthday, Pegs,” Howard rolled his eyes and slid in the rolling chair to the table she was at. He rolled up the chart much to her pouting. “When are their birthdays? If you want me to get their paperwork right and set up properly, I need to know.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he liked Howard Stark. The man was eccentric, a ball of energy. He didn’t know when to sit still and bounced from one side of the room to the next. He was balls to the wall when hyped up about something. But he was Peggy’s friend and boss, so he set his opinions aside to focus on the matter at hand. They couldn’t trust many people with this information, Peggy had asked Howard to design the twins paperwork to reflect that they were twins and family and Steve and Peggy both were their parents.

“We’re unsure. Steve’s paperwork for Wanda says April 19th. Mine says September 12th.” She pursed her lips in thought, her eyes on Steve. A silent conversation passed through them, leaving Howard confused. Her head just ever so slightly nodded. “October 1st.”

If Howard had a complaint, he said nothing. Or at least Steve didn’t hear him because at that point Pietro had cornered Wanda with the water gun. Howard turned back to Peggy with a fond smile. “The guy must really like you. He’s quiet. Thoughtful.” She rolled her eyes at him, causing the genius to smirk. “And no, you didn’t lose the shipment. It was stolen. I got guys working on it.”

“Peggy!” Steve’s voice betrayed the emergency of the situation, causing Peggy to abandon Howard and run straight to the playroom.

She gasped at the sight of Steve held in the air, a screaming Wanda in his arms, surrounded by red energy. The second she got close, Steve fell to the floor on his backside but held a terrified Wanda tightly to him.

“We have a situation,” he groaned to her.

As if their already situation wasn’t tricky enough.

So that’s it.

Steve was married to the wonderful Peggy Carter, aviator for Stark Industries. He was a stay at home father with a pair of twins. Twins separated shortly after their birth and now reunited. Twins with powers. Confusing powers that not even they understood.

Their relationship had changed in a matter of weeks. With the secrecy of everything that happened, they agreed it was best to get married ASAP. Bucky wasn’t too happy about them skipping a wedding and getting to embarrass Steve with a speech but even he agreed.

So that was it then, huh?

Not quite.

Wanda’s powers were difficult to understand and anytime Steve thought he could understand how she manipulated things or levitated them, or controlled minds, he was reminded he barely had control of the situation.

Pietro was almost just as worse with his speed.

They were kids, toddlers at that. Confusing toddlers were bad enough, but toddlers with superpowers? Now that was just a daily headache. They couldn’t control them. Once Pietro sneezed and jolted back all the way through the house and into his bed. He just thought it was fun and showed his mama as soon as she got home.

So what were they supposed to do? The only thing they could.

Move to a bigger home in the countryside. Steve took up being a comic artist, but more focused on stay at homework. Peggy continued her job at Stark Industries because part of her didn’t trust Stark. He knew about the powers but they worried through every test and blood sample that he might betray them. Now that Howard seemed to be that guy but Peggy couldn’t take her chances.

Thankfully Howard’s contacts had come through and they found a teacher, someone named Xavier who could help with the twin's powers. The only problem was, the guy was somewhere overseas and it would be after the new year before he could come to assess the problems. For now, Steve would send him daily updates and Xavier had started to couch Steve through working the twins through some testing or obstacle or stuff.

Their improvement showed and the father couldn’t have been more proud.

All Steve could say was, yes this situation was certainly an odd one. He never thought he’d adopt a child, much less a better half of a twin, a powered twin at that. Never did he thought he’d be with someone the likes of Peggy. A beautiful woman that took no shit and had no problem dishing it back out or putting Steve in his place when he needed it.

He never thought he’d have a successful career as a comic artist or even be a stay at home dad, but here he was.

Here he was in a loving, beautiful home that was chaotic at the best times, with two loving kids who just always wanted a family to belong to. And really, Steve and Peggy had done their both to give it to them.

Life was chaotic but it was good.

It was their life.

One Peggy and Steve had decided they’d carve it out together.

#Steggy #StevePeggy #Modern Steggy #Avaitor Peggy #wanda maximov #peitro maximoff #They're hell beasts but love their parents #Parent Trap Reverse #Steggy Prompt #Nonny Prompt #I hope this is what you wanted #It's 2k

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loneswaggingranger · 4 years

Text

Does it matter?

By @loneswagger for @pixiethefirecat7

This is for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Bruce Banner, May Parker

Summary:

When Peter reached forward and called his name, Tony honest-to-god flinched away from him.

His fingers twitched. “Captain Rogers did this, didn’t he?”

Hard brown eyes snapped shut. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter said, kneeling softly beside the hero’s battered form. “It does.” -

The one where Tony Stark lives with a metal arm, Steve Rogers never became old, and Peter Parker baffles at how incredibly fine they make everything seem. Or, the one where Peter Parker becomes Tony's designated spokesperson. Seriously, what would they do without him? (Nothing, apparently.)

Story under the cut! Hope you like it~

Does it hurt?

He once found Tony shirtless and utterly wasted in the lab, drowning in a sea of one too many shattered decanters, knuckles gone white from wringing that outdated burner phone for who knows how long. Crimson dribbled from calloused palms across scarred flesh, to ripped jeans over to shimmering glass shards littered upon sullied floors.

When Peter reached forward and called his name, Tony honest-to-god flinched.

His fingers twitched. “Captain Rogers did this, didn’t he?”

Hard brown eyes snapped shut. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter said, kneeling softly beside the hero’s battered form. “It does.”

When Peter came home, he expected many things. He expected his dingy little apartment with the wafting smells of May’s burnt bread, imagined snuggling on the couch with her, and watching cheesy soap operas all through the night. He expected those weekly sessions with just him and Mr. Stark in the lab, planning, tinkering and innovating without a care in the world, positively shining whenever Mr. Stark whistled and said, “You got brains, kid.”

He should have known, expectations rarely matched up with reality.

Said notion found him in front of his lunch one day, mumbling, “Nothing makes sense anymore.”

“Oh?” A tilted look of concern.

“I just- I never expected this, y’know?” Peter twirled a fork aimlessly between his fingers, eyes trained so hard on his meal he thought it might start sizzling soon. Or evaporate into dust. Whichever seemed possible at this rate. “It’s not bad, I mean, you have a great family and an actual kid now- which is totally cool, by the way! And May - May has Happy now, so the apartment's not that empty anymore, a-and she smiles a whole lot more these days. Which is good, I guess. The Accords isn’t even a legit thing anymore, the Avengers come together to sing Kumbaya every other weekend,” His fingers tightened round the fork. “Everything’s all good, yeah?”

There probably would have been a reply, if it wasn't for the tell-tale thump of approaching footsteps Peter never dreamed of growing familiar with.

“Afternoon, Captain Doritos,” Mr. Stark’s drawl felt appeasing at best, challenging at worst.

Captain Rogers threw a half-glance his way, nodding curtly. He went for the fridge in two large strides, swiping out a carton of milk and downing its contents in one vigorous go.

“Ugh, you’re gross, Cap, I’m getting the hell out of here,” Mr. Stark rose from his seat, lightly tousling Peter’s hair as he went. “Finish your grub and hang in the lab with me later, yeah?” His eyes seemed to soften. “It‘ll be just like old times.”

Old times. Right.

“Also-” Mr. Stark slapped the good Captain’s shoulder, smirking wildly at the vexed ‘Oi!’ that elicited. “If we’re watching anything remotely Disney tonight, I’m going back to Pep’s for the weekend.”

“For that alone, we’re watching Moana, Frozen and Mulan!” Captain Rogers hollered after the retreating metal middle finger shot high in the air, shaking his head once it fully disappeared down the hallway. A bemused look. “What’s wrong with Disney?”

Peter scoffed, grin plastered expertly on his face.

Another thing that didn’t make sense, this song and dance. This parade of concealed emotions, this system of tactical meet-and-retreat, this exhibition of faux jaunt put up for one another. The shake in Captain’s tone, the tremor in Mr. Stark’s arm - almost indiscernible and yet there it was. Always there, each time Peter looked.

Captain’s carton of milk slid into the bin by his feet. “So how was your week, son?”

Peter chewed on his noodles thoughtfully. “Tiring, I guess. Lots of homework. Also-” He made a face. “Son? Seriously? How nineteen-thirties can you get, Cap?”

Captain rolled his eyes, mock indignance in his stance. “Great. I have to deal with two Tony Starks in the team now, don’t I?”

“Exactly,” Peter smirked, drawing out the last syllable slightly.

He remembered piecing uncharacteristically silent calls with his own incessant chatter, so that the harsh breaths pulsating on the other end would finally, finally smoothen out. He remembered resting a hand over Tony’s arrhythmically flouncing heart, coaxing him for a meal, a drink or to just breathe. He remembered whispering to him in a voice so soft yet so firm, “Mr. Stark? Mr. St-Tony? Tony, it’s me. It’s Peter. No one else is here, okay? You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

He remembered the world of hurt his hero went through.

It wasn’t like Peter never asked.

He tried asking during the quiet moments, when he and Mr. Stark were the only ones up at ass ‘o clock, when Mr. Stark strolled into the kitchen for customary morning tea (Pepper said weekends were coffee-free days). He tried asking during the loud ones too, when Mr. Stark was drunk on whatever alcohol he was having, when all the Avengers were in the room, because surely Mr. Stark wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to brag about a good story in front of everyone, right? Wrong. That particular fiasco ended with more than a couple uncomfortable looks, a pale-faced Mr. Stark storming out of said room and a flustered Peter trailing after him with his dozen apologies.

It got to the point where Mr. Stark had to sit Peter down, look him in the eye and say, “That’s it.” His finger, the metal one, dug deep into Peter’s collared shirt. “Stop it, kid. Me and Rogers, whatever happened between the two of us, it’s got nothing to do with you. And we’re fine now. We’re fixed. We watch Star Wars and Harry Potter every other Sunday, for god’s sake. There’s no better that we can get.” The other hand pressed on his arm shakily, a sort of pleading in the motion. “You don’t have to do anything for us anymore. Alright?”

Peter stopped asking after that.

Instead, he made observations. His eyes tracked each subtle gesture of wistful longing between the two, sometimes bordering on spontaneous animosity. Day and night, he made summaries, graphs, charts and fifty-one five-page essays for ten days in a row, writing and writing like he was running out of time.

He conducted interviews too.

Colonel Rhodes shook his head so adamantly when Peter pulled him aside for one of his trademark inquiry sessions, refusing to divulge anything more than a clipped but not unkind, "There’s definitely problems this team hasn't come to terms with yet, but it doesn’t fall on your shoulders to solve them, Peter." Dr. Banner had been much more forthcoming, nodding along to Peter’s mini monologue of observations. He even pitched in some of his own discoveries as to how the two skirted around each other when there was or wasn’t an audience, albeit with a mild warning that some things aren’t meant to be pushed too hard.

Even Bucky once appeared in front of Peter’s room, bouquet of purple hydrangeas and mug of hot chocolate in tow after one particularly brutal sparring session which had ended with one man’s ruptured blood vessel and another’s broken nose. He spent an hour trying to convey that, that was just their way of resolving conflict, their way of getting things out of their system. There wasn’t much that could be done about it. There wasn’t much they could do about it.

Or so they said.

But how many sleepless dawns after patrol had Peter spent - huddled under blankets in front of a glaring screen, scouring his way through Friday’s systems, keying in every code, every digit he thought would lead him to the right answer. Something, anything that he could work with.

Two months, twenty days and twelve hours later, he found it. The answer. Or at least, a part of it.

It wasn’t pretty.

He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew that The Winter Soldier wasn’t Bucky, that the man in the video was just Hydra’s brainwashed lackey, that the Bucky he was familiar with would never consent to do anything remotely similar to what he had seen him do. He knew this, and yet some nights still found him jolting awake in a sea of his own sweat; May’s gasps echoing Maria Stark’s dying wheeze, Howard and Tony Stark’s pleas morphing into one, cold unflinching gaze haunting all the moments he fell quiescent.

In the moments that he was restless, however, Peter resumed his search. He ploughed through the frights and horrors and sleepless dawns even more frenetically than he first did, because if he didn’t get to the bottom of this, no one else would. Because he knew there was more than just ‘The Winter Soldier murdered Mr. Stark’s parents’; there was always more.

Because what use was a team, if all its splintered souls did nothing to embrace their blemishes?

“Hey, Pete.”

“Hm?”

“Wanna’ skip out on the theater gig tonight?” Alloyed fingers drummed idly on the lab table. “We could stay in here for a bit, work on those web-shooter combinations. Could order some tacos. Or pizza. Your choice.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Thought it was supposed to be tradition.”

“Yeah, I’m getting kinda’ sick of Rogers' princess movie obsession,” His eyes drifted upwards, thumbs twiddling. “You could go, though. If you want.”

Peter pulled back without missing a beat, eyes widening in comical fashion. “No, are you crazy? Lab night with pizza? When do I ever turn that down, Mr. Stark?”

An honest grin slid across Mr. Stark’s features. “Never.”

“That’s right.” Peter closed his eyes, leaning into the touch rifling through his unkempt locks. “Never.”

It didn’t make sense.

Did you know?

I didn’t know it was him.

Don’t bullshit me, Rogers!

Yes.

Peter watched, and still, nothing made sense.

He’s my friend.

So was I.

It. didn’t. make. sense.

Blinding white tore across the starless city sky in sharp erratic bursts, heated claws threatening to eliminate all in its path with each stroke of rampant rage. Ice-cold rivulets knocked mercilessly against bare skin, freezing the seconds ticking by as raddled sneakers thrummed upon asphalt, each reverberating cadence in perfect harmony with the furious anthem of unvoiced justice pumping through his veins.

Said anthem soared ever the more when the Captain’s door flung open, pounding hard at the seemingly bewildered face meeting his view.

"Peter? What's wrong?" The golden boy scanned him up and down, concern thick in his tone. "Why aren't you in your suit? Did something happ-"

Peter threw the answer up in his face, letting the phone explain everything as he panted over bent knees. The stark silence that ensued spoke for itself.

"Stevie, what's- oh." Him. No, Bucky. "Peter. You're- why don't we all come inside, yeah? Rain's pouring out here." The voice, so tender, not like. Not like him. Not. Him."I'll put the kettle on."

Which was how Peter ended up in one of Bucky's oversized shirts, settled opposite two war veterans, hands cupped round a mug of hot chocolate and eyes cast in a blatant show of quiet outrage.

"Explain," The anthem burned strong in him.

"Son-"

"Don't call me son."

"-this was all on me, alright?" Dejected tone, blonde head bowed over clasped hands.

Good.

“I- we disagreed on the Accords because-”

“I don’t care about that, Captain,” Peter set the mug down, flexing his fingers mechanically. “The Accords was rigged to begin with. Whatever that came after, shouldn’t be put on anyone but Ross, that I get.” He pressed a finger to the cracked screen of his phone. “No Captain, I’m talking about this.”

Captain Rogers stared at him with eyes so blue, but like the sick man in the video pointed out, there was a hint of green in that blue. A flaw.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” The captain leaned back into his seat, where Bucky’s prosthetic arm (that Tony Stark built for him) was stretched rigidly upon. “I thought that by not telling him, I was sparing him from the sorrow. But really, I was just sparing myself. I- I never meant for him to get hurt. And I’m sure, neither did he.”

Oddly, that last sentence was what pushed Peter over the edge.

“Neither did he?” His jaw clenched. “Neither did- are you seriously saying that right now? Of course he didn’t mean to hurt you! If he had any control over the situation, any control of the information that you withheld from him, he would not have done that.”

“I know, Peter.”

“Do you?” He hissed. “Do you really? Do you know the pain of losing your parents, of not knowing what the hell happened to them except that ‘They died in an accident’? Do you know the want, the pure want, to kill the piece of shit that took their lives, that walked free as you mourned their deaths? That ripped them from you, before you even got to know them?” His fists shook in tandem with the throbbing crescendo of his anthem. “Do you know, how Mr. Stark fought for you behind the scenes? How he wrote and rewrote proposals to alter The Accords, only to be rejected by Ross time and time again? How he hired lawyers and sometimes personally went to vouch for the others in the Raft? How he lost sleep at night, how he drank himself into oblivion, whimpering your name, begging me each time not to tell Mrs. Pepper or Rhodes, because apparently, it didn’t matter?”

Captain Rogers stiffened in his seat.

“Do you know?”

“No, son.”

“I’m not your son.”

Bucky remained a stock still statue by the Captain’s side.

Peter sighed, shoulders sagging. Deep breath, calm down. “Sorry.” The lingering pulse of anguish pushed to the back of his mind. “That was uncalled for. Sorry. ”

“Don’t be.” Bucky replied with haste.

Peter made another haphazard gesture towards their object of discussion. “Did you guys ever try talking to him about this?”

“I wrote him a letter.”

“Yeah, and sent him a burner phone, I know.” Peter snapped, tone sharp. “Scintillating ultimatum you gave him, by the way. He broke it in his fists after two whole months of drinking and staring.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t say that to me, Cap,” His fingers tapped the mug handle almost frantically. “Say that to Tony. He needs to hear it.”

“It’s only two years for you, Peter, but it’s been seven for us. He might’ve- he might not want to hear about this anymore. We’re fine like this.”

“Bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t notice the way you both act with each other. You guys really need to solve this shit,” Peter mulled over his words, before adding, “By solve, I mean talk about it. Not punch the living daylights out of each other.”

Captain Rogers shrugged hopelessly. “We don’t talk about things like this. It’ll just escalate, and then we’d be throwing fists all over again. Might as well get that done without scarring our hearts more than it already has been.”

“Are you serious?” Muted wrath threatened to positively devour the mug in his hands. “Dude, we could have lost Tony in that war. He could have snapped his fingers, and that would have been the last we saw of him. Would you have lived with this then? Not talking about this, because neither of you can stop feeding your very physical ego for one goddamn second? Because neither of you were brave enough to listen?”

Again, the stark silence spoke for itself.

“You need to talk about this.”

“Look, son-”

“Damn it, Cap!” Peter roared, fists banging against the table. “Call me son one more time!” The mad beast reared its horrendous head, yanking his vocal chords to unrivalled heights, fuelled by the heated flames that grew larger and fiercer with each thunderous beat. It fed off the tension, the visceral need to rip, maw and absolutely pulverise anything and everything that it could find.

Reddened eyes, full of tears unshed, reflected one another transparently.

He couldn’t take this anymore.

“Honestly,” He stood, mug left untouched, voice barely over a whisper. “With all due respect, Captain Rogers. You’re a fucking dick.”

Peter left, door slam behind him, along with Captain’s echoed ‘Wait!’ and Bucky’s muted ‘Kid’s got a point, Steve.’

Peter thought that if he found the answer, everything would make sense. Or, at the very least, he would feel better about things not making sense.

Clearly, he had been wrong.

The first night he stopped searching, his phone rang like the house was on fire.

Mr. Stark had been the first to call. Followed by Colonel Rhodes, then Bucky, then Captain Rogers, then Dr. Banner, and then subsequently the rest of what his team was supposed to consist of.

He refused to answer. He didn’t care if his phone burst from being called 24/7. He didn’t care.

Instead, he spent the rest of his time doing what he did best - he looked out for the little guy. He threw himself in front of cars inches away from crashing into one another, saved kittens from trees, taught children how to look both ways before crossing the street, spent time with that tired old man sitting alone on the park bench every week.

And when he wasn’t doing this, he was with May. May and Happy, sometimes, but mostly May.

He did his homework, with May. He had breakfast, lunch and essentially all his meals, with May. He watched those cheesy soap operas he missed, with May. He did all the things he longed to do, mourning the years that he lost, with May.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Maybe it was her firm arms cradling his head, maybe it was her tentative whisper, but there was something about hearing May calling him baby that made a lump form in his throat.

“I don’t know.”

May hummed. “Do you want to talk to Tony about it?”

“No,” Peter sniffed. “Not for now.”

“Okay, baby,” May rubbed the back of his neck in a way that only she knew how. “That’s okay.”

He stopped going for movies and lab nights on the weekends.

bucko (4:03 a.m.) : Hey punk, stevie and tony talked it out for a while. wasn’t pretty but, it was necessary, I think. you’re a legend, kid

coolestdoctorr(4:23 a.m.): I heard what you did. We all needed that to happen eventually. Thank you for being the bravest of us, for acknowledging our flaws and for bringing our team together as best as you can. Take as much rest as you need, and if you need someone to talk to, I’m happy to listen. Stay safe, and we love you.

warmachineROX (4:29 a.m.): you did great, Peter. I’m sorry i said you couldn’t do this; those boys really needed a nudge. Thanks for doing what you did. Take care, kid.

so-you-got-detention (4:28 p.m.): Peter, I don’t think there’s anything I can say except I’m sorry. You’re right, I should have talked with him about this 7 years ago. I spent a couple long hours with Tony earlier this weekend. That hardly made up for anything, but we’ll work it out. Things aren’t perfect, we’ll get it better. We have you to thank for that. I know you’re angry with me, which you have every right to be, but know that if you ever need help, just call me. I’ll be there.

he’s stark, tony stark (5:01 p.m.): b at ur place in 5 mins[sunglasses emoji]

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, kid.”

“Steve mad at me?”

“Definitely not.”

“...You mad at me?”

A pause. “Not really, no,” Mr. Stark rubbed the side of his chin, tilting his head towards Peter. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter felt his lips shiver against his teeth, sheen of moist clouding his vision, head bowed low and voice crackling, “It does.”

Arms, one alloyed and the other so very real, quietly rolled themselves round his trembling frame, guiding his head towards the steady rise and fall of his hero’s chest, flesh thumb rubbing slow circles over his back, whispers of soft nothings soothing his hair and eventually, a light peck on the forehead.

They stayed like that for a while, beside Peter’s unmade bed, melancholic warmth emanating like cool salve on an open wound. It was comforting, that lack of sound, that silence that spoke the thousand words they couldn’t.

And then, the patented smirk. “You did good, kid,” His tone, so fond. “Friday probably thinks otherwise, though. She’s a little pissed, I think. Kudos for that, by the way. Real sneaky.”

Purely on a whim, Peter snorted, “Love you too, Tony.”

For a moment, it looked as though Tony might just melt into an emotional puddle of goo. Thankfully, he didn’t; Peter wouldn’t know what to do if he did. Instead, he sucked in a deep breath, squeezed Peter closer to his heart, and in a voice smaller than Peter had ever heard, muttered,“Lab night this Sunday?”

Peter, in all his glorious mess of tears and snot, broke into a wobbly laugh.

Always.

#friendly-neighborhood-exchange #this was fun

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

Text

Infernal - III

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 3.1k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 3

A/N: things are starting to heat up guys! thank you for sticking around with me 💕 before we start i just want to say that there’ll be way more caliban in the next part (promise)!!

For once, your dad left the house on his own and left you with the perfect opportunity to go through his desk. You never used to snoop, but he never used to give you a reason to. He was getting worse and you needed to find out what ‘worse’ was.

The desk was scattered with notes and notes about the lunar cycle and ley lines, some too messy for you to make out. He’d charted a map that looked eerily familiar with ley lines in black ink on top. Messy colors illustrated how the power ebbed and flowed with the moon throughout the town.

You were about to shove this stack back into one of the drawers when something caught your eye. An old, crumpled up map of Greendale sandwiched between other drawings in the stack. You laid the Greendale map above your dad’s map for Delilah’s home town. They looked exactly the same.

A note was scrawled on top of the Greendale map and you squinted to make it out. Met Kali in June. Some scribbles underneath that you assumed were the timeline of their relationship, the last date entered was your birthday. Kali never returns.

Your phone rang out in your pocket and you jumped. Swearing and fumbling to silence it with one hand while trying to put the papers back into their stack with the other, you eventually got everything back to normal. Heart rate not included.

“Hey, where are you?” Roz asked. “I thought we were going to see what’s up with the carnival after school.”

“Crap, that was today?” you asked. You rubbed your forehead and sighed.

“Uh, yeah. That’s what we said at lunch,” she said slowly. You could hear her shifting on the other end of the phone. “Were you even paying attention? You seemed pretty spaced out.”

“I’ve just had a lot going on at the moment,” you said. It wasn’t technically a lie, but you knew Roz could pick up on your uncertainty. “You guys go ahead and I’ll meet up with you some other time.”

“Okay, well, are you coming to band practice later?” she asked after a few seconds.

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll leave now so I don’t forget again.”

“Right,” Roz said, clearly unimpressed by your attempt at a joke.

Hanging up and closing the door on the mystery that was your father, you started getting some things together so you could head over to Harvey’s. There was a book lying on your bed with a sticky note on the cover. You peeled back the sticky note (Thought you might enjoy this one!) to see Shakespeare's The Tempest in swirling letters. You put it, some homework, and the book you’d borrowed from the Spellman’s into your backpack.

After what you considered a valiant effort at your homework in Harvey’s garage, you started leafing through the witchcraft book. It went into great detail about all manners of topics that were largely useless to you at that time. Sighing and putting it back into your backpack, you took out The Tempest. You only managed to get through the first few pages before Harvey and Theo hurried in, carrying Roz between them.

“Woah, what happened to her?” you asked, getting up and leaving the book on your chair.

“We don’t know,” Theo rushed out. “She went into one of the tents at the carnival and something happened.”

“Lie her down,” you said. You grabbed a blanket and covered Roz in it; she was shaking so badly that you weren’t sure she’d ever get warm again. The thought sent goosebumps up your skin.

“We should take her to the hospital,” Theo said, still visibly freaked out as he watched you with Roz.

“Come on, Theo, you know whatever happened to her is … it’s magic-related,” Harvey said. He turned his attention back to Roz. “Roz, can you tell us what happened to you?”

Roz struggled through the cold to form words, but they didn’t seem to be making any noise. “Get Sa … Sabrina,” she forced out.

“She’s right,” Theo said. “Sabrina would know what to do.”

“Okay, you guys stay here. I’ll go get her,” Harvey said, already getting up and running out the door.

You and Theo shared an anxious look before he tucked the blankets a bit tighter around Roz. You went to find a heating pack and anything else to raise her temperature while he stayed with her. The two of you tried everything you could think of but nothing seemed to warm her up, not even the magick blanket that Harvey brought with him when he came back.

“Roz, maybe if you moved around, it would help warm you up,” Theo suggested as gently as he could.

He stopped pacing long enough to say, “She can’t! She can’t move,” and to receive one of the harshest glares you’d ever given him.

“He’s trying to help,” you said, each word sounding like its own sentence as you continued to glare at him. This wasn’t Theo’s fault, and Harvey didn’t get the monopoly on being concerned for Roz.

“I know! I just-” Harvey sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m not sitting around and waiting for Sabrina. We have to do something before it’s too late.”

“What are we gonna do, Harvey?” you asked. “Because the last time I checked, none of us have magical powers, which means we can’t cure a magical illness.”

He picked up a shotgun from the wall and turned back to look at you. “Maybe we can’t, but the people from the carnival can.”

“Are you insane or just-”

Your yelling was cut off by Harvey running out the door, shotgun in hand. Theo got up, either to go with him or stop him but you held out a hand to stop him.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere,” you said, words sounding more forceful than you meant them to. “You’re going to sit there and help me take care of her.”

You thought he’d argue but instead, Theo just blinked at you twice and sank back into his seat. You took a breath and then started pacing to help you think. Harvey came back sometime later, and Roz turned to stone sometime after that. Eventually, you managed to get ahold of Sabrina.

She basically said that there was nothing you guys could do until she managed to get her powers back. You considered using Caliban’s magick necklace to ask him to help, but Sabrina promised that Ambrose was already researching how to reverse the transformation before you could even mention the necklace.

All the three of you could do was watch over Roz, stay together and, please, keep away from the carnival. The pagans, she said, were dangerous.

Sabrina’s warning did little (or nothing) to deter Harvey from going to the carnival with the reinforcements of the baseball team while you went to get the group some food and Theo checked on Robin. You’d gotten a frantic call from Theo about the boys being turned to pigs and to come help corral them.

After a long night, you now sat with Theo, Robin, and Harvey, slumped against his couch and covered in mud after corralling the newly-transformed baseball pigs into Theo’s barn. Getting all the pigs and cursing Harvey to heaven and back had really taken it out of you.

“I’m never eating bacon again,” Theo said eventually. You would have laughed if you weren’t so tired. A moment of silence passed as he looked between you and Harvey. Can I tell him? The two of you gave him a nod and he continued, “Robin, there’s a few things you need to know about Greendale.”

Robin sat up and told him to wait. He was always nervous but now he seemed even worse. “Let me go first,” he said. “There’s some things I need to tell you … all of you.”

You and Harvey looked at each other before Robin explained. He was a hobgoblin, taken in by the pagans. He rushed out that he didn’t believe in the same things as them and that he wanted to leave them but … he didn’t know how. After some yelling, the four of you took a breath and made a decision.

Robin was one of you now.

“Where have you guys been?” Sabrina asked when she finally showed up again. All of you scrambled to your feet at the sound of her voice. “You look like-”

“We were in the mud,” Harvey cut her off. “Where have you been?”

“All over. Things have been a little crazy,” Sabrina said.

“The baseball players got turned into pigs,” Theo said.

“What?” she asked.

“Harvey got in his head to send a message,” you said, sending him a pointed look. “He took Billy and Carl to the carnival.”

Deciding it was his turn to talk again, Harvey jumped in. “And this woman, some kind of witch-”

“Circe,” Robin said.

“-turned Billy and Carl and Martin and Eric into pigs,” Harvey said. “They’re in Theo’s barn.”

“And Robin’s one of ‘em,” Theo finished.

Sabrina was more appalled than you expected by the revelation. Robin had to go through his whole explanation again, this time sounding even more frayed, and it broke your heart. He didn’t want to be a part of the Green Man’s resurrection. He just wanted to be a teenager.

“And when exactly is this resurrection supposed to happen?” Sabrina asked.

“Uh, when the Green Man’s head scrapes the sky and the ripe fruit falls from his arms,” Robin answered.

“So I’m guessing that means we’ve got time to save Roz and figure this whole mess out,” you said, taking a breath and moving your hair out of your face.

“Yeah, but how are we supposed to do that?” Harvey asked. “Sabrina doesn’t have any powers.”

In an all too familiar way, a voice from the side caught your attention. “Perhaps I can help,” Caliban offered from the doorway. He caught your eye and seemed ready to make some quip about the mud, but Harvey was too quick.

“What the hell is he doing here?” he asked.

You shoved aside the defensiveness you felt for Caliban at that moment and acted like you couldn’t care less about his presence … after making sure that the necklace hadn’t fallen into view and was still safely hidden away behind your muddy clothes.

“Caliban, if this is about the third challenge-” Sabrina started.

“I came to make a proposal, away from the Courts of Hell,” Caliban cut her off, taking his eyes off you long enough to look at her. “If my queen were to entertain it, I would, in turn, help your friend.”

“What kind of proposal?” you asked, at the same time Sabrina asked, “What do you know about turning someone from stone to flesh?”

“I’m made of clay,” Caliban said to her. Explained the cheekbones, not that you’d ever tell him that. Then he looked at you and added, “I’m afraid I can’t discuss official business, love.”

“Start talking about how you’re gonna fix Roz,” you said, taking slow deliberate steps towards him. You poked his chest when you were close enough “Or get the hell out.”

Caliban’s eyebrows knitted together slightly as ran his right thumb across his lip, seemingly deciding what he thought of your more direct approach, before speaking. “There’s a spell, a Pygmalion spell, that will turn her back into flesh.”

“Do you know it?” Sabrina asked from behind you.

“Not by heart, no. I’d have to find it,” Caliban said, leaning slightly to look at her. “If you came with me, I could outline my proposal.”

“Sabrina, if he can fix Roz-”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” Sabrina said. She walked around you and out the door, turning back to tell Caliban to follow her.

The two of them disappeared in unholy hellfire, not completely unlike what you were feeling on the inside. You knew he only wanted the crown - that he only wanted Sabrina - so why were you so upset that he was keeping this proposal such a secret?

“I should go,” you said, trying to cover up the acid in your voice as you turned to face your friends. “I’ve got a paper due tomorrow.”

“We should go, too,” Theo said, taking Robin’s hand in his.

“Wait, you guys can’t all just leave,” Harvey argued.

“Harvey, we’ll be back first thing in the morning, okay?” you promised, trying to sound more benevolent than you felt. “Or sooner if Sabrina and Caliban get back before then.”

---

In all fairness, you did try to get down that paper after you showered. The problem was that that blonde asshole was there every time you closed your eyes, pulling you in with his pretty smile before pushing you away when he got bored. Slamming all the books shut, you went downstairs to get something to eat.

You found your dad in the living room when you went down, passed out in front of the TV. You covered him in a blanket and went to mope in the kitchen, but someone knocked on the door before you could make it there. After an overly dramatic sigh, you went to check who it was.

“Mrs. Wardwell? It’s like 11pm. What are you-” you stopped when she got this sinister look in her smile. “Lilith. What do you want?”

“Sabrina let The Dark Lord out of his cage,” she said, sounding like she was trying very hard to remain cold and detached as she always did. The flippancy gave her away. “I need asylum.”

“Asylum,” you repeated slowly, closing the door slightly in an attempt to block her view of the rest of the house. “Wouldn’t the coven be better suited for that me?”

“Going to witches without power is like putting on sunscreen after you’ve already been burned. Useless,” Lilith said, emphasis on the burned. “Besides, this is a matter best handled by family.”

“Listen, I think you’ve got the wrong-”

“Kali?” your dad’s tired voice asked behind you. You hadn’t heard him get up. “Kali, I thought that was you.”

Lilith said your dad’s name with an emotion you didn’t think she was capable of as she crossed the threshold. Maybe she was a better actress than you gave her credit for. “I think it’s time we had our first family meeting, don’t you?” she asked, setting her bags down. “We have much to discuss.”

You didn’t have the opportunity to argue before your dad went to make tea and Lilith settled into the corner. You knew the last place she wanted to be was sitting at your cramped Ikea table, but she seemed perfectly content to be there. Trying to figure out her angle, you sized her up and skulked closer.

“Okay, are either of you going to explain what the hell is going on?” you asked after five minutes of silence.

“Y/N,” your dad scolded as he turned around. “Language.”

“I don’t really think you have the moral high-ground here,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“The moral high-ground,” Lilith said slowly before shaking her head, as if trying the words on and then deciding they weren’t for her. “Nevermind that, let’s cut to the chase. You’re familiar with your friend Rosalind’s cunning?” You nodded. “Your father has something similar. When I visited Earth to negotiate with Edward Spellman, he found me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” your dad said, sounding dreamy again. You wondered if he’d remember this in the morning, or if he’d snap back to consciousness when he dropped the teacup in his hands. “I was just drawn to this place, you know? And then when I met Kali, I knew the reason why.”

Lilith didn’t seem nearly as enamored with your dad as he did with her. You tried to keep your voice even as you drew your eyes off of her and to your dad. “And what was the reason?”

“Kali is the mother of all demons,” he said, sounding like this was something he’d already explained to you before. “She needed an heir. Someone to claim the throne.”

It felt like someone had punched you. Years spent searching for something more and this was what you got. Your father’s sickening warning during one of his fits ran through your thoughts: Careful what you wish for, little lily. Something more, something less. Always something, something, something. How long until something eats you whole?

“Someone like Sabrina?” you asked, trying to recover.

“With a little help from your mother …” Lilith said in a tempting voice, “You could be every bit as powerful as Sabrina. Perhaps even more so, since you don’t seem to share her affinity for bad decision making.”

“What makes you think I’d want anything from you?” you asked, ignoring the quip about decision making. Screw her for thinking she knew you.

“Y/N,” your dad scolded again.

“You might not want anything from me, but you do want the power,” Lilith said, leaning back in her chair to get a better look at you. She’d never seen you angry before, did she like it? Did you care? “Something more than this simple life. I can give that to you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek before trying to answer. You didn’t know how to respond, so you asked another question instead. “If I’m supposed to be some heir then why are you only here now?”

“Truthfully, I was hoping I would never have to come here at all,” Lilith said, taking a dramatic inhale. “I would only need you if something went wrong, and believe it or not I didn’t want to involve you if I didn’t have to.”

“I believe it just fine,” you said, tone snipping at the end. “Abandoning your backup so you could plan a coop doesn’t make you a martyr.” Before she could respond, your phone rang. Your dad looked ready to tell you to put it away when Lilith held up a hand to stop him. Hesitantly, you picked it up. “What’s wrong, Harvey?”

“Can you meet us at the school?” he asked, sounding rushed. “Sabrina’s got the spell and-”

“Listen, things are a little crazy right now,” you said, drawing out the words so you could come up with an excuse and repress the anger you felt. “Can I call you-”

“Go,” your dad said, louder than Harvey’s insistent whining in your ear. Lilith shrugged. “Go help your friends.”

“I-” you took a breath and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’ll be right there. Wait for me.”

Part 4

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