#still not fully ready to officially commit to the return date

[deoidesign]

For my birthday... read my webcomic! It's literally free! (Unless you want books. Those are not free)

It's beautiful, it's gentle, it's funny, they're canonically t4t and gay... And it's about time traveling vampires solving supernatural mysteries!

I've spent thousands of hours writing and drawing it, and it's really good! I'm not biased!

It's on hiatus right now and coming back in 2 months, so it's the perfect time to get caught up

[ravennaortiz]

hello! could i please request a yandere/dark!Juice with younger!fem!reader and the quote “I claimed you with this tattoo.”? i was thinking maybe reader is Jax’s younger, innocent sister and Juice drugs her and gets Happy to give the reader Juice’s giant crow on her backside (like a ‘tramp stamp’, how Tara’s was). and maybe she wakes up, sees it in the mirror and Juice is so happy, he’s ready to tell everyone that you’re officially his. he also definitely would want to start making babies with you asap. please feel free to change anything or let me know if it’s too dark! thank you SOOO much! ❤️

Summary: Juice and readers developing relationship. While they are both very much truly in love with one another Juice is manipulative. Readers age is not mentioned but she is over 18.

Warnings: As always 18+. Toxic Relationship/power dynamics, coercing, drugging. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Please proceed with care.

You Love Me. Right?

“You wanted to see me?” you called peeking your head in the doorway of the clubs meeting area. Noting Chibs and your brother sitting at the table.

“Yeah, come in and take a seat” stated Jax as he motioned for you to join them. Once you were seated Jax spoke.

“I just wanted to check in about you and Juice. I’ve noticed a lot of flirting, you two seem to be getting closer than friends now.  While I’m not trying to tell you what to do, cause you are over eighteen. I just want to make sure you understand what you’re getting into here. You don’t have a whole lot of dating experience and shit” he stated as he eyed you closely, noting the redness in your cheeks as you looked away from him. “Last night the little stunt with the prospect seemed to stem from you wanting to make Juice jealous. Am I wrong?”

“No” you replied quietly. Your mind replayed the night before. You had shot your shot with Juice and he had while nicely still turned you down talking about the age difference and your lack of experience. You were devastated because you thought the two of you were on the same page. You had fled the clubhouse in embarrassment and spent a good amount of time crying in the office at the garage. Once you had calmed down you had returned and drunk yourself into a happier state as you danced with the new prospect before letting him kiss you and maneuver you to the dorm hallway after seeing Juice with a crow eater on his lap. You had figured two could play at this game. The events after got a little blurry but Juices growled words of shes mine as he loomed over the prospect as Jax and Chibs pulled him back were engraved on your soul.

Jax rubbed his face as he looked at Chibs. The latter who just shrugged his shoulders. The two of them had already talked with Juice earlier. Jax had wanted to kick his ass for even thinking of laying claim to his baby sister but Chibs had been a voice of reason. You were both adults and both consenting. While Jax could disapprove he couldn’t really stop you from dating each other. Juice had been honest in his feelings for you to them. He was willingly to commit and not step out. He was madly in love with you and had even asked if he could offer you his crow which had taken Jax for surprise. He had been hesitant but had agreed as long as you were fully on board. Which is why he wanted to talk with you first.

“So you like him then?” inquired Jax. Once you had nodded Jax spoke again. “As your older brother I just want to protect you. I never want to see you hurt in anyway. If pursuing a relationship with Juice is something you want then I won’t stop that. I just want you to really think through each step before saying yes. Dating a club member is different than dating some guy you went to school with and such. You understand what I am saying?”

“I do, yeah.” You replied as you looked back up at him smiling. “I really really like him Jax. He is so sweet and always watches out for me. He’s perfect” you gushed as you clamped your hands in your lap.

Three Months Later

You and Juice were cuddling on his bed after sex. Your head buried in his chest as he traced the curve of your spine with his fingers. “So, what do you think about getting my crow now babe?” he murmured as he kissed the top of your head, fingers tracing your lower back now. His mind picturing the crow splayed across your skin, staking claim, marking you as his.

“I don’t know. I worry its too soon” you murmured as you nervously bit your lower lip. While you wanted the tattoo, you were still worried about having something so permanent on your skin.

Juice frowned as he continued to stroke your soft flesh. “You want it though. Right?” he inquired as he used his other hand to lift your chin so he could see your face.

“Of course.” You replied with a nod. “I’m just worried about the pain and what happens if we don’t work out?”

“I love you and you love me. Right?” replied Juice softly as he stroked your cheek with his thumb as he smiled as you. Once you nodded he spoke again. “Then we are going to work out. It’s you and me babe. Forever” replied Juice as he leaned down to kiss you.

Juice whistled as he played around with his laptop. He had finally got enough recordings to put together a phone call from you to Happy letting him know you wanted the crow tattoo that Juice had sent him when you two first got together. He had wanted to talk to you first to make sure you understood the commitment and stuff since you were be sedated. Checking the cameras he saw you were still in the tub relaxing. He felt his pants start to tent as his eyes roamed your body before he shook himself from the distraction.  Clicking another button had a ringing in his headphones as he listened in on the call between Happy and the voice recordings. A few minutes later he was shutting his laptop after confirming the appointment for tomorrow. You would be marked and claimed in more than one way he thought as a alarm went off on his phone. He smiled as he glanced at it before clearing it away.

“Peak Ovulation”

Next Day

“Yuck” you stated as you spat out your drink making Juice frown.

“Not good?” he inquired casually.

“I’m not sure. It’s like salty almost and grainy” you replied as you held your glass out for him to take a sip.

“Oh yeah. That’s off let me go make you another” he replied before disappearing into the kitchen. “Here you go love” he stated as he handed you a new drink. “Better” he asked as he watched you take a drink. Once you nodded he grinned before collapsing back on the couch and starting the movie. You smiled as he pulled you into him, your head resting on his shoulder.

You felt groggy and like your back was on fire. A weird buzzing filled your ears as well as the murmur of voices. You must have fallen asleep on the couch you thought as you struggled to open your eyes. Blinking rapidly as you tried to open them you were confused as you saw yourself. Well your reflection in a large floor length mirror. Blinking more you saw Juice and Happy. Frowning you tried to speak but couldn’t get anything out. As your eyes focused more you recognized Happys tattoo shop and your stomach flipped as you saw in another mirror your shirt was off as he worked on a tattoo on your lower back.

“What’s happening” you croaked out as you started crying startling both men. Happy frowned and immediately pulled the tattoo gun away from you as you started moving. Shooting Juice a look of suspicion.

“She’s just in pain, sedatives are wearing off cause your taking too long” offered Juice as he moved to the front of you cupping your face gently. “Shh its okay baby girl. You’re getting my crow like you wanted. Remember we talked about it last night and you called Happy and set this up?” he inquired smoothly as he caressed your cheeks gently, brushing away the tears.

“I…i…. forgot” you murmured as you struggled to recall this. Juice wouldn’t lie to you.

“It’s okay. I love you and you love me. Right? That’s why I claimed you with this tattoo” Juice continued as you nodded. “So you are going to be a good girl for me right and let Hap finish?”

“Yes, I’m good Happy. Thank you” you replied as Juice kissed your forehead before nodding to Happy to finish up.

That night you were laying naked on Juices bed as he gently dried you off from your shower. “Want a back rub” he asked as he grabbed your lotion form the nightstand and poured some on your back making you shiver.

“Please” you groaned as he started to gently knead your flesh. An hour later you were a moaning mess, fisting the sheets as he pumped his fingers in and out of your soaking core. Taking you to the edge but never letting you go over. Your mind was heavy and fuzzy with lust, body tight with the need for release.

“Want something pretty girl” chuckled Juice as he held your hips as you tried pushing them back to find his fingers again.

“You. Juice please” you whined as you turned to look at him over your shoulder panting with need.

“Now” questioned Juice as he pulled his sweats down letting his cock bob in the air before resting on your ass as he leaned over you kissing the middle of your back.

“Now” you demanded as you moved under him making him groan as his cock rubbed between your cheeks, spreading his precum across your skin. His fingers were on the drawer of your nightstand when he grinned at your next sentence.

“Fuck me Juice. Now I can’t take this anymore” you demanded as you raised your hips up under him.

“As you wish babygirl” he murmured as he leaned back and notched his leaking tip at your dripping core. With a quick snap of his hips you were both moaning as your soft walls fluttered and milked him. Gripping your hips roughly he pounded you into the mattress as you moaned his name. Heart pounding as your orgasm washed over you quickly. Your vision tunneling as you saw stars and electricity coursed through you. Fists clenching the sheets tightly as you tried to get away from the over whelming amount of pleasure going through you Juice thrusted into you a few more times before turning sloppy as he started pouring hot ropes of cum into you.

Something felt different. Wrong. You had never felt this after sex with Juice before. Your heart was pounding for more than one reason now. Your hands clenching the bed sheet even tighter as tears prickled at your lash line. No you thought as you felt the weight on top of you shift. "Juice" you stated quietly.

"Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to" soothed Juice as he pulled from you some more. His eyes locked on the space where your bodies met. Grinning as his cock twitched again pouring more of his release inside of you. He was already picturing you with a swollen belly and tits. How beautiful you would look as you carried all of his babies. He would keep you filled he though before the sounds of you crying pulled him from his thoughts.

“Why did you cum in me. I’m not ready for a baby” you sobbed as you struggled to get out from under him.

Juice felt his heart aching at your words. He had hurt you and he hadn’t meant for that to happen. “Baby I’m sorry, we got carried away. I just wanted to give you want you wanted. I was going to but you said now. My brain short circuited. I know it’s a lame ass excuse. You have to trust me it was an accident” he soothed as he pulled you into his arms, tuning you over and holding you tight so you couldn’t get away. He rocked you as you cried until you had calmed down some.

He was right. You had told him now and its not like you hadn’t wanted to have sex. These things happened you thought to yourself as you let him soothe you. Tears falling on your forehead caught you off guard making you look up into his face full of sorrow and remorse as his own tears fell.

“Please forgive me” he begged as he held you tighter.

“Its okay” you replied as you kissed him.

“Thank you.” He replied as he pulled from your lips. “Besides what happens happens. Because I love you and you love me. Right?”

“Right” you replied as you smiled.

A year later

“Another one? Damn I just got used to being an uncle” laughed Jax as you and Juice sat on his couch as he unwrapped the announcement gift you had brought him. You both laughed as you looked at each other.

“What can I say he love me and I love him” you stated.

[thestoryofmymind99]

Central Park Boathouse Reopens, Row Boat Rentals Available for Spring

Enjoy a leisurely day on the Central Park Lake with row boat rentals and gondola rides.

Central Park, the iconic green oasis in the heart of New York City, is known for its picturesque landscapes and recreational activities. One of the most beloved attractions in the park is the Central Park Boathouse, where visitors can rent row boats and take gondola rides on the tranquil Central Park Lake. After a temporary closure, the Boathouse has reopened its doors, offering row boat rentals for those looking to unwind and enjoy the beauty of the park.

Whether you're a local looking for a peaceful escape or a tourist seeking a unique experience, a row boat ride in Central Park is the perfect way to spend a sunny afternoon.

Row Boat Rental Schedule & Details

From March 4th, 2024, the Central Park Boathouse has fully reopened its doors to the public. Although the boat rental service is still closed for the winter season, it will return again in the spring. Visitors can enjoy the convenience of walk-up rentals and pay with credit card or Apple Pay.

Reservations will soon be available through the popular reservation service, OpenTable. The row boats can accommodate up to four people and are available on a first-come, first-served basis. Life jackets are provided for safety, and children must be at least 3 feet tall to participate.

Additionally, children aged 12 and under must be accompanied by an adult. Pets are not permitted on the boats, ensuring a peaceful and serene experience for all visitors.

Gondola Rides Temporarily Suspended

While row boat rentals are available, gondola rides on the Central Park Lake are temporarily suspended until further notice. Visitors are encouraged to sign up for the free newsletter provided by the Central Park Boathouse to stay informed about the official reopening date and online bookings for gondola rides. The gondola rides offer a unique and romantic experience, reminiscent of the Venetian canals, and will be a must-do activity once they resume.

Waterside Picnic Experiences and More

The Central Park Boathouse also offers additional experiences for special occasions. Visitors can book a waterside picnic experience to enjoy by the lake, adding a touch of romance or celebration to their outing. The picturesque setting of the Central Park Lake provides the perfect backdrop for proposals or other memorable moments.

For those looking to enhance their row boat adventure, the Boathouse offers ready-made grab n' go picnic bags, allowing visitors to enjoy a delightful meal while surrounded by the park's natural beauty.

The History of the Central Park Boathouse

The Central Park Boathouse, known as the Loeb Boathouse, has recently undergone a change in management. Legends Hospitality, the new operators, have taken over the reins and are committed to providing visitors with an exceptional experience.

The restaurant at the Boathouse has partially reopened with the outdoor patio cafe, offering a delightful dining experience amidst the park's tranquility. Visitors can enjoy a meal overlooking the lake and take in the sights and sounds of Central Park.

With the reopening of the Central Park Boathouse, visitors can once again indulge in the timeless pleasure of rowing on the Central Park Lake. The row boat rentals, available for spring, provide an opportunity to relax, connect with nature, and create lasting memories. While gondola rides are temporarily suspended, the anticipation builds for their return, promising a romantic and enchanting experience.

Central Park continues to be a haven for New Yorkers and tourists alike, offering a respite from the bustling city streets. The Boathouse, with its row boats and gondolas, adds to the allure of the park, allowing visitors to immerse themselves in the beauty and serenity of Central Park's iconic lake.

So, grab your oars and embark on a leisurely adventure in Central Park. The row boats await, promising a serene escape from the city's hustle and bustle.

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ scenario: connor losing his mind when you're hurt and charging into the fight recklessly.

♡ pairing: connor kent ( superboy ) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / i'm sorry but i'm living for these angst to fluff moments rn especially bc i rewatched reign of the superman and forgot how much i loved connor in it.

Connor watched as you were completely slumped on the side of the building, no longer clear headed and struggling to stay awake. what was supposed to be a clean and easy mission turned out to be more than what the league expected.

he had requested for back up and while they were already trying to fight off the thugs that were attacking Connor, he could still see that you were fighting to stay alive and he had no idea if you were even going to come out of this fight alive.

"what the fuck?" Connor whispered, seeing you now slumped on the ground. he turned to the person who attacked you, eyes fully red with no intention of holding back. Clark could sense his song was a second away from committing murder as he saw Connor charge into the heart of the battle with no game plan, just murder.

"SUPERBOY NO!"

+

you waved shyly to the group of league members as you hid behind Wonder Woman. you were new to the scene of sidekicks and had no idea how to even introduce yourself without sounding like a complete idiot.

"woah new girl!" you heard a male voice say as you stood in your place petrified. you had no idea who it was as Diana had yet to individually introduce you to everyone, "i call dibs!" you heard the same voice say.

Diana turned to you before grabbing the boy who was charging towards you by the head and tossed him back to Superman, "she's not up for 'dibs' Superboy. she's my newest apprentice and you will treat her as such," she threatened.

you giggled behind her as a few of the sidekicks introduced themselves. you knew them as the Young Justice team and although you weren't formally with the team, you figured Diana was training you to become apart of them in the future.

"( your hero name ), this is Superboy," Wonder Woman said, "he associated to the Super family," she explained as he pushed up his dark circled glasses and flicked his hair back, "pleasure is all mine," he muttered, shaking your hand.

you returned a tiny smile before she continued to introduce you to Robin and Impulse. you noticed how Superboy kept his eyes on you. you had no idea if it was because he liked you or he disliked you but every time you turned to look at him, he was already staring at you.

after introductions and the cliche 'your real identity is sacred' conversation ended, Diana felt it was for your own good to get used to your new 'teammates'. she wanted you to make sure you weren't uncomfortable around any of the YJ team even if that included Superboy.

"so, what do you like to do for fun?" Wonder Girl asked, sitting down next to you and handing you a bowl of popcorn. you shrugged, "uh, not much. I like to watch tv and read for the most part. no one really invites me to do things with them," you admitted, scratching the back of your head.

she laughed, putting her arm around you, "well that ends today! we should all do something fun! how about we go to the county fair? doesn't that sound fun?" she asked. you shrugged, not really opposed to the idea, "I call all the rides with ( your hero name )!" Jinny replied.

you smiled, following her and Wonder Girl out the door as Robin, Impulse, and Superboy followed behind you. Robin looked at him, "you like her don't you?" he asked, already calculating the minute Connor had fallen in love with you.

"well she's apart of the team, i'd like to hope we'd all like her," he replied as Robin shook his head, "no, you get what i mean by that," Robin pressed as he could see Connor's face fall with realization. he didn't reply but he could tell what he was tell Connor's real answer through his face.

as they arrived to the fair, they all booked it to the first food stand they saw. Robin offering to pay for everyone being Bruce Wayne's son had its benefits. you ordered a simple coffee as you didn't want Robin to spend too much on everyone.

"what ride should we all get on first?" Jinny asked excitedly. you pointed to the tallest ride, it was one of those high rides that sat two people at the top and had them spinning around, "oh I can't do that. it's way too scary," both Keli and Jinny said.

Superboy smiled at you, "I'm down if you are," he said as he grabbed two tickets from the worker, "cool," you replied as the two of you walked to the line, sweat already building up from nervousness.

once they sat the two of you and made sure you were both buckled in, you stared at Superboy nervously as the ride started up and pulled you up before immediately starting to spin. you stared at Superboy, screaming for you life. you unintentionally grabbed his arms, not realizing you were holding onto him as you continued to yell.

Superboy chuckled, finding your reaction cute.

+

after the months passed and you finally grew closer to everyone on the team, you were particularly close with Jinny and Superboy. you and Jinny shared a lot of common interests as she showed you how to shoot a gun and Superboy...well, everyone could tell the two of you were just seconds away from actually dating.

you walked into the YJ lair, sipping on hot chocolates with Jinny as the weather was turning cold. she was cracking some cringe dad jokes, trying to make you laugh as you tried to contain from choking on the hot chocolate.

"hey, where we yall at?" Keli asked. you turned to Jinny before giggling, "just doing a few errands we had to run before I had patrol with Superboy," you said, not really clarifying on what you both were actually doing.

although everyone could see how much you liked Connor, Connor himself thought you had a thing with Jinny. he knew she was particularly close with you and felt as though he was practically competing with her for your attention.

"do you have my phone?" you asked Jinny as she dug into her pocket and handed it to you. you grabbed your phone before quickly snatching her hat and putting it on, "yee-haw," you giggled into the mirror as Jinny started chasing you down the halls.

as you turned a corner, you bumped into Superboy and fell flat on your ass, "oh, I'm sorry Superboy, I didn't see you there," you groaned as Jinny grabbed her had and put it back on her, "you've yee'd your last haw," she said, making you laugh harshly.

Superboy's eye couldn't help but twitch as he gave you his hand, "ready for patrol?" he asked sternly. you looked to Jinny who crept away from the angry Kryptonian and left you to deal with him, "yeah, let me just freshen up again and I'll meet you outside," you murmured, going into the bathroom.

you quickly used the bathroom before checking if you had everything. you opened the door and walked into the lair's common area. Connor had yet to drop the angry attitude and everyone was eerily silent as you walked in. he grabbed you by the arm and practically rushed you out the door.

"weird," Jinny told Robin as he shrugged, "what isn't weird about him," he replied making everyone laugh.

patrol started extremely awkward. you hadn't felt this weird since you first started on the team and you had no idea what was wrong with Superboy since he wasn't telling you.

the two of you walked on top of roof, scanning the empty roads before you turned to look at him, "what's up? you seem bothered," you asked him as you both sat on the ledge, "seriously? you seem annoyed at me or something so at the very least you can try and tell me what's wrong," you pressured again.

he looked at you with eyes of determination before grabbing you by the collar of the shirt and pulling you into a very heated kiss. you were taken back by surprise but let him continue to kiss you. a part of yelled at Connor pulled you close but another part of him was still screaming at him that you still could've liked Jinny.

"I had to do that before Jinny officially took you away from me," your eyes fluttered in confusion, "uh, what do you mean by 'take you away from me'?" you asked, not knowing what he was talking about.

Connor sighed in frustration, "I see the way you're around Jinny and figured that she likes you and vice versa," he finally admitted as he stood up, not wanting to hear your response. you quickly stood up and grabbed him by the wrist, "hey wait," you said.

he stared at you, "I'm really not in the mood to get rejected ( your hero name )," he ran his fingers through his hair annoyed. you shook your head, "I don't like Jinny nor does she like me. we're just really close friends Superboy," you whispered, bringing him into another kiss.

this time, he was the one taken back but he melted into the kiss, all his negative emotions washing away as you continued to kiss him. he wrapped his arms around your waist as you him in closer by the neck. Connor was definitely not expecting this tonight.

"so does this mean that we're like....together together?" you asked playfully shy. Connor let out a laugh before lacing your hands together, "clearly. I can't let Jinny steal you away from me," he jokingly replied.

+

Connor ran to the three different henchmen as his strength was to the point of killing, not caring if he died in the process. he was recklessly dodging bullets, knowing they wouldn't do anything to him. he grabbed the first man and threw him against a wall as it collapsed around him. Connor only hoping that it did enough damage to unalive him.

the second one he managed to choke him out enough to the point where he passed out but that wasn't enough for him. you were on the brink of death and if he had to see you die, he was going to make sure the men who possibly killed you got what they deserved.

"SUPERBOY!" he heard his father scream again. Connor paid no attention to him as he grabbed the third henchman and slammed him to the ground, throwing punches left and right, "listen to me," Clark screamed at him.

he could see the tears coming down Connor's face as anger, fear, and sadness clouded his mind, "this is not you! pull out of it!" he yelled, shaking Connor's shoulder, "you're about to kill this man. I get that you're angry but you don't get anything out of hurting him. all you get it consequences and your girlfriend needs you right now more than ever!" he continued.

Connor finally shook himself out of his trance as he heard his dad telling him to go to you. Connor nodded and ran to you, seeing you unconscious and hardly breathing, "I'm taking her to the hospital," he yelled to Batman before hauling your body into his arms and flying towards the nearest hospital.

once he finally reached the emergency doors, he shoved everyone out of his way and to the front desk, "she needs help...NOW!" he yelled to the poor receptionist. the girl jumped up from fear but nodded and screamed for a bed and a few doctors.

the doctor asked Connor to place you on the bed before the doctor told him that he could follow them inside. a part of Connor wanted to straight up move the doctor to follow you into the OR but he knew that he'd get into more trouble with his dad and the MPD if he hurt anyone else.

for what felt like hours, he was waiting inside of the room they had told him you'd be in once you got out of surgery. he had already gotten the lecture from his dad about the consequences he would've gotten if he actually managed to kill the three men earlier.

"she's going to make it," the doctor told Connor as he walked into the room while they adjusted you to the bed. Connor nodded, "she'll be out of duty for months. she sustained a lot of injuries to her body that'll take weeks to recover and she got a nasty concussion so you'll need to play doctor for the next few weeks to make sure she's okay," he explained.

Connor nodded as the doctor told him that you should be waking up within the next few hours. Connor adjusted himself on the seat and got comfortable as he had no intentions of leaving your side until you were awake and ready to leave the hospital.

you woke up a few hours later, your body killing you from all over as you saw balloons all around the room. you knew you had landed in the hospital but you had no idea how long you were asleep or in a coma even. you turned to see Connor passed out next to you, his body slumped awkwardly.

"Kon, Kon wake up!" you whispered, shaking him softly. Connor jumped up in a fright as he immediately realized you were awake, "how do you feel? are you okay? do you need anything?" he immediately asked as you couldn't help but laugh at his frantic attitude.

"Connor, I'm okay, I promise," you whispered as you brought him in for a kiss, "my body just hurts and i'm still kinda tired," you murmured as Connor nodded. you managed to wiggle yourself enough to make space for him, "babe, it looks like you haven't slept in days."

"I had to make sure you were okay so i haven't exactly slept in a while," he admitted sheepishly. you shook your head, "you're too much sometimes," you giggled as you put your head on his shoulder, "but you love me regardless," he replied.

this was the first time the L word had came up in the relationship, "yeah, I guess I do but now you need to sleep," you said as you closed your eyes and felt Connor pull you closer to him, "I love you too by the way," you whispered, giving him another kiss on his partially exposed chest.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Lazy Morning Intimacy

So, who’s ready for an extra long serving of shameless fluff from the first draft of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings & Always? My philosophy in writing this is if I can add some more fluffy cuddly moments, I absolutely will, and the Step 3 moment Reflection offers one such opportunity right at the very start before, well, those of you who have played this moment know what happens later.

Spoilers for those who have not played the Step 3 DLC! If you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read any further! If you don’t mind spoilery stuff, well, don’t let me stop you, but I highly, highly encourage you to play through the game before reading any of this.

As always, thanks go to @gb-patch for their wonderful game and their lovely feedback for my work, as well as everyone who likes, reblogs, and comments on these clips I’m posting here. You are all awesome.  💖

...

It wasn’t often that Jamie had the chance to enjoy breakfast at the Holden house. Ever since their parents decreed that they were ‘too old’ for sleepovers, she and Cove didn’t have many opportunities to enjoy that particular meal together, which made today a rare treat. It wasn’t especially fancy fare, but it was lovely to be able to spend time with her boyfriend almost as soon as she woke up. She was glad she impulsively asked if he wanted to have breakfast with her when they exchanged their usual good morning texts.

After a pleasant meal filled with light conversation and tasty food, Cove invited Jamie to retreat to his room to relax and let the lazy morning linger before any big activities began. That was, if they didn’t just decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. Neither of them had any plans in particular, with no prior commitments with friends, family, or work to distract them from just spending the day together. It wasn’t officially a date day, per say, or at least neither of them called it that yet. So far, they just decided to do whatever came to mind while enjoying each other’s company.

Of course, the first thing that came to Jamie’s mind was to cuddle with her boyfriend. When Cove sat down onto the bed, she didn’t hesitate to take a seat beside him, leaning into him. He hummed happily in approval and looped an arm around her to pull her in even closer.

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as a new thought came to mind, and Jamie leaned in even closer. Cove raised an eyebrow at expression, only to yelp when she unexpectedly pushed her weight into him and tipped him back onto the bed. She fell along with him, giggling as they tumbled onto the mattress

Cove let out a chuckle of his own once he recovered from his surprise. “When I said we could relax, I didn’t mean going back to bed,” he said with a wry smile. Even still, he allowed her to nudge him gently back to the headboard so that they could both lounge comfortably on the bed properly with their heads resting on the pillows side by side. 

Jamie flashed Cove a satisfied grin before she snuggled up against his side, nuzzling her cheek against his as she basked in his gentle warmth. “You also said to make myself comfortable,” she teased, her eyes sparkling playfully as she rested her arm across his chest. “I’m very comfortable like this.”

Cove felt his heartbeat quicken, and he smiled back fondly at Jamie, nuzzling her cheek in return. “Me too,” he said softly.

Though maybe he was a little too comfortable.

Cove couldn’t help but be aware of the fact that they were both lying in his bed together. A prickling of nerves rose up that he quickly did his best to tamp down to not ruin the intimate moment they were sharing. It was fine, no big deal, he told himself. They were both fully dressed, on top of the sheets, and it was broad daylight. They cuddled plenty of times like this before on sofas and the ground. Heck, this was nothing compared to when they shared a bed when they were younger.

The flickering of nervousness didn’t escape Jamie’s notice. She softened her expression and reached up to gently run her fingers through her shy boyfriend’s hair. She had intended to steal a kiss or two and see where that would take them, but she decided that could wait until later. Just enjoying this moment with Cove was enough for her.

The touch was soothing, and Cove slowly started to relax as he leaned into Jamie. The anxious air that had threatened to pull him out of the moment gradually dissipated as her comforting warmth slowly settled in. Soon, he felt at ease enough to slip his arm back around her, which she happily used as her new pillow. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing the content expression on his partner’s face as she smiled softly back at him.

A comfortable silence washed over the pair as they simply enjoyed the quiet moment of intimacy. At some point, Jamie went from stroking Cove’s hair to toying with it. His ponytail limited her in how much she could card her fingers through his hair, but there were plenty of long locks to ripple between her fingers.

It wasn’t the first time Jamie got the impulse to play with her boyfriend’s hair. Even before he was officially - or even unofficially - her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but want to run her fingers through those pretty pale green strands. When they were younger, Cove would jokingly try to avoid her hands, but always ‘failed’ to escape in the end, allowing her to have her way. Sometimes she teased him back by pretending to give up, and he would always pout adorably, which she would immediately chase away with a satisfying ruffle of his hair.

Occasionally, Jamie would go beyond playing to actual styling. She was no professional, but it was fun to wind her boyfriend’s hair into a braid or two sometimes. Cove never minded, even if the braids rarely lasted that long after she was finished making them. It also didn’t escape her notice that he would sometimes shiver or let out an adorable pleasured little mumble when she raked her fingers along his scalp. It was an enjoyable experience for both of them, and sometimes she suspected that was one of the reasons why he let his hair grow as long as he did.

Jamie had no such grand designs now. Today she simply basked in the freedom to enjoy the feeling of his soft hair sliding between her fingers as she listened to the happy noises her partner occasionally let slip.

Although much more at ease, Cove couldn’t help the small traces of nervous energy that left him with the need to do something with his hands. He ran his thumb across her shoulder with the hand that was limited by Jamie resting on the upper part of his arm. With his freer hand, he decided to return the favor she paid to him and ran his fingers through her long deep blue hair, starting with stroking back her bangs before sliding his hand down along the entire length of her hair until he reached the ends at her hips. The feeling was soft and silky, and she sighed softly at the attention.

On impulse, Cove poked one of the small buns on top of his girlfriend’s head. Space buns were her preferred hairstyle of choice nowadays, and there was something satisfying about poking them that he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the feel of them, or the way the bunched up hair bounced when poked that did it, but most likely it was because of the amused looks Jamie gave him whenever he did. She wore one such expression now, and he couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before giving her bun another playful poke.

Entertained, Jamie let Cove have her way with her buns, poking and prodding them as he pleased. The potential for innuendo wasn’t lost on her, but she let it go unsaid. As fun as it would be to make him flustered by suggesting that he might enjoy playing with a different set of buns she had even more, she didn’t want to interrupt the light, playful moment.

Jamie would just save that little bit of wordplay for later, preferably when the mood was good enough that Cove might take her up on the invitation.

Despite the steamy thoughts that skirted through her mind, Jamie did her best to focus on enjoying the lazy moment between them. It was lovely to just share such casual intimacy with Cove.

Jamie wasn’t alone in trying to ignore her more hormonal urges. As much as Cove enjoyed playing with her hair, focusing on touching her as he did made it impossible for him to stop thinking about the fact that they were both lying on his bed together. He was keenly aware of the gentle warmth of her body pressed against him, how soft and inviting her pink lips looked as she smiled at him.

Eventually, Cove realized he needed something else to occupy his hands if he didn’t want to risk disrupting the peaceful moment. Shifting about a bit, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Although Jamie raised an eyebrow at that and at being displaced from her cozy spot when he moved around, she held no objections as he turned his phone on and busied himself with it. Instead, she simply readjusted her position to get comfortable once he was settled again.

Sifting through missed texts and emails, Cove soon managed to distract himself from the urges that ruffled his nerves and relaxed back into the moment. He spotted a number of texts he missed from his dad, and for a moment he wondered if everything was okay until he realized Cliff just sent him a bunch of images last night.

A warm smile graced his face as Cove slowly scrolled his way through the photographs, nostalgia washing over him. Each photo brought him back to the moment it was taken, allowing him to lose himself in the priceless memories he shared with his friends, family, and especially the special person he held so comfortably close at that very moment.

Some photos brought back sweet memories, others a little more on the bitter side of sweet, and then there were the funnier ones. One such silly photo seized Cove’s attention, and he couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him.

The sound immediately snapped Jamie out of her relaxed stupor and brought her back to the present. She raised an eyebrow at Cove, but he failed to notice her questioning look, too preoccupied by whatever was on his phone’s screen.

“What’s so funny?” Jamie asked as she propped herself up on her arm to get a better look at his face and catch a glimpse of the phone’s screen.

Cove finally turned to look at Jamie, his eyes crinkled with mirth and a smirk playing on his lips. “Dad scanned some old photos,” he chuckled. “You know…”

Now that Jamie was no longer using his arm as a pillow, Cove was free to use it to draw a rectangle in the air. “Printed out ones,” he explained, “back from when I was little.” He waved his phone a bit with his other hand. “He texted it all to me last night, I guess. I’ve been checking them out.”

Jamie sat up completely, her dark blue eyes flying open wide. “You were looking at your kiddie photos and didn’t tell me?!” she gasped, almost scandalized at missing out on something so priceless.

Cove barely resisted the urge to chuckle, offering Jamie a bent smile as his eyes narrowed playfully. “I was gonna show you.” His gaze then slid away to his phone as his expression turned a little more hesitant. “I just wanted to look at it first to make sure there was nothing super embarrassing. You never know with my dad.”

His mouth pulled into a grimace as Cove could easily imagine all sorts of horrors his dad might have captured on film to unintentionally humiliate him until the end of time. “I mean… what if there’s a photo of me getting potty trained or something?”

Although Jamie empathized with his worries, she couldn’t help but giggle at the fraught expression Cove wore. “Yeah, that sounds like something your dad would do.”

Cove could only respond by clearing his throat nervously, his eyes skirting away from Jamie as he sat up as well. While he hadn’t come across any particularly humiliating photo of himself, he couldn’t quite shake the fear of what his dad’s well-meaning actions might have left for him to deal with this time.

Jamie offered her boyfriend a sympathetic smile before adding a slight bent to it. “Hey, how about this - if you let me look at your embarrassing baby photos, I’ll show you just as many of mine. My moms have plenty of them.”

The offer was tempting. Cove couldn’t help but wonder what sort of photos Jamie had in mind, but the price was just too steep. He merely chuckled awkwardly and shook his head as he pointedly kept his phone tilted away from her. She huffed and puffed out her cheeks in a mock pout at him for holding out on her, which elicited a genuine bout of laughter from him.

Once Cove got his mirth under control, he smiled at Jamie. “Anyway, before we forget, I was laughing ‘cause I came across a Halloween one from when I was eight. The year I was a zombie, remember?”

Jamie dropped her faux pout and nodded, her eyes lighting up eagerly. Cove shook his head at her excitement, a wry grin gracing his face as he finally offered the phone to her.

As Cove watched Jamie eagerly turn to his phone, he couldn’t help but shake his head again, this time at his kid self. “I never even liked zombies!” he said, a little baffled that he ever was so enthusiastic for such a costume. “All I wanted was to show off my new scar. And I needed to be something scary. I couldn’t be a normal person who had a scar, according to my eight-year-old mind.”

The photo displayed on the screen showed Cove from ten years in the past, and a pleasant wave of nostalgia washed over Jamie as she saw him the way he looked when they first met, minus the pink cast and plus a fair amount of makeup and fake blood. Little Cove posed for the camera with his fingers hooked like claws, his mouth open as though letting out what was probably supposed to be a fierce roar. She could easily remember the noises he made that night as he pretended to be a zombie on the hunt for brains. His hair looked even more wild and disheveled than it did after the most energetic day of play, going well with the tattered and ‘blood’ stained button up shirt he wore. His face was painted in gray down to his neck, marred with an array of fake scars that couldn’t compare to the real one on his arm.

Cove looked from Jamie to the phone and chuckled softly at the face his younger self pulled for the camera. “I was a little dork.”

Jamie eyed Cove at such self-depreciation before poking him on the nose. “You were a little cutie,” she insisted. “And now you’re a big cutie.”

Cove blinked at the playful action before blushing at the compliment. He had no words to reply to it except for a quiet, flustered chuckle as he rubbed his nose.

Jamie grinned at that reaction before turning back to the photo. As much as she enjoyed how adorable Cove looked while pretending to be a fierce monster, it was impossible to ignore the scar displayed so predominantly on his arm at that time. Her smile softened at the edges at the sight of such a large, jagged line of fresh skin that was such a deep and angry shade of red. The scar was a pale memory in the present, but back then it looked so painful, and at the time she found it hard not to worry about him and his comfort after his cast came off.

Still, Jamie refused to let that put a damper on the story and focused instead on just how much fun little Cove was having posing for the camera and remembering the way they played around with their costumes that night. She could vividly recall how she pretended to run away from him when he playfully growled that he wanted to eat her brains, and the memory made her smile grow stronger.

“Dad really wanted to be useful, as usual,” Cove said, bringing Jamie’s attention back to him in the present. Though he noticed the flicker of sadness that crossed her face and realized the reason for it, he was glad to see her perk up again just as quickly. “He came up with the idea of being an undead person. It was pretty good, huh?”

Jamie chuckled softly and nodded. “You had the best Halloween costume that year, hands down,” she said playfully. “I remember you getting lots of extra candy when adults realized the scar was real.” Her smile widened as she remembered just how jealous Lizzie had been at how much candy Cove got that year, especially since he only offered to share some of that extra candy with Jamie. “It must have been your greatest Halloween haul ever.”

Cove couldn’t help but chuckle as well as he thought back to that legendary candy haul as well. It took him a month to finish it all even with Jamie’s help.

Still, the topic of his scar brought his gaze back to the picture. Cove couldn’t help but compare the way it looked in the photo to its current appearance on his left arm. “I can’t believe how much larger my scar used to be,” he said quietly.

Jamie watched as Cove turned his focus to his arm with a soft smile on his face. He traced his fingers along the jagged line of pale flesh that remained with him even ten years on. It was an action that she had seen him do countless times, but it felt more significant in that moment.

A soft sigh escaped Cove, but his eyes and tone were playful. “Look at how tiny it is now.” He gave Jamie a look with big, pathetic eyes. “How am I gonna pretend to be tough without a big scar?”

It was a struggle for Jamie not to laugh at the expression Cove wore. “You better not do anything stupid to get a new scar,” she joked with a faux disapproving frown as she wagged a finger at him. “No matter how much you like them!”

Cove grinned back at Jamie. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Jamie said with a satisfied nod. “You’ve already got the coolest scar, no matter how small it gets.”

Cove felt his cheeks grow warm and his smile turned bashful. “Thanks.” He ducked his head away from Jamie, pleased with their joking exchange. Once again, his eyes drifted down to his scar as he continued to trace it.

“I really do like having this,” he admitted in a soft, shy voice. “Even if it is kind of little these days.”

Jamie’s expression softened as well, feeling as though Cove was sharing a big secret with her. She couldn’t help but feel happy to hear that he liked his scar despite whatever pain it must have caused him to get it. It was always wonderful whenever he opened up to her like this.

Cove glanced up at Jamie, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I like yours, too.”

The unexpected compliment caught Jamie off guard, and heat rose in her cheeks, turning them pink. She couldn’t help but smile as she felt her chest flutter with butterflies. He never failed to think of her as well, especially since he knew that she was self-conscious of her own scars.

Unthinkingly, Jamie brought her hand up to her upper arm and traced some of the countless jagged little white lines that marred her pale skin. There were matching scars in the same place on her other arm, as well as her thighs and her chest. Unlike Cove, these scars were not the result of an accident, but her skin not being able to keep up with her sudden growth during puberty.

Back during her early teenage years when the stretch marks were fresh and an angry purplish-red, Jamie always kept them hidden. Puberty had been rough on her, dealing a blow to her self-esteem as well as her body, and being covered in so many scars left her feeling ugly even though she never once thought of Cove’s scar like that.

It took time for Jamie to accept her scars, and she knew that Cove was a big part of why. Seeing the way he took such quiet pride in his scar always made her question how she thought of hers. More than that, he always made her feel beautiful, and he was always the first to remind her  whenever she needed it. That was why she was no longer afraid to wear clothes that exposed her scars like she did now.

Jamie scooted in closer to Cove as she smiled adoringly at him, placing her hand on top of his. “Thank you, Cove.”

Cove turned back to face Jamie fully. He finally let go of his scar so that he could take her hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt at peace with his scar and was happy to see the same reflected on her face as well. Their scars held such meaning to them despite coming from unhappy sources.

Jamie squeezed his hand back as she drifted even closer. “Could I touch your scar?”

Cove blinked, taken aback by the request. Usually, Jamie wasn’t shy about touching him without asking first, particularly someplace as innocent as his arm. Still, he quickly realized why she might hesitate to do that now and smiled gently at her as he nodded easily. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Jamie gave Cove’s hand one more squeeze before letting go of it. Lightly, she pressed her fingertips against the edges of his scar. With great care, she slowly ran her thumb along the entire length of it, following the jagged angles the old wound took. The pale flesh was rough when compared to the rest of his skin, which was soft, but with goosebumps rising quickly along his arm as she stroked his scar.

The touch, so delicate and gentle, left Cove feeling a bit lightheaded. Jamie’s touch always felt wonderful and often left him feeling butterflies, but somehow the feel of her paying such careful attention to his scar was particularly powerful. A choked breath escaped him and a wobbly smile played across his face as he lost himself in the feeling.

The dizzied smile Cove wore along with the light pink of his cheeks drew Jamie in with the urge to do more. She locked eyes with him, staring deep into his aquamarine eyes as she took a hold of his arm and raised it up towards her.

A quiet gasp escaped Cove when she realized what Jamie had in mind. He couldn’t look away from her dark blue eyes as she stared so intently into him even as she placed a soft kiss on the old wound that marked him. The feeling of her lips, warm and soft, pressed so tenderly against that particular place sent shivers up his spine, and he let out a tiny squeak.

Jamie smiled against Cove’s skin as she appreciated his adorable reaction, as well as the way he looked at her with overwhelming adoration. She kissed him again and again, tracing the entire length of his scar with her lips like she did with her fingers before.

It was impossible for Cove to stay still when Jamie was showing him such affection. He reached up with his free hand to touch her arm. With his thumb, he brushed aside the edge of her open sleeve, giving him better access to the countless little white lines marking her pale skin. The texture was interesting, feeling so similar yet so different from his own scar. Because of their size and number, he found his fingers constantly alternating between soft skin and rougher tissue. It was difficult to trace any one scar from start to finish like she did for him, so instead he sought out to touch every single one.

The touch was electric, and Jamie could feel her heartbeat speed up as Cove caressed her so lovingly. “Cove…”

Cove shivered again as Jamie murmured his name against his skin, setting off sparks that made his body burn pleasantly. It urged him to lean forward, his eyes gleaming with the fire she set ablaze inside him.

Jamie raised her head and instinctively matched his movement, drawing nearer to Cove as her eyes drifted closed. She felt his lips gently meet hers, and she melted into the tender kiss. She held a little more firmly onto his arm as she fell deeper into him, feeling like she might drown in the depths of her feelings for him.

Cove all too quickly lost himself in the moment and in Jamie. It felt so wonderful, so right to be her like this, to touch and kiss her. He loved her so much that it was almost overwhelming, but knowing that she loved him as well kept him grounded.

Eventually they finally drifted apart, breathless and dazed from the kiss, their faces flushed with heat. When Jamie opened her eyes, she saw Cove gazing back at her with his mesmerizing ocean blue eyes. The look he gave her was spellbinding, filled with so much love and adoration that made her heart hammer hard against her ribcage. It told her without words that the feelings he had for her were just as immense as hers were for him.

Cove leaned in again, this time resting his forehead gently against Jamie’s. With heavy lidded eyes, he simply enjoyed gazing deeply into her blue eyes that always reminded him of the night sky. No matter how many times he saw them, they always captivated him. He could lose himself in those beautiful eyes of hers.

The feeling of his warm breath tickling her skin made Jamie shiver a little, especially the way it brushed against her lips like the ghost of a kiss. With their heads touching, his hand on her arm and hers on his, she felt entirely entwined with Cove. It felt so right.

Time ceased to have any meaning in that moment as they gazed deeply into their partner’s eyes and drank in the closeness and warmth they shared. Seconds or minutes might have passed, but neither of them cared as they lost themselves in each other.

[honeylikewords]

jack daniels ship questions!

(Remember that ship questions prompt list I posted a while back? Here are all of those prompts, filled out for Jack and his wife! Hope you guys enjoy! Content Warnings: Not much to speak of, but some mentions of conceptual peril, Jack’s latent PSTD-linked behaviors, pregnancy. Word count is 6.8k. )

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

There are plenty of good options for this, but I prefer to imagine that Jack and his future wife met at work; the New York Statesman office is a functioning business, after all, and would therefore hold many people in its employ. Though Jack may be deployed to the field every now and then, he’s actually used surprisingly sparingly, and spends a great deal of his time actually working at the New York headquarters at a very real job as a chairman of the board for the company. His future wife worked on the same floor of the building in marketing, and the two of them crossed paths often, both in corporate meetings and just out and about in the halls of the building. 

What was their first impression of each other?

Jack immediately was drawn to her after hearing her speak up during a meeting; she’d been sent in as one of the marketing presenters and had a wonderful breadth of ideas for the company, and he was charmed by her warm presence, intelligent voice, and sweet manner. His first impression was deeply positive, and he spent the rest of the meeting eyeing her curiously, his tanned cheeks flushed with pleasure at being able to watch her shift her files around and toy with her hair as she listened to other speakers and nodded along: she was very, very pretty in exactly his kind of way, and he liked that very, very much.

Her first impression of him was, contrastingly, rather fearful; she knew him only as “Mister Daniels”, and had only heard of him through memos and word of mouth around the office. When she was called in to speak to some of the board members, she was petrified with anxiety at the idea of slipping up in front of such important people and, in fact, barely noticed Jack the first time they shared a boardroom: she was so nervous about getting everything right and speaking clearly and conveying the correct information that he sort of blurred with all the other execs and suits. That said, she did notice him watching her throughout the meeting, and any time their eyes met (and he often smiled at her when they did), she became acutely aware of just how handsome he was; his features striking, his mannerisms coolly lackadaisical, his posture wide and relaxed, his deep brown eyes smoldering under a firm brow as he flashed her a sharp smile. No wonder his name flew around the office so much.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Nobody really knew, frankly: Jack has no family to speak of, and not that many friends, either. For someone so charming and socially adept, Jack is surprisingly something of a loner, and tells very few people anything about himself, much less about his feelings or attachments. Literally nobody knew that he was developing feelings for her, much less was intent on pursuing those feelings and manifesting them into a relationship, and he liked the privacy of that.

Likewise, she didn’t mention her growing infatuation with him to anyone, particularly because it would be so embarrassing: if word got out around the office that she was making eyes at a higher-up, it’d seem deeply unprofessional. Besides, she wasn’t really close friends with anyone at the office and they didn’t need to know, especially when she believed that her feelings couldn’t possibly be returned. 

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Jack. He may not seem like the type, but when he falls in love, it hits him like a train: hard, fast, and unforgiving. It knocked him off his feet and flat onto his ass, and he didn’t mind a bit. The only hard part was keeping it a secret from her for so long!

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Big time. Jack felt it would be inappropriate to make a pass at her at all-- his gentlemanly nature insisted he was only to subtly imply his feelings for her, but otherwise treat her with ladylike gentleness and cordiality-- especially when he did hold some sway in the office, and that could be misinterpreted as, well, something unsavory. He tried hard to push the feelings down, to make them quieter and less intrusive, but he couldn’t help growing more and more attached to her, particularly when they ended up spending more and more time together as coworkers. Every new side of her that he saw made him fall more hopelessly off the steep cliff’s edge of adoration, and he barely had the willpower to hold on to propriety. Still, he did his damnedest! 

Similarly, she resisted a great deal; how embarrassing would it be for her to try and flirt with a man so far out of her league, and so far up the ladder from her rung? It’d kill her, socially and in terms of her career, to make a faux pas like that, so she kept the feelings bottled up deep, deep inside herself. Still, whenever he smiled at her or went out of his way to be so intoxicatingly gentlemanly towards her, she found herself swooning; sure, maybe he treats all the girls like this. Maybe he’s just a well-raised man. But she still couldn’t resist the inkling that, maybe, just maybe, he was particularly fond of her; even if it was just a girlish fantasy, it made her heart race to imagine him harboring some secret affection for her, and, as she would later find out, that fantasy ended up being more than a little factual.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Jack is a sucker for the idea of soulmates. He fully believes in commitments of the heart, body and soul, and would be utterly unsurprised to know that the woman he’d given his heart to so wholly was his soulmate. He may talk a lot of big game and posture all the live-long day about pleasing women and seeing “the whole doughnut”, but that’s just pretense: Jack’s a one-woman man, and he’s happy to pledge himself as her soulmate. More than happy.

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Jack, presumably, would have continued his work without ever knowing there was something missing, but would be distinctly less engaged in the office, sharply unhappy, and would have been more inclined towards keeping himself busy with field work. He would have closed off even further from attachments and affection and continued in his hollowed state, scraped clean of any remnants of the possibility for love, and would have, likely, kept running missions until his luck ran out. A dark ending to a cold story.

Her life would be entirely up to her, ready for any path she might be inclined to follow, though she would never know the joy of being treated with such respect and love as Jack treats her with, and she would never meet a man so gentlemanly, so adoring, nor so intensely loyal. Perhaps she would meet someone else she could love just as much as she would have loved Jack, but her life would be a painting lacking  the warm hues of Jack’s mirth, love, and tenderness.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

I have a whole fic about that! But, in short, Jack did! I like to think of Jack waiting for ages and ages to find the “right” moment to tell her he had feelings for her and ask her out, and though he was petrified of making a mistake and losing her forever (and coming off like a creep), he managed to show her the sincerity of his attachment, and be granted the greatest gift of all: returned affections. She wanted to go out with him as much as he wanted to go out with her, and, from there, they melded together and the relationship progressed!

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

In that aforementioned fic, I suggest that their first date was sitting together on a long flight and watching movies together during a corporate excursion, and I like to stand by that! But if you mean first “date where they went somewhere”, after that flight, the two of them rented a car at the airport, went for breakfast at a local diner, and then took in the sights of the town before capping off the night with dinner and a movie. They ended up spending the whole day together, talking about everything and nothing, shy but ecstatic to be finally able to be open with their attraction to the other, and adored every moment of the date. It was a little awkward, at first, but they quickly matched one another’s patterns, especially towards the end of the night, cuddled up together at the theatre, resting their heads on each other and holding hands, exchanging little kisses on the hand back and forth.

It was like magic.

What was their first kiss like?

Nervous! Jack, normally so confident and slick, found himself trembling as he leaned in closer to her, hovering his lips over hers and feeling the quakes and tremors careening through every muscle of his body: all he wanted was to grab her by the face and kiss her as hard as he could and never let go, but he knew that would hardly be appropriate, so he just inched in, millimeter by millimeter, until she pressed up and closed the gap herself, sending him spiralling with fireworks behind his eyes and pure jolts of adrenaline coursing through his heart. 

He ended up accidentally deepening the kiss by leaning in and groaning through his nose-- he’d held back for so long that his body wanted to take everything it could get before it lost its chance-- and felt her hands rise to cup the back of his head, locking him into her, which made his legs turn into jelly and his eyes roll back in their sockets in delight.

Suffice to say, they were out of breath when they parted, and not just from holding their breaths during the kiss.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

Well, she wasn’t Jack’s first kiss, nor his first girlfriend, but she is definitely Jack’s first and only love of his life. And his first and only wife! As for the other way ‘round, Jack is his wife’s first long-term boyfriend, then her first and only husband, and, of course, the one and only (and thus first) true love. Ain’t that sweet?

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Jack comes in at 5’11’’, 6’1’’ in certain sets of cowboy boots, and often likes that his wife is just short enough for him to comfortably rest his chin on top of her head during hugs. As for their age difference, Jack wouldn’t be at ease with anything more than a ten year age gap, and even that’s pushing it, so his wife is somewhere in that range. While age may be “just a number” to some, development isn’t, so he isn’t looking for a woman who isn’t at the same point in life he is. He wants to always be in sync with his missus, so being close in age and close in life plans is important to him.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Jack has no real family; his parents both passed on a while back and he was an only child. He’s charming and affable with his wife’s family, but gets surprisingly nervous at family events and prefers to keep to himself: frankly, he’d rather spend all their holidays alone at home with the missus than be around her parents or siblings. 

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Jack. His savoir-faire attitude, pleasing manners and general suave presence makes him a natural fit for taking the lead in just about every situation, but especially when out and about; his wife leans more on the quiet side, and he’s fine doing the talking towards others for the both of them. He’s fine ordering for her at restaurants, fine handling chit chat with drivers or dinner guests, fine charming businessmen or clients. He’s happy to be her voice when she doesn’t feel like talking, and happy to be the conversational springboard for her when she wants to make a foray into it. 

Who gets jealous easier?

Jack has a shockingly vicious mean streak in him, and he can border on being possessive, at times. Sometimes it’s sweet how much he cares and how protective he is over her, but jealousy is a wholly different beast; when Jack feels like someone is flirting with his wife or has caught her eye, something hardhearted and controlling in him claws its way to the surface in him, and he looks at the object of her imagined affections with nothing but pure, boiling hatred. 

For example, he can get more than a little insecure if he thinks she’s staring too closely at a particularly attractive actor during a movie-- does she think that man has a better body than him? Does she like that man because he’s younger? Prettier? Has a smaller nose and brighter eyes? Fewer wrinkles?-- and ends up hating the actor in every subsequent movie, even going so far as to refuse to watch films with that person in them. 

He also can be more than a little rude to other men in public, but in a backhanded, “disguised” way, his cruelties and biting remarks hidden under a balmy layer of “Southern kindness”. Once, at a coffee shop, a barista gave his wife an extra baked good for being “the cutest customer he’d seen all day”, and Jack grabbed the pastry, smiled toothily at the man, and remarked that the barista had “good taste, though you wouldn’t guess it”, pointedly looked the man up and down as if judging his apparel, then took his wife’s hand and left the shop in a cloud of bitterness.

She’d really let Jack have it after that one.

Inversely, Jack’s wife can be more than a little guilty of jealousy, herself; after all, she knows her husband is a very, very attractive man, and that more than a few women find him alluring-- she’s heard how other women talk about him at the office-- and upon finding out that some of his field work can involve seducing women for information, she was in a near-constant jealousy tizzy for weeks. He’d had to promise her that he wouldn’t ever allow the seduction to be more than flirting, and even sworn to her that he would turn down operations where such a means of extraction was baked into the plan, but the feeling lingers, burning sour in her stomach whenever she knows he’s deployed. Is he out there, somewhere, flirting with some floozy, whispering things in that woman’s ear that he once whispered in hers?

It takes Jack eons to assure her that all his affection for her is earnest and passionate and that he never once used “the moves” on her that he might use for a mission, but every now and then, she still gets frustrated at the idea of him being coy with other women and he’ll have to take her aside and show her just how special their love is to him.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Mister Daniels. What he whispers is a secret between himself and the missus, but rest assured knowing that he likes to spare her no detail when elaborating on what exactly it is he’s thinking about when it comes to her.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

Jack wanted to say it first so, so bad: he had a whole moment planned out, where they’d be on a night drive, parked in his truck, watching the stars, and he’d have beautiful music in the background as they lay in the flatbed, and he’d turn to her and say those three words, sweeping her off her feet, but… she beat him to it.

She’d come down with a horrible cold, one that left her practically bedridden, and he’d come over in a panic, carrying bags of medicine and ointments and cool patches and Gatorades and soup from the best deli in town, and he’d spent the entire rest of the evening taking care of her. After propping her up on her pillows, putting on a calming movie, throwing out all her used tissues, getting her changed into clean, comfy pajamas, and feeding her warm soup and cool drinks, she was drifting off to sleep. Jack was getting ready to spend the night sleeping on the couch, and just before he left, she tugged him by the hand, looking up at him with cold medicine-calmed eyes. Dreamily, she stroked his cheek and hummed a soft “thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, kissing her knuckles. “Get some sleep, alright, Princess?”

“Mmm,” she cooed. “Goodnight, bunnykins. I love you.”

And with that, her medicine kicked in, and she dozed off, leaving Jack floating on air, hovering by her bed, staring with utter adoration at this sleeping angel who… loved him. 

Loved him.

He barely slept that night, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to fight off the silly, creeping smiles of a boy in love.

What are their primary love languages?

For Jack, he feels the most loved when he receives physical affection and is able to spend quality time with his wife. He has a deep attachment to her and feels that it’s best expressed when they’re able to touch each other; he adores being hugged by her, feeling her kiss his whole face, the way her hands playfully squeeze his butt when he wears those jeans she loves, the sensation of her fingers in his hair, tracing down his jawline and throat. Any time she’s touching him, he feels his life is complete and full, and when they’re apart, he feels fuzzy around the edges, as if only she can bring the whole picture into focus for him.

Add to that the enjoyment of quality time: Jack loves being able to spend days on end in only her company, doing anything she wants, talking back and forth and just absorbing the pleasure of being in her presence. He especially enjoys working on something together, like learning to dance together or building something (he, somehow, fell even more in love with her as they built a bookshelf together for their new, shared apartment), and, of course, traveling with her for trips and vacations. Once, they were snowed in together during a stay in Oregon, and he spent the whole three days of the snow-in just following her around the cabin like a lovesick puppy. They ended up sitting together on the couch in front of the fire, her perched on his lap, he with his arms fettered around her tummy, watching YouTube videos on resin pouring for, like, ten hours. He loved it.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

“Well, excuse me, miss, but there seems to be something wrong with my phone--”

“Jack, no, don’t--”

“Because I seem not to have your number in it!”

“Oh my god.”

“Did I wander on in to the Louvre? Because my, oh my, I am staring at a true work of art, little lady.”

“Jack, please--”

“Lemme go get my glasses on, beautiful; you’re too fine for me to see without ‘em.”

“I’m going to lock you out of the bedroom if you keep this up--”

“Now, sugar, come on, can you blame me? I’m in such terrible pain!”

“Mhm.”

“Because it sure hurt when I fell for you!”

“OH MY GOD.”

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Every single day that Jack’s home, they’re cuddling in bed at the end of the day. He can’t sleep unless he’s got her in his arms, and he just can’t help but be a little handsy; he’s a lover of touch, after all! As for PDA, Jack tries to keep public affection “tasteful”, but also lets a little of his possessive nature pull through, at times: he likes to “mark” what’s his, and she’s his, all the way, so he likes to walk with his hand on the small of her back, sometimes cheekily stuck in the back pocket of her pants to get a feel of the nice curves back there, or periodically lean down to kiss her cheek and see if she’s interested in a more full-on kiss. At the office, they keep it limited to the occasional kiss on the cheek when there’s fewer people around, though that’s not to say Jack hasn’t teased the idea of going for something more intimate at work, before.

Who initiates kisses?

Both of them! They’re a very affectionate couple, but out of the two of them, Jack can be the most forward when it comes to making his intent to be kissed known. He has no shame about taking her chin in his hand and leaning in for a nice, deep kiss, or in pulling her by the waist away from whatever she was working, planting a wet one on her. Jack loves to feel her smile against his lips, and he’ll take just about any opportunity he can to snag a kiss from her. On her end, she loves to walk past him and press little kisses on his temples, cheeks, or the top of his head (provided he’s sitting down!), and will often try to walk off and continue what she was doing, only for Jack to grab her by the hips and tug her back for an even bigger kiss. He claims she “tempted him” into doing it; after all, a little kiss like that is more of an appetizer for the greater meal, is it not?

Who’s the big and little spoon?

They sometimes alternate, but more often than not like to go back to their favorite position, with Jack (and all his long limbs) as the big spoon, curled around his wife, resting his chin on his plumpness, pressed up against her. That said, he also adores feeling her softness surround him as she holds him from behind, all warm and cuddly. It makes him feel loved and cared for, and he melts for it.

What are their favorite things to do together?

Both of them enjoy exploring the town together: walking around the city, trying new restaurants, strolling in the park, window shopping, going to museums, anything! They like to walk and talk, discuss what they’re seeing, things going on in their lives, or what they’re hoping to do, next. They love trying new foods together, especially when it’s something unusual to them or something they’ve never heard of before. They also love to go to the movies together, and take great pleasure in reviewing films together or just canoodling in the theatre seats. Hell, sometimes Jack doesn’t even watch the movie: he spends all 90-some minutes with his face pressed into her neck, giving her hickies and letting his hands wander.

They also like to snuggle up at home and watch television, with Jack’s indulgences being cooking competition shows and dancing shows. He also has a secret indulgence: RuPaul’s Drag Race. He knows it’s trashy, he knows it’s staged, and he knows it can be, well, problematic at times, but damn, if he doesn’t get a kick out of how some of those queens fight! His wife will watch with him, even if it’s not her style, just because it’s cute to watch him gasp when one queen throws a drink at another or hear him complain that a queen is underdressed for the challenge. Watching Jack is ten times better than any entertainment the show itself could provide her!

Who’s better at comforting the other?

Both of them are actually pretty emotionally intuitive people, and Jack is deeply sentimental and emotionally intelligent, so it naturally follows that he can comfort her and show her all the examples of his love and protection when she feels low and fragile. Inversely, his wife knows him, and all his broken pieces, and is able to wrap her arms around him and tell him just what he needs to hear: the truth. That she loves him, that she’ll never give up on him, that she’s always by his side, and that they’ll weather any storm together. That he isn’t irreparable, unlovable, alone.

They both take great comfort in one another, and many couples envy their emotional honesty and how much they genuinely do care for and protect each other.

Who’s more protective?

Jack; he’s constantly anxious that something horrible is going to happen to his wife. He’s seen some pretty grisly business in his line of work, and participated in more than his fair share of that kind of business, and the ghosts of those deeds float around in his head and haunt his visions, making him fearful that something dreadful will befall her, as he’s seen befall so many others before her. He gets antsy and tends to hover around her, though he pretends he doesn’t. He also feels an obligation to protect her, as the “man of the house” and her husband; he’s old-fashioned and believes it’s his job to provide for and defend her, and while the sentiment is sweet, he can be a little overbearing at times, trying to coax her into letting him handle everything for her sometimes teetering on the edge of condescension. 

She knows he’s only trying to be her gentleman, her knight in shining armor, her cowboy, but she has to assert that she’s a fully capable adult woman to him every now and then and show him that while she loves and appreciates his dedication to her safety, she’s going to be just fine, and they can work together on things, not leaving it all up to him to take care of. He’s still learning, and he can sometimes regress into old habits, but he’s made wonderful progress!

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

It’s an interesting mix of both! Jack loves to dole out praises and pet names and playful little flirts with his wife, but he’s also not afraid to get handsy with her to express his affection for her. He prefers to use both at the same time; holding her hips in his hands, swaying from side to side, murmuring teasing tones and warm whispers to her about how beautiful she is, how sweet and kind and lovely, and how she’s all his. And for as physical a man as he is, Jack feels truly loved when his wife tells him honest and earnest things she loves about him, or when she tells him he did a good job at something, and he can tell she’s sincere. It reminds him that he’s not just a body for her to love, but a soul, a person that she admires and takes comfort in. And that’s the most loving thing of all!

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

They both really love Dolly Parton, so “Islands In The Stream” comes on fairly often as one of their “dance around the living room and sing to each other” songs, as does “Why’d You Come In Here Lookin’ Like That” by Dolly! He also loves Johnny Cash, so “I’ll Remember You” is one of their favorites. Elvis’s “Love Me Tender” is one saved for special, quiet moments; it was played at their wedding, and holds a special spot in their hearts as a song to hold each other to, or murmur the lyrics to one another to show them how much they are adored. 

Similarly, they also have “When I Fall In Love” by Nat King Cole as one of their special songs: after all, they had both promised that “When I give my heart it will be completely, or I'll never give my heart,” in their own ways, so dedicated to true and loyal love, and then they found one another, and their hearts were given in totality.

There are more, but these are just a few (particularly romantic) ones!

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Jack calls his wife “Darlin’,” obviously, but also loves to use terms like “Honeycomb,” “Miss,” “Sugar,” “Little Lady,” “Babydoll,” “Princess”: heck, what doesn’t he call her? He loves using pet names for her!

She calls him “Mister Daniels,” “Cowboy,” “Baby,” and “My Big Man”, among other things.

Who remembers the little things?

Both of them! Each of them loves to keep track of special, unique things about their partner; she remembers that Jack hates acrid coffee and likes his with two sugars and two creams, or that he always puts his socks on left to right, or that he won’t leave the house until his tie is the perfect length, or that he always checks his mustache in every reflective surface he passes. He remembers that she brushes her teeth anytime she eats something that leaves the “fuzzy sweater feeling” and that she loves when he gently fingers combs her hair so much that her eyes close and she makes the same little pleased hum every time or that she only can sleep if there’s at least some cool air so she can bundle up and get snuggly.

The little things are what let you know you’re in love, you know?

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

Jack, ever the picture of the classic gentleman, absolutely takes the initiative on proposing. He makes a whole big-to do about it, planning everything down to the exact detail and sparing no expense in trying to procure the perfect moment for him to pop that perpetual question. He actually quite enjoys the planning and that enjoyment does carry over to when they’re planning the wedding itself! 

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

The wedding itself, despite Jack’s indulgences, was actually rather small: Jack doesn’t have that many people in his life he’d want to invite, so his side of the affair was rather empty, and so, in keeping, his wife decided to limit the event to just very close friends and immediate family. Both were very happy about that, being rather private people, and enjoyed being able to have an intimate wedding with a greater attention to atmosphere and personal touches than would be afforded for a much bigger wedding.

Jack had a few firm policies about the “tone” of the affair: he didn’t want a bunch of loud music, he didn’t want people getting drunk, and he wanted it to be fun but not “trashy”, a loose term he threw around at anything he didn’t really like or considered “gauche” when shopping around for wedding ideas. He also wanted to have at least part of the event take place outdoors, so the wedding ceremony was held indoors while the reception was outside, under the stars on an autumn night. 

He hired a full, live band to play the affair, and had a fair amount of fun dancing with his wife all through the night, from the traditional slow dance to up-tempo square dancing to just uncoordinated wiggling as they laughed their way into their brand-new marriage. Jack loves to dance, and having her in his arms, swaying to whatever beat life threw at them, made his heart soar.

I could go into more detail about themes and color palettes and the ceremony itself, but that’s for another day!

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

Jack wants tons of kids. He wants as many kids as nature sees fit to give them, and has absolutely no shame in expressing that desire to his wife. Thankfully, she’s on the same page: while she may not want to be pregnant every bout of nine months or so, she also wants kids and is happy to raise as many as come along over the course of her and Jack’s lifetimes; a big family does not daunt either of them. As such, their marriage became a very fruitful one as time went on, and they soon welcomed their first child, a baby girl.

Jack was absolutely, unbelievably smitten with the little creature the moment he found out his wife was pregnant, and became even more resolutely devoted to her when she was placed, wriggling and crying and all red and small, in his arms, mere moments after her birth. He’d stared at her, half-sobbing, half-laughing, as his wife gripped his hand, and both of them fell utterly, hopelessly in love with that tiny little girl as she took her first breaths.

The little family only continued to grow after that; a few years later, when their little lady had grown into a chubby, grinning toddler, she met her baby brother, a squirmy bundle of miniature limbs and his Daddy’s dark curls, who Jack swore was born knowing how to smile, giggling as soon as he felt his Daddy take him into a hug. Three years after that, another tiny Daniels came into the world, a bright-eyed and curious baby boy who seemed to only snuffle, not cry, when he was placed in his Mama’s arms that very first day, peering around with a wondering gaze that made Jack’s heart break with utmost adoration.

(There may definitely come more little babies, but I think three is a good number to start with describing!)

They’re each amazingly different, and Jack loves them all as unique souls: his daughter, Lucinda (shortened to Lucy), is playful like her father, and loves to follow him around the house and ask him what he’s up to, sometimes running off with his hat just to win his attention away from desk work or some other ‘unimportant’ task. She adores her Mama, and hangs off her mother’s every word, copying her mannerisms and asks near-constantly to help with cooking or with playing with her brothers, who she loves to play “pranks” on (translation: she raspberries their tummies, then shoots off to another room, laughing hysterically).

Their first son, Joseph, is a rowdy little whirlwind, and learned to walk quickly just to keep up with his older sister, giving chase wherever she went. He loves to toddle around the house, squeaking and cheeping, showing his Mama and Daddy what he’s doing (often putting something in his mouth that he absolutely should not be putting in there). He loves being carried by Daddy and will crawl into Jack’s lap on the couch, sitting on his knees and making faces until Daddy laughs. He absolutely loves to make people laugh, and will play games like peek-a-boo for hours, gleefully shrieking and adoring when he hears his parents laugh at his silly noises.

The littlest one, Johnnie, is the quietest of the children, and enjoys cuddling up to his Mama and Daddy and taking naps on their chest. When not sleeping, he likes to sit and watch what others are doing, and seems the happiest when resting in his carrier on the table, watching his Mama hard at work on a project, and especially enjoys watching her partake in crafts like knitting, sewing, or cooking. Johnnie also enjoys watching animal programs on TV: he cries if they play anything loud and bright for him, and calms immediately when Animal Planet or National Geographic is on. He’s barely old enough to hold his head up, but will stretch in his bassinet to see his favorite animal, horses, on TV, or if Daddy is reading a book and doing horsie noises. He loves to wiggle his miniature arms around in circles, delighted by the pony sounds, and Jack can’t help but grin at how adorable his little man is.

Do they have any pets?

Yep! Though they save getting pets until the kids are older, the family gets a pair of dogs, both adoptees from a local shelter. The bigger dog is a mutt between a lab and German Shepherd named “Messy” by Lucy, and the smaller dog is a beagle-mix named “Buster”. They’re both deeply well-loved dogs, and though Jack may have pretended to not want dogs, he dotes on the two of them relentlessly.

Who’s the stricter parent?

Jack can be paranoid, at times, about anything bad befalling his kids, and he while he tends to be relaxed and fairly easy-going with the children, he can sometimes have bouts of militaristic tenseness and scold them for going somewhere without telling him, playing in the street, talking to strangers, et cetera. He gets so nervous that sometimes it bubbles up in controlling mannerisms, trying to keep his children as safe as possible, but going about it the wrong way. That said, he is a loving father, willing to apologize if he steps out of line, and he never yells at his children.

Who worries the most?

As mentioned before, Jack can teeter into paranoia that something will hurt his babies, but his wife gives him a run for his money, at times, especially because it can be harder for mothers to be separated from their little ones at first. The truth is, all loving parents worry about their kids, and always will, and both Jack and the Missus worry about their wee ones out in the big world.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Joseph keeps trying to eat them! But it’s usually Jack, if only by default as the taller partner with the long, willowy limbs that can actually reach the corner of the wall where the damn spider is hiding.

How do they celebrate holidays?

As best they can! Mostly, they like to keep it to just the family, and don’t do any huge parties, unless it’s a birthday, especially for one of the kids: Jack tends to indulge the kids, particularly on their birthdays, so while the parties aren’t massive, they often have lots of kids and their parents come over for a big playdate and run around the house, lots of cake and balloons and party hats and presents wrapped in puppydog paper. 

As for holidays like Christmas, Hanukkah, et cetera, they like to stay home and do all the decorating themselves, and often involve the kids in the decorating process. A cozy, safe at home feeling fills all their hearts and Jack loves seeing his family all gathered together, making little ornaments or snacks together, cuddled up watching movies or playing with toys, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Ol’ Missus Daniels has the greatest track record in the world of being able to coax her early morning-riser husband back into bed, back into her arms, and back to sleep. He can’t resist her sleepy eyes and beckoning smile, the way she opens her arms and pouts at him, the rusty creak of her tired little voice cooing “c’mere, you big lug, they can wait”. He has yet to convince himself to leave her side after a ploy like that.

Who’s the better cook?

Jack is flat out terrible. He’s great at a lot of things, but cooking is not one of them. He really is doing his best to improve his cooking, but he gets frustrated with how long it takes to make a good meal; he was so used to getting exactly what he wanted at fine dining restaurants and having things delivered to his apartment as a bachelor that he barely touched any of the dishes in his kitchen, and kept his fridge almost bare. Now that he’s a family man, he really does try-- he practices alongside his wife, watches the Food Network, stuff like that-- but he ends up burning things and getting pouty, and his wife will have to take over and show him how it’s done, which he appreciates. She was always the better cook out of the two of them, anyway.

Who likes to dance?

Very often, Jack’ll click on the radio and take his wife’s waist in his hands, giving it a loving squeeze as he twirls her around the kitchen, out through the living room, sometimes at the foot of their bed, his cheek pressed to hers, grinning from ear to ear. Sometimes, the babies will want to join in; Lucy will stand on her Daddy’s feet and hold his hands, swaying all around and screaming with delight, or Johnnie will be held to Mama’s chest and bop around with her to the tune of one of his favorite songs. Joseph, much like his father, likes to boogie on down and shimmy his diapered tush around, giggling as his Daddy applauds him. They all love to dance together!

Thank you for reading! Feel free to send in any requests for similar questions!

[hopevalley]

Season 8, Episode 1: Open Season

Work was busier than expected on Monday, but the deep dive into the first episode of S8 begins now!

Scene 1: Narration, Elizabeth and Nathan, Lucas

The awkwardness between Elizabeth and Nathan was...palpable at first lol.The best part about the non-narrated part of the scene is twofold: Nathan interacting with Jack is a well-needed and very nice touch, and of course it’s always nice to see that Nathan is patient concerning Elizabeth’s situation and reassures her that she can let him know when she’s ready to go to dinner with him.

My problem with the whole thing is that...if she hasn’t spoken up about wanting that dinner date yet, and she’s not saying yes she’d like to get dinner with you now, it’s like...any sane person would assume at this point in the story that Elizabeth isn’t interested in Nathan. Worse, Nathan isn’t the kind of man who wouldn’t take a hint. I’m pretty sure this is why the opening scene felt just a little bit off. I think they ought to have let Elizabeth be a little more enthusiastic about the idea while still failing to commit to it. 

To be fair to the writers, I can’t imagine it was easy for them to figure out how to open this season after such a long time gap. They let a whole winter elapse between last season and this one. How do you explain literally no major development with the love triangle in that amount of time? Especially after the way the last season ended?

Random consideration: the camera focuses on Elizabeth’s face a lot and makes her wedding ring clearly visible.

Boom, the flashback with Lucas. I think having him leave out of jealousy was a better idea than having his mother fall ill (we’ve certainly seen that enough at this point), and maybe we should also consider the fact that while Lucas was gone, Nathan didn’t really jump on the opportunity to woo Elizabeth himself.

I wonder if we’ll get an explanation for that or not. What makes Lucas so sure that after 4+ months, Elizabeth hasn’t started courting Nathan? Maybe he kept in touch with someone in town? Or he just knows Elizabeth well enough to know she wouldn’t feel quite ready to commit in that time frame anyway?

I did really like Lucas’s opening scene with Elizabeth. Honestly, he was quite likable, here: admitting he was wrong, admitting his shortcomings, apologizing. All good things. “I’m ashamed I let my jealousy get the best of me... The worst of me.” That’s such a good line.

It didn’t feel equal in enthusiasm to the Nathan scene, but I’ll have more thoughts on that later. I do believe it was on purpose.

--

Scene 2: Clara and Jesse’s Fight, The Café

I like the concept of some marital discord for Clara and Jesse. Marriage is easier said than done and like any serious relationship, it’s a lot of consistent maintenance. It starts out pretty well, with Jesse sleeping in the other bedroom. At this point I fully expected to find out Clara kicks in her sleep or she snores a lot or something that’s funny to hear about but really difficult to actually deal with in real life. Color me disappointed later, but I’ll get to it.

--

Scene 3: The Mercantile, Ned, Florence, Carson

This just set up things with Faith’s situation so there’s not much to say, but as always I do love Florence. I hope she gets some good scenes this season. And I love Ned so I hope the same for him.

Henry coming in to mail a letter was interesting, though. I’m not sure it’ll mean anything in particular later, but...it’s possible.  Then again, maybe he’s just here to set our expectations regarding Faith’s return (of course it’s a long trip from Chicago) or Carson’s worry (a bit unreasonable unless he expected to hear from her at a specific stop).

--

Scene 4: Nathan, Dylan

Dylan is such an incredible scumbag. The spurs were a nice touch. He says things almost fondly (“She’s growing up... My little girl.”) and then wants nothing to actually do with Allie. 

The guy’s actually a pretty good actor. The way he segues into being glad for Allie’s sake that Nathan wasn’t the one killed. If the next words out of his mouth weren’t a demand for go-away money you’d almost feel those words were genuine!

--

Scene 5: Lee and Rosemary’s Return + Faith’s Return + Dylan Part Two

Lots of energy in this scene, both good and bad. I always appreciate what Lee and Rosemary bring to the show. I genuinely just don’t care that much about Faith. I’m ready to ship her with Cowboy Brett Brewer. He gets a name, which makes me wonder if he’s gonna show up again. :3

Lol at Carson’s jelly face:

I MEAN...

Not a fan of Faith’s outfit...but to be fair we’ve never really seen Faith outside of uniform. That just doesn’t strike me as something she would wear to travel in...?

Dylan approaching Jack and Jack speaking to him was so hilarious to me. “A puppy!” It’s extra funny after he looked afraid of Rosemary. Nathan intervening was undoubtedly for the best, but I can’t imagine why he would have approached Elizabeth or Jack. He doesn’t know who they are, or their connection to Nathan. Maybe too convenient. Might have been better to have him approach someone else entirely--like Opal.

--

Scene 6: Nathan and Allie

It’s great Nathan’s officializing the adoption but he had literal years to do this and only chooses now, when there’s a threat? Legally Dylan doesn’t have a leg to stand on even in that day and age (he did the abandoning in the first place + Nathan is a lawman)... It kind of ruined the cute moment for me, and I think it will come back in a bad way later.

I don’t mind Nathan’s inability to confide in Elizabeth in this situation. At this point, she doesn’t need to know, and the situation is just weird enough that he probably doesn’t think he needs to dump his own problems on her.

--

Scene 7: Carson and Faith

I’m the jerk who just chanted “BREAK UP BREAK UP BREAK UP” during this scene in my head. I just...don’t care about Faith and Carson.

--

Scene 8: Bill and The Gals

I hate that they keep retconning Bill’s ability to cook well with every passing season. In season 2 and 3 he was more than satisfactory. In S4 he made dinner for Dottie and it was really nice. Now he’s godawful and doesn’t taste his own shit before letting other people try it? Come on.

This is the kind of stuff the writing team needs to cut out of the story. It’s not funny. 

Worse, outspoken Fiona lying to Bill? I just don’t see it. At least Molly told him the truth...but I still am just SO tired of seeing this shit. It makes me think new writers only watched the last couple of seasons instead of all of them.

Also, if Bill is literally running the cafe most of the time, if he was bad at cooking, then...the place would have shut down ages ago. What they should lean into if they wanna do a cooking joke is that Bill isn’t good at creating recipes from scratch. Maybe he doesn’t have a strong sense of taste (my husband has this issue so it’s the first thing that comes to mind) so he’s likely to over-do things like spice or sugar or salt on accident. There’s also a lot of room for jokes about his “taste” in things that can come of it (women, clothes, et cetera).

--

Scene 9: Lee’s Pants

Good scene, 10/10, wouldn’t change a thing. I hope this pants thing becomes a running gag. This is the good kind of humor I want in my life. And I like that Jesse wants to emulate Lee. It’s wholesome. 

--

Scene 10: Rosemary and Clara

The ribbon as a tissue was funny, but it was just SLIGHTLY too over the top for me.

--

Scene 11: Faith and Carson Again...............

“Were you jealous of that cowboy?” I think he should be. The cowboy is better. I don’t give a damn about these characters. And I genuinely hate that the strumming is Carson’s Thing Now. At the very least we should get some Carson and Bill doing a duet together which would be cool.

It just felt like it was shilling Paul and had nothing to do with the characters.

--

Scene 12: Mmm Money

This is arguably the most interesting scene in the episode. Lucas nodded at Nathan. Nathan went to Lucas for money. Lucas didn’t need to get the scoop to find out why Nathan needed it to loan it to him. Elizabeth is officially the least interesting part of the love triangle.

They treat her like she’s such a prize to be won, but I’m starting to worry that she’s become the new Lorigail on the show.

Anyway this scene had some gay vibes and I liked them.

--

Scene 13: Rosemary and Elizabeth Catch Up

YES. GOOD SCENE. It starts off fun and it gets serious, and the transition feels really natural. “Did he have reason to be [jealous]?” I’m genuinely glad this is in the episode. It needed to be. I hope Rosemary continues to ask the hard questions.

Elizabeth needs to face either dating one of them, or dating neither of them so that everybody can get on with their lives. If you’re not that enthusiastic about either of them I’d say...maybe don’t date either of them idk.

--

Scene 14: Nathan and Bill Talk

"If he sees you with me, then...” The problem with this scene is uh...twofold, let’s say.

Issue 1: ThEN HE WILL WHAT, NATHAN? WHAT HAS HE EVER DONE BEFORE THAT WAS SO BAD if he’s not a hard criminal? Maybe an example would be useful here...?

Issue 2: The old Bill Avery would have heard “if he SEES YOU with ME” and mentally been like, “all right so it’s only bad if he SEES ME” and spied on Nathan.

Nathan wanting Bill to stay behind in case Dylan doubles back isn’t a terrible idea, but it almost comes across more like...the writers just want Nathan alone.

--

Scene 15: Oil

I like the discussion and that Hickam gets to do something. I feel like Henry is low-key advising against shooting the well, and that Lucas and Hickam will end up doing it and causing an issue. It’s just setting up for the future and it’s nice to see those kinds of scenes in the series again!

--

Scene 16: Jesse and Lee

I’d like this scene more if I felt it gave us ANY insight into the problem Jesse and Clara are having. It mostly comes across like Jesse gets home and does nothing at all until bedtime and Clara is lonely. Could have been a better scene. It’s mostly just repetitive right now.

--

Scene 17: Nathan Cancels the Date

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” Nathan’s like uhhhhh. This actually works really well to do what it’s supposed to do. By that I mean, he seems “off” so Elizabeth realizes he’s a bit stressed and leaving town = mountie business = dangerous.

I kind of wish Rosemary and Elizabeth would talk more about this, but maybe that’s coming in an episode soon...?

--

Scene 18: The Barbershop

Just a cute nice scene that shows a good friendship between Fiona, Clara, and Faith. I like this stuff. Keep it coming, Hallmark!

--

(Skipping Scene 19 because it’s just Nathan riding around...)

--

Scene 20: Lee and Rosemary Scheme

I really enjoyed this little bit where they decide to buy something for Clara and Jesse and we don’t get to see what it is. Super wholesome and very fun!

--

Scene 21: Nathan gets Ambushed

This scene was absolutely wild. Probably one of the best scenes like this that they’ve ever done. Dylan taking Nathan’s hat, “Take care of my little girl” after he takes the money and Nathan’s gun. It was super good.

Also, not too fake that Nathan was on the ground that long. If you got roped off of your horse you’d have the wind knocked out of you super hard lmao.

--

Scene 22: Bill & The Girls

Clara and Fiona are so cute. Bill playing the “Dad” figure to them both is really nice and it’s good for him. “I’m a lawman. I get to sneak.” What a Bill response. 

--

(Skipping Scene 23 since it’s just Nathan finding his horse.)

--

Scene 24: Lucas visits with Elizabeth

Lucas and Elizabeth are flirting via a nursery rhyme. I...don’t like that LOL. But Lucas’s “Helen Bouchard taught me to read and after that I was on my own.” She really sounds unloving. This was a pretty decent scene, though.

Also, Grand Isle Louisiana had a major hurricane in 1909 and 1915.

They also seem to have been hit by more mild hurricanes in 1916 and 1917, but the 1915 one was a Cat4, so...the most notable.

--

Scene 25: Rosemary and Lee in the Dress Shop

This tries to solve the issue of Clara and Jesse’s marital problems, but it doesn’t actually do that. “Let Jesse read when he gets home.” “I’ll talk to Jesse.” Meh.

--

Scene 26: Barbershop

“Why do this when you’re so good with women’s hair?” I fully expected Fiona to say, “That’s where all the hot gossip is, of course.” I do like  her gumption, though!

--

Scene 27: Nathan Finds Dylan

“I had to let you ambush me, so I had grounds to put you away.” COLD BUT EFFECTIVE. I appreciate this.

Imagine getting to be this smug. I wish it were me.

Anyway, long-term thoughts on this are mostly that...there is just no reasonable way Dylan’s story is over yet. It’s too juicy of a storyline to let go this easily. Allie is going to find out what Nathan did and she’s going to struggle to come to terms with it, especially after her grandfather really did try to turn his life around. Why couldn’t it be the same for her father? Why couldn’t she get lucky like that?

I hope it feels satisfying, whatever they choose to do. Otherwise this was just wrapped up too neatly/too quickly.

--

Scene 28: Nathan Returns

Very good scene. Nathan’s in a good mood and he does my favorite trope of all time when one person in the relationship has a child: “Why don’t we all go?” You already all know each other, so why not? It’s wholesome and good, and it shows he doesn’t care how he gets to spend time with Elizabeth, as long as he does.

Also, it takes a lot of the pressure off of her for the duration of the date and at its conclusion. This was a cute and good scene, one of the better they’ve had, I think.

--

Scene 29: Jesse and Lee Talk

This was a nice attempt at a talk, but it really comes off like Jesse has stopped loving Clara for no reason. That his romantic interest in her is what is causing the failure in their relationship.

The problem is: WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS CAUSING IT. NOBODY EVER SAID. 

I agree that love isn’t “just” a feeling or “just” an emotion. It’s ALSO a choice. Marriage is a commitment you choose to continue every day. That is all good.

“Choose love. Then you feel it.” is probably some of the worst dialogue they’ve put in the show, though. Yuck. It left a bad taste in my mouth. It feels like it’s shaming people who legitimately fall out of love or who are in bad relationships. “If only you chose to work harder.”

I don’t think that was their intention at all, but it really soured the scene. I would have MUCH rather have had Lee get Jesse to talk about what’s wrong and then offer him pointers on how he could do better. Maybe he’s stressed out and losing himself in books, or he wishes Clara would sit and read with him because that’s something he always wanted. Or maybe Clara would be down for reading time if he read to her while she did her sewing.

There’s so much they could have done here to really send this home, but it didn’t work very well. At the very least Lee could have said, instead of ‘choose love’: CHOOSE COMMUNICATION. Make sure she knows you still feel that way about her.

The biggest thing is like, Lee could also be very encouraging in saying like, the honeymoon phase doesn’t last forever but just because things settle down doesn’t mean the love is less.

THERE IS SO MUCH GOOD STUFF THEY COULD HAVE WRITTEN FOR THIS but they chose “Choose love. Then you feel it.” WTF. That’s awful advice.

--

Scene 30: Jesse and Clara

Him bringing her flowers was a nice touch, and her getting him the book was also nice. The tandem bike was SO unexpected to me and I loved it. It’s just goofy enough that it works. The best part is that they know it’s not going to fix anything, but it’s still a fun and nice thing to do, and that’s wonderful for Rosemary and Lee. They both like to make the people they care about happy.

--

Scene 31: Mama Bouchard

MILF ALERT.

Elizabeth is just so shook at all of this she doesn’t say a damn thing for so long it made my palms feel sweaty.

“Someone ought to take an interest in your writing, don’t you think?” I rewatched the episode to understand the tone, and it’s a little hoity-toity/uppity, but she actually doesn’t sound condescending. It’s good for an editor to meet the author, after all, and meet to talk about their writing/book. This has always been custom, even in the early 1900s. Authors didn’t usually get their work published by an editor they’d never met (though of course, you will find some exceptions). 

From the little we saw, Helen seems fine. The preview for the next episode tells us she’s UH, AN EDITOR DOING HER JOB, so I’m not looking forward to the editor being the bad guy, but I guess I’ll have to deal with that when it arrives. (To be clear, Elizabeth has never proved to the audience that she’s a Good Writer, let alone a Great Writer. She’s also not experienced which means her work probably NEEDS SOME WORK.)

Anyway, Elizabeth is immediately rude as HELL. Nobody can make an excuse for this. Helen isn’t THAT big of a deal. There are other publishers. Your father is filthy rich. If she changes her mind about your book you can pub to someone via your father if you have to. Like...Helen wouldn’t have taken you on if she didn’t see any potential in you. 

Even if it was a big deal, Elizabeth has NEVER been a flake. EVER. 

This is a classic case of a writer forcing the character to go out of character in order to bend to what the plot dictates. 

If I were Nathan, I’d drop Elizabeth like a brick.

How to fix this scene? I’ll honestly have to think about that for a while. This was the first hint of truly bad writing this season. The bit with Lee and “choose love” was careless writing, but this scene with Nathan is just Bad.

The thing is, I KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING. I know they put this in there so that it looks like she’ll choose Lucas because she never even goes out with Nathan, and then BOOM. I know it’s meant to be this big thing about how she’s scared to feel anything for Nathan because Lucas is the safer option and also a good man (so why would she fall for the more frightening option?).

But this was not the right way to do this type of scene. I hope to God in the next episode someone says something about it. Allie could tell her it was rude and it hurt Nathan’s feelings/you shouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t want to. It’d be fully in character for her. Rosemary could also say something similar. If they do, I might be able to forgive this...but if it’s not called attention to by the other characters, then it’s a massive failure as a scene to me.

--

Did I miss anything? Do you want my thoughts on something in particular? Shoot me a message HERE and I’ll do my best to answer! 

[iknowyouthinkimbulletproof]

Kiefer- Ashton Irwin

A/N: another 5sos fic! Ashton Irwin x y/n. Y/n’s gender is female for this fic, it just made it easier to write, my apologies to anyone it might upset, but you can always request. Feel free to correct any mistakes! Requested by @witch-harry​: “Could i request ash with prompt 49 (from fluff), and 13(from general) if not then any of the prompts is fine 🥺“.  tags: @calpalirwin​ @suchalonelysunflower​

not my gif!

word count 2539

-

To everyone around them, y/n and ash seemed like the perfect couple. They were never seen apart and anyone that mentioned that possibility would have to deal with Ash. this wasn’t how it always was though. At first Ashton was just a mere thought to y/n. She never met the man, she only ever heard his name from those around her. One specific thing came up every time she heard the man’s name. 

-

“Stay away from him.” Michael said for what felt like the fiftieth time that afternoon.

“C’mon Mike, he can’t be that bad!” y/n wasn’t one to argue with her brother but it seemed that lately they couldn’t stop arguing. It started when Michael was talking about his day at work, like usual, and he happened to mention that his boss needed a translator. 

“Why is this a daily thing with you y/n?” he raised his voice before looking over at his younger sister. It’s not that he didn’t want to spend more time with y/n, which would come with the job considering Mike was Ash’s go to man, he just didn’t want her to get stuck in a world of violence like all of Ashton’s workers. 

“So, what Mike, you just expect me to stay at home all the time?” Y/n spent years stuck at home after their parents died. Michael wanted to keep her safe and away from the dangers that ended their parents' lives and made them orphans, so he had her throw herself into studying. She took a particular interest in languages and Michael never saw an issue with it. Until now. 

This argument lasted hours, all the way through the process of starting, cooking, and eating dinner. At the end, the decision had been made that y/n could meet the man and let y/n “see just how dangerous he really is.”  

The next day, Michael had returned home. He had in fact talked to Ashton about him meeting y/n, like he promised to her he would. The talk he had with Ashton turned unexpected though. Ash had claimed that he didn’t have time to meet her unless it was an official interview for the job. This meant that it wouldn’t matter if y/n had liked him or had proven Michael right, if she got the job she had to commit to it. It was part of Ashton’s rules, never interview to work with me unless you can fully commit. 

Once Michael had shared the news with his younger sibling, he was shocked to see that she did not care. He had hoped that it would’ve shocked some sense into her, maybe even scared her a little. She seemed completely unaffected, it kinda got under his nerves. He shrugged it off, he told himself that there was no point in starting another argument when neither of them even knew if she could get the job. The conversation at dinner that night was short and didn’t involve a lot besides the information y/n had to know before going in for the interview. After dinner, the pair went separate ways.

-

Three days later, y/n was getting ready for her interview when the nerves finally shook her. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Ash, it was more of the possibilities of what could happen if she did get the job. If she messed up, she could be killed. 

Walking beside Michael, she was met by a red door at the end of the hallway with a tall man in front of it. He was gorgeous, he had long curly blond hair and looked like the type of man that turns into a teddy bear once he smiled.  He wore a black suit, like Michael, but he had vertical stripes on his pants that were only slightly noticeable. They made him look taller. Michael smiled at him and went to reach for the door when the man grabbed his wrist. 

“You know the rules Mike, only one guest at a time” the man said, nodding his head to you before gesturing to you to come closer. Michael let out a sigh before taking a few steps back and gently pushing you forward. The man opened the door and stepped aside. Both men watched as you stepped inside. Before she noticed, the door behind y/n shut closed. She took a look around the room, it wasn’t what would be expected. Instead of having a desk in the middle, Ashton had a ‘L’ shaped desk in the corner of the room next to two large windows. The curtains were black, but the view of the lake outside was still visible through them. In Front of the desk was a dark brown leather loveseat, it might’ve not been black like the desk and chair, but it fit the room. The rest of the room contained file cabinets, a pile of duffle bags, and a mirror. y/n walked up to the mirror and straightened her outfit once again. For the interview she decided to wear a sheer black top ,the collar not buttoned, with a lace camisole underneath. For pants she wore a nice pair of black and grey plaid pants, and for shoes a black pair of heels. She turned around and walked towards the couch. She didn’t sit, but she ran her fingers across the back of it and tickled with the gold pendant she wore around her neck. The more she looked the more she realized there was no sign of any personal touches. It was like the office did not belong to anyone. Deciding to sit, she placed herself on the arm of the loveseat and waited. Unbeknownst to her, Ashton was watching her carefully through the camera. His driver, Calum, had informed him that y/n was waiting in his office for the interview. So while Calum drove, Ashton pulled up the live security footage on his phone. He hadn’t planned on watching her for long, he just wanted to know what he would be walking into. She just seemed to captivate him, even through a phone screen. 

Walking towards his office, he noticed a nervous Mike. he shot him a look before nodding at Luke, who stood in front of the door. He walks in and watches as she turns to look at him.

“y/n clifford?” he asks, though it was quite clear she was Michael's sister.

“That’s me. You’re Ashton” for someone who had no idea what he looked like, her sentence came out as a statement rather than a question.

“That’s me.” he smirked at her, looking her up and down. He wasn’t going to hit on her, but it was hard to deny she was gorgeous.

“So, you’re who they warned me about?” she questioned, she wasn’t trying to seem unimpressed, but it seemed as if she was. 

His face contorted as thoughts of people speaking ill of him entered his brain. “What do you mean?” He asked, his voice harsher than before. He walked by her and sat in his chair before motioning her to sit properly on the love seat.

“Nothing personal, i suppose. Though you are the boss of a Mafia.” y/n didn’t move from her spot, instead her eyes drifted to the guns Ashton was placing on the desk. He chuckled, she had a point. Her eyes stayed on his hands as they went to his tie. He loosened it, but once he realized y/n’s eyes were on his hands, he made it a point to tap his fingers on the desk. Peeling her eyes away from his hand, they drifted to his eyes.  “Shall we get started then?

After the interview, y/n was hired on the spot. She filled out some paperwork and it was official.

-

Unfortunately for Ash and Y/n they soon fell for each other. This meant that y/n could be a target. Specifically for Harry styles. He was known to be one of the nicer Mafia bosses, but Ashton had hurt his sister’s feelings and Harry made it a goal to hurt Ashton back. 

Ashton knew the risks of getting emotionally involved with y/n, but he couldn’t help the feelings that he had for her. 

So here he was walking to his office, where he asked y/n to meet with him. It wasn’t unusual for them, it was common for the pair to have a meal together. So common that the chef Ashton has started to bring two plates up for lunch everyday. 

Y/n pushed open the door, seeing as the man (who she grew to know as Luke) was at his lunch break. As she walked in, the chef walked out. The room smelled amazing, the scent familiar put she wasn’t able to pin it down. Ashton walked in behind her and slid his arm around her waist. The two looked at each other, both wearing smiles. The whispered ‘hello’s then Ash kissed the side of her head before leading her to the small table, which he had placed in the room especially for them. Sitting down, y/n fiddled with the ring Ashton gifted her on her birthday. Revealing the food, y/n was surprised to see y/f/m. It's not that Ashton hated the meal, but he wouldn’t be able to eat it everyday like y/n. Sharing glances as they began to eat, Y/n noticed Ashton seemed nervous. It was weird, he was never nervous around her.

“You ok Ash?” y/n questioned. She could see he was hesitant to answer.

It was clear that he was in fact nervous as he stuttered through his response. “Yeah, I just have a question for you.” 

“Shoot!” y/n responded happily. 

He grabbed his drink and took a big sip. He lost all nervousness as he began to talk “I was just wondering if you wanted to go on a date?” y/n laughed, like laugh so hard it hurts your stomach. Ash’s face turned red, neither were sure if it was from embarrassment or anger.

“Ash, you can’t be serious-” y/n cut herself off when she noticed the tight line he had forced his lips into. Changing direction of her question, she spoke again. “We’ve practically been dating since the week you first hired me. I’ve just been waiting for you to make it official.” 

Most of his face went back to normal, his cheeks still red as he blushed. “Why haven’t you?” he reached over and put a strand of hair behind her ears. “Tried to make it official, I mean.” he added.

“It affects you more than me. You’re the boss, maybe you didn’t want people to think you’ve gone soft. Or have a burden of protecting me on your shoulders.” her face burned up, she avoided eye contact by looking down.

“y/n, what are you talking about?” Ashton’s eyebrows frowned. “You’re the only thing that matters to me.” she looked up to see him already looking at her eyes, a smile formed on both their faces. “Plus, i already have that burden. Can’t lose my translator, now can i?” he joked. His cheeks rose to his eyes as he watched her laugh. 

-

It’d been almost two years since then. Their anniversary was coming up and Ashton had left to deal with some business. The business was with Harry, so it made y/n anxious. Mostly because wherever Harry was, Gemma, Harry's sister, was too. it wasn’t usual for Ashton to be away for so long. in fact it wasn’t usual for Ashton to leave home without Y/n, but there’s a first for everything. right?  like the past six days of the week, y/n spent her day cleaning. She had no idea when Ashton would come home, but like the pleaser she was, she had to keep the home he had bought for her spotless. she knew he only spoiled her if she promised to take care of her things. 

as more hours passed y/n grew restless. she read a book, neatened Ashton’s office, took a walk, played cards with Luke (her now personal guard), and even ironed Ashton’s suits for the third time that week. She cooked herself and Luke dinner once she received Ash’s message stating that he was in fact not coming home today.  

Once she had finally managed to drag herself into bed, she stared up at the ceiling and traced the tattoo that dragged itself from her wrist to the side of her thumb. she eventually switched from the tattoo to the (y/f/c) knife that Ash gifted her for their first anniversary. while tracing the tip of the blade for the third time, y/n hear a vibration coming from her bedside table. technically it was Ashton’s bed side table since she currently resided on his side of the bed. she found comfort in the smells his pillows radiated. closing the blade, y/n carefully picks up the phone and to her surprise see’s a text from Michael. When y/n and Ashton became official, Michael was the least excited. As much as he trusted Ash, he knew Ash’s history with Gemma, he didn’t want his little sister’s heart to be broken. 

The message was rushed but practically just stated that he, Ash, and Calum were almost to the house and that Ashton wanted her in the living room. He had a surprise for her.  So y/n got up and dragged her small fluffy blanket before dragging herself down the stairs. With Luke, who stood in front of her bedroom door, following closely behind. Once downstairs, Y/n sat on a loveseat and had Luke sit across from her rather than to stand next to her. They sat in silence for a while before they heard a car pull in. Luke opened the front door, greeting Ashton and Michael before going to help Calum with anything in the car. She watched as Michael assisted Ash with carrying a large crate with a blanket over it. They placed it in front of her and Ash leaned over to press a quick kiss to her lips.

“What is that?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. 

“Wow, no hello-” Michael started

“No, you lied and said you wouldn’t be home tonight” she interrupted. Then nodded towards the crate again. Ashton smiled and lifted the blanket to reveal a german shepherd. y/n squealed and jumped up to open the crate. She placed the dog, who was not small to say the least, on her lap. He seemed tired, but he still managed to lick her hand. She noticed the tag. It read “kiefer”. Ash explained how he was left behind by a cop who clearly abused him. Michael adds that this was the reason it took so long to come home. The dog needed to be washed and loved before being handed over to y/n. The night was then spent with y/n obsessing over the animal and Ashton promising that the dog was not her only anniversary gift, and that she would still be spoiled on their special day.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Free Me (Series)

Characters: Chris Evans x Reader, Henry Cavill x Reader

Prompt: 1. "I never want to hear your name during my life anymore." 2. "Your lips used to be my sanctuary, but now I feel trapped." 3. "Isn't it time we both stopped pretending we make each other happy?"

Summary: Y/N has been noticing how her husband was slowly slipping away, guessing that another woman was illegally involved and included in the marriage she was in. Deciding that what was best for the both of them is to finally let go.

Warnings: Cheating, some cuss words, No smut so you're good to go. 😉, ANGST. (Y/H/T means your hometown! 😊)

Words: 2,430

A/N: PLEASE DON’T FORGET TO COMMENT AND REBLOG! Thank you, Tater tots! This has a sequel! Just go find it in my masterlist blog located in my blog description. Heehee!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots 

The night sky was more wistful than you thought it would be. Stars were trying to partake in what you were feeling as it wasn't actively twinkling like it used to. That was always your problem, you get caught in the fantasy that you've been dying to live in. Imagining a perfect story without flaws and rabbit holes, with a prince who will stay by your side forever. Dreaming that something lasts forever. That even your love would last forever.

Yet, it didn't.

The clock striked twelve. It was time for Cinderella to come home before it was too late. There she went and ran, leaving a glass slipper behind for her prince to find and return.

The door knob rattled, you began to feel tense, sensing your heart beat in anxiety. Your emotions spinning round and round, only getting to feel two heightened emotions: pain and anger.

You heard the door creak, footsteps can be heard. Hearing the soft taps of his rubber shoes against the tiled floor. It would only take him ten steps before reaching the leaving room where you were sluggishly sitting cross legged.

In 5..4...3...2...........1. Cinderella was finally home at last.

You uncrossed your legs, sipping on your Absinthe, the harsh liquid leaving a fiery trail on your throat, now feeling his presence close as you glared at the man before you. Alas, there he was, standing tall, looking ragged and slovenly. Behold, the man that you once dreamt of and thought who would never break your heart.

Chris gave a smile, but it wasn't as bright as you remembered. He changed, his smile changed, everything changed. Even his heart did.

The glint in your eyes was full of spite, once he began walking towards you. He was going to give you a kiss. A fake kiss that you wanted to spit out, as you began over thinking how he shared saliva with the woman he was just with.

He held a hand on your chin, gently lifting it up as he entirely crouched down, nonchalantly giving you a kiss. A kiss without the love you once had. A kiss that you imagined to be loving and zealous. A kiss that would make you heart jump in utter affection and passion, a kiss that would make your legs weak, but it didn't. It was never the same way as it used to before, and it broke your heart and soul.

"Your lips used to be my sanctuary, but now I feel trapped." Those were the first words that came out of your mouth, his lips left yours with a faded sound. You began to feel your heart beat quicken in rage, feeling the alcohol start to kick in. Giving you the strength to finally burst out your feelings and hidden thoughts.

"That sounded like a line in one of my movies. Where'd you get that, Babe?" He quietly sat beside you, giving you a nervous chuckle before taking your hands in his which you quickly rejected with one hostile push of your hand.

You stood up, the transparent, fragile glass in your hands. Your emotions were starting to bubble up and it was beginning to burst into tears. You love him. You gave him your heart. You gave him everything. Yet, he chose to throw it away. You trusted him. You trusted him to fully give his heart to you. However, you didn't realize Mr. Cinderella left his shoe on his way home, and you didn't know..It wasn't just any shoe. It was already his heart. His heart that was once yours, but was now in the hands of another woman. A woman that was the complete opposite of you. A woman who was sexier, and hotter. A woman he probably ever dreamt of.

A woman who isn't you.

"Isn't it time we both stopped pretending we make each other happy, Chris?" You aggravatingly spoke, biting your lower lip hard in anger. The pain was finally poisoning you alive, and it was time that it did.

"W-What? What are you saying?--" He stood up, daring to even walk close, his face looking so confused, a face that you wanted to slap a million times. His face that could lure you into believing him again with just one snap of his sad puppy eyes, and his beautiful lips that continued speaking words that were full of lies. "--You got to stop, Love. You're already drunk, I know you get emotional when you're drunk--"

"Do you really know me, Chris? Do you? Well, Mr. I-know-everything-about-my-wife..What does my face say right now?"

His baby blue eyes stared downright at you, deeply staring, his eyes turning scared and afraid. "It's the face that I never want to forget. The face that was once full of happiness but is now filled with sadness. A face that--" You cut him off, your eyes turning cloudy as you got the unknown watch from your pockets, your fingers trembling in absolute fury as you harshly pushed the watch on his muscly chest, hard enough to tell that you weren't in your usual state. Hard enough to show him that the woman in front of him wasn't the same anymore. "--A face that isn't hers. A face that isn't the woman you've been secretly dating, flirting and fucking with. This face I have right now? Isn't the face you ever want to see from me!" He grabbed the watch that you furiously pushed, examining it with utmost curiosity before his face fell, like his world fell apart. Pathetic. "That watch. It isn't mine, Chris. It's under our fuckin' bed. We don't have a daughter in this home for God's sake! where would that watch even come from?!" You began shouting hysterically, finally caught up in your inexplainable rage.

You thought you were the princess in your own fairy tale. Turns out you were the knight in shining armor who kept on fighting and protecting the pure love you both had. The love that was now ruined forever because of one unforgivable sin. His infidelity.

"Th-that was my sister's! You know how she loves her watches! I was about to give this back to her but--"

You heavily dropped the glass on your coffee table. Loud enough to startle his dog named 'Dodger' that was currently barking nonstop, however that didn't stop you. "I'M DONE WITH YOUR FUCKIN' LIES, EVANS!" You loudly screamed, glaring up at him with the most wrathful look you could ever give to anyone. Your tears threatening to fall, and one by one it did. They were traitors, just like the man in front of you. He was a traitor of your heart.

"I-I called your sister when I was back in (Y/H/T). That watch isn't the only evidence I have, You weren't being too discreet when you uploaded that fuckin' video of dodger singing because I damn sure heard your ex's voice laughing in the background, you fucking invited her in our damn house!" You sneered, your words coming out like venom. His broad, thewy shoulder fell in surrender. He finally lost because he was caught. The traitor was finally caught red handed.

"You've changed. We've changed. The sweetness turned into coldness, everything's starting to feel fake now.." You frankly said and paused, sniffing loudly. "Wh-what happened to us, Chris? What did I do wrong? Is it me? It has always been me, I know." You mumbled to yourself, tears falling like rain on the newly waxed floor.

Chris began pulling on the strands of his black hair in frustration. Never looking at you in the eye, hesitating to speak or not, "I-I loved you, I still do, (Y/N). I do, I loved you,"  He trailed off, seeming to be in a baffled state, his eyes shamefully having the courage to stare straight back at you. There, you saw him shedding tears, his blue eyes turning reddish from the cries.

"Loved? Funny how one letter can create a whole new meaning to the word," You gave a broken laugh, saying it with bitterness and with a broken heart. "L-Let's fix this, Babe. W-we can fix this.." Chris walked towards you, grabbing your face with his cold, large, calloused hands. His face turning paler as fear washed away the love it once had. He was scared, probably scared to be left alone and abandoned by the wife that promised to be with him by hook or by crook. You were starting to disappear in his life, slowly staring to fade away, you were ready to let him go and that made him scared for the life he decided to create. A life without you, a life without his wife that he shared vows with.

You angrily slapped his hands away, feeling grossed out because you imagined those hands had obviously just been held by his bitch. "We can't fix something that has already been broken. You broke my trust, and most importantly my heart, Christopher!"

He took a few long, fast strides before wrapping you in a desperate tight hug. One tight hug that wasn't impossible for you to breath in, you could sense his body shake from weeping. You could sense the fear that was wrapped inside of him, the fear of loosing you once and for all. "We-we can fix this..I-I can fix you again..W-we can make this work--"

"Don't try and fix me when all you need is to fix yourself!" You seethed, breath starting to come out deeper and more harsh. "I am not the man who cheated here! I wasn't the person who destroyed this marriage! It's all on you! You committed adultery! You remained unfaithful, yet you want to try and fix this?! What makes you think you would never try and do it again?!"

"Because I would never!! I'm never gonna do it again! I'm sorry! I'm s-sorry! Please!" Chris's cold hands caught your wrists, his hot tears falling from his eyes. He began to violently use your feeble hands to hit him. But, you could never. You just can't physically hurt the man that you used to love. "--Just hit me, slap me, kick me, I fucking deserve it, Babe! I deserve--"

"You deserve to fucking feel the pain I felt! You fucking deserve to feel the regret once I leave you for good!"

Chris fell hard on his knees, weeping so hard, hopelessly wrapping his muscly arms around your weak legs. He began begging when he knew you were ready to jump out of the house without any second thought. Appearing to find that begging can be the only way he could have you back. "N-NO! Please! Please, no! Don't leave me! I can make her leave! I'll leave her, (Y/N)! Just, p-please! Don't leave me! I beg you...I beg you...."

You forcefully untangled his arms that was wrapped around your body, but he was trying not to let you go, no matter how easy it is to leave..It was difficult especially having a heart that never wanted to lose hope in this marriage you were in. "Ch-Chris," You choked up in your own tears, hearing him plead in despair made you not want to leave. Nonetheless, your decision was final.

"It's time for you to let me go, Love. It's time for me to go,"

"N-No...I'm never letting you g-go, (Y/N)...N-Never." He cried, and you could hear him whimper. His arms deliberately loosened. How you did it was a complete miracle. But, now..now you were finally free.

"You began to let me go from the moment you secretly dated her behind my back," You stood in front of him, head held high with fresh tears falling from your eyes. Never planning on leaning down to give him his one last kiss because he didn't deserve it after all.

"I never want to hear your name during my life anymore." You whispered to him, "W-we could've been happy, if you just realized my love could fulfill you,"

"--but you didn't realize that, so you decided to become greedy and chose to find a different kind of love from someone else,"

You spun on your heels, turning your back away from him, you heard him cry more. It was louder this time, The realization began to hit him so hard, like a brick thrown on a wall, finally regretting every stupid decision he made. You turned your back away from the future that you thought you would have. A future with Chris. Things have turned the other way around as Chris was now a part of your past, he was once your future, nevertheless because of one sin, everything turned upside down. Turning everything worse for him, but becoming better for you.

The knight was finally free from the armor she was wearing, now she was a vulnerable knight without a job and her armor to protect the love that she thought was still there. A love that wasn't real and true.

You were finally free.

Now, Mr. Cinderella could finally marry the princess he deserved and wished for.

A princess that will never be you.

Follow moi blog and turn on the notification button every time I post updates, Tater tots! If you wanna be included in my taglists, just hit me up with an ask or DM! Or if ya’ wanna be friends, just hit me up! Heehee! 

[goddessofthundathighs]

X. REVELATION

Word Count: 2.9K

*taps mic* Is this thing on? Aight, I know I said that I’d update CS every 3-5 business months, but life happened for both me & @hearteyes-for-killmonger. Let me just tell y’all how many times I wanted to completely scrap this book, simply because for a second, I fell out of love with it. I also thought that you guys were no longer interested. For our loyal readers, thank you for sticking with us! This chapter is fairly short, but MAJOR progression is made!

It’s also late, so this is un-beta’d. Any errors will be corrected in the morning.

************

Skylar’s face turned up in a wide grin as O’Shea came downstairs with her latest flower arrangement. If Oya wasn’t good at anything else, she was a professional at wooing her. The bright yellow of the freshly picked sunflowers was a beautiful contrast to the deep red hue of the roses. She’d forgotten that she’d mentioned that they were her favorites.

“With love, from Bae,” O’Shea read teasingly, only making the smile on Skylar’s face stretch wider. “And again I ask, why aren’t the two of you officially a thing? The mutual attraction is obvious and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this wide. Like you’re really flashing all 32 right now,” she asked, placing the vase on the corner of Sky’s desk.

“Because it’s not that easy, Shea. I have walls that need to be broken down and we both have issues that we need to work through. This is why SPT is so important. I have to understand exactly who I’m dealing with before we take things to the next level.”

O’Shea nodded. She hadn’t really thought about their situation like that. She’d just assumed that Sky was still working through ridding herself of Monica and was afraid of being heartbroken again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that. So is she Erik’s client now?”

“Yes. He’ll be her official therapist and draw up our plan of action as far as treatment.”

“Why does she feel like she needs treatment? She doesn’t seem to struggle sexually.”

“Looks can be deceiving, Shea. Behavior is also an indication that there may be underlying issues. Most of the clients that Erik and I treat are fully functioning. Look at you, for example.” Shea pulls a face. It was entirely too early in the workday for Skylar to be coming for her edges. She hadn’t even finished her acai breakfast bowl. “Aye, we not talking about me,” she fussed, placing her hands on her hips.

“But you fit the example. Personally, I think her excessive need to be sexual is a cover for something deeper, I just have to get her to tell me what it is.”

Sky couldn’t deny the soft spot she had for Oya. Even if things didn’t work out on the personal side of their relationship, she still cared for her and wanted to ensure she received the best treatment. Regardless of past situations, everybody deserved to be loved and accepted for who they truly are.

**

A pregnant silence engulfed Erik’s office as Oya and Skylar waited for him to speak. For the last 45 minutes he had been busy typing away at his computer, only pausing briefly to think before starting again. Once finished, he leans back in the Italian leather chair, stroking his beard as he gives the therapy plan a final onceover.

“Alright, before we begin, we first need to get to the root of the problem. Oya, why do you feel you need SPT and what do you hope to gain from it, other than my business partner as a mate?”

Ouch.

Oya recoiled slightly at his brashness. She hadn’t expected to be put on front street so quickly, nor was she prepared to discuss her history so soon. She suddenly felt bare, like she had been stripped of all of her clothing in front of a crowded high school auditorium and her anxiety was spiking. Skylar took notice of how withdrawn she’d become and placed a comforting hand on her thigh.

“It’s okay, Oya. You don’t have to explain in detail just yet, we just need a general idea of what we’re dealing with so that we approach it in the best way,” Skylar explained, the gentleness of her voice causing Oya to return her soft smile.

While she knew that there wasn’t a logical reason to be afraid of Erik or his opinion, her brain had been conditioned to be critical of men ever since that fateful night in her uncle’s basement. Still, having Skylar there was comforting. Her presence made it easier to generate a Spark Notes version of her past.

“I was abused and shunned as a child and as a result, became overtly sexual. While I know that sex can’t fill the void that was left from that experience, it’s the only way to silence the voices in my head. I started looking into SPT because I saw that abuse survivors can benefit from it.”

Erik’s face softened from its usual hard line. While he’d assumed this girl had been through the ringer, his mind couldn’t begin to fathom just how deep her trauma ran.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” he started. “Since it’s obvious that you’re a lot more comfortable speaking to Sky about this, how about the two of you do dinner. If not tonight, then later this week. During dinner, Oya, I need you to be as transparent as possible. I need you to go into full detail of what happened and then Skylar will report back to me. The two of us will formulate a comprehensive 8-week therapy plan, which will be implemented starting next week. Are you okay with doing this?”

Oya nodded, finally allowing herself to completely relax.

“We’re gonna get you right, Ms. Ramirez. Over the next 8 weeks you’ll watch yourself become a new woman, I guarantee it,” Erik smiles, offering her his hand to shake.

She accepts the invitation, returning his smile in the most infectious way before turning to Skylar.

“I know SPT doesn’t always require sex, but we can still implement some BDSM therapy, right?”

Sky laughs in response. Leave it to Oya to bring sexual humor into an otherwise serious situation.

“Baby steps, Ms. Ramirez.”

**

Oya's salmon arrived on the table and she licked her chops, having been out all day without eating. Why Sky had inquired about her level of hunger, Oya stated that her radiant smile was enough to fill her, however, the angry cry of her stomach told a different tale.

The pair opted for a Friday evening dinner, an excuse for Skylar to have a drink or two and not worry about having to work the following day. She sips her Hendricks and tonic slowly, savoring the crisp taste of the cucumbers she requested be added to the concoction.

Oya slammed face first into her plate effectively scaring the shit out of Sky who was currently rethinking a few things in regard to diet based on Oya's uncouth and grizzly attack on her fish. 

"Well. She eats fish like I eat pussy," Sky sighed, brushing it off. Still, she found herself keeping her eyes down to her own plate.

"I wasn't that hungry," Oya belched, wiping her mouth with her stained paper napkin. "I'll take another one still."

After her second fish, Sky was appalled at the way Oya had violated those salmon. She decided that she would also train Oya to eat like a human being and they would practice on a sushi date, since they require smaller bites.

“Alright fish murderer,” Sky finally chirps. “You’ve avoided the inevitable long enough, it’s time to talk.” Oya lifts her head slowly, much like a dog who has just been scolded for peeing on fresh carpet.

“Do we really have to talk about this? Like is it honestly necessary?”

“Yes, Oya. With all due respect, we can’t treat you if we don’t know what we’re treating. You gotta give us something.”

“I gave you something earlier,” she snaps defensively.

“Yes, but that’s not enough. There are several forms of abuse, Oya. Just saying you were abused doesn’t really tell us anything. We can’t use verbal abuse treatment methods to treat a victim of physical abuse. You understand that, right?” Sky asks incredulously.

Oya pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance. She was beginning to regret even bringing up the whole thing. While she thought she was ready to expose this part of her life, fear and her anxiety were getting the best of her. She was beginning to close up again.

Just tell her, her psyche coaxes. 

“I was raped by my mother’s brother when I was ten. It happened nearly everyday for 6 months. It took everything in me to say something to my mother about it, but when I finally did, she accused me of lying.”

A lone tear slid down Oya’s cheek at the memory.

“From that point on, I haven’t been able to trust or fully commit to a man. Which is why I couldn’t talk to Dr. Stevens earlier. I know he means well, but --”

“It’s a work in progress, I understand,” Skylar interjects.

“To this day, she refuses to acknowledge what that man did to me, even though he’s currently serving a 20-year prison sentence for pedophilia. From that point on, sex was my escape. I know it sounds oxymoronic, but it helped fill the void and silence the pain. Even if the gratification was short lived.

Skylar takes her hand, offering a napkin to wipe the fresh tears that slid down her face.

“I think we should start slow. I’ll get with Erik, but I feel like our first few sessions should be meditation and sensate focus. I want you to be comfortable with touching and being touched in a nonsexual manner before we move onto more advanced methods. Are you ok with that?”

“I think so,” Oya admits. “I’ve been using sex to run from my demons for majority of my life. I don’t want to hide anymore.”

“And when this is all over, you won’t have to,” Skylar smiles.

“I still wanna be your sex slave at some point, though,” Oya jokes.

“Check please!” Sky laughs.

**

After several back and forth debates as to where the session should be held, the doctors finally decided that Oya’s house would be best.

“It’s somewhere that she feels comfortable, and therefore, it should be easier for her to open up,” Erik said once the final decision was made. Sky nods her agreement, texting Oya to alert her of the plan.

Sky: Instead of coming to my office, we’ll be doing the session at your house. Is that ok?

Oya: Ooh, I get the good doctor all to myself. Say less. Here’s my address

Skylar chuckles at her eagerness, adding the address to her Maps app for later access.

“She seems excited,” she tells Erik, pocketing her phone.

“For now,” he says, sliding a manila folder towards her. “She’s flighty, so her nervousness can come back at any moment. Make sure you keep her relaxed the entire time.”

“Why you talking to me like she’s my first patient?”

“Just making sure your head is in the right place. You’re typically behind the scenes. Patients like Oya can be tricky.”

“I got this, dad,” Sky groans, swinging her bag over her shoulder as she stands to leave.

“You better stop. You ain’t called a nigga Daddy in a minute, Nola.” 

“Goodbye, Stevens! I’ll let you know how things go.”

“Text me. I promised the baby brat we’d go to the carnival later. She’s been dying for a funnel cake and a new stuffie.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Sky beams, armed with new ammunition to tease Shea with once they were back in the office. After reading through the therapy plan for herself, she rests the folder and her bag in the passenger seat and heads home. She would need the rest of the night to prepare for the next day’s session.

**

The California sun beamed brightly as Skylar made her way to Oya’s apartment. It was a beautiful three bedroom, three bath unit in Playa Vista, not far from the beach. Skylar was immediately drawn to the brightness of the space, the white walls with soft marble and gold accents adding to the feminine charm.

“I was thinking we could do this in my meditation room,” Oya said once Sky was done with her exploration.

“Ooh meditation room,” Skylar squealed, following her into what would become her favorite room in the entire unit. Behind the curtain of strung selenite crystals lay a spiritual oasis. Two black Buddah statues sat on both sides of the entrance while pink, orange, and yellow pillows decorated the floor. They looked to be from Bali or some other spiritual region. On the east and western walls were sun and moon appliques, subtle nods to the orishas Yemoja and Oshun, while chakra posters and decorations line the southern wall. On an inverted bookshelf near the front facing wall lay her crystals, sage, and a small altar Sky could tell had been used recently.

“Okay, I already loved the rest of the house, but this room is a whole vibe,” Skylar compliments, pulling out her notebook and video camera. “It’s standard practice that these sessions are recorded, but if you’re uncomfortable being on film, I have a tape recorder.”

“No, the camera is fine,” Oya assured, taking a seat on the pink pillow. She sat Indian style with her palms resting on her knees. Skylar placed her camera between two rose quartz cathedrals, taking a few test shots to ensure the angle was perfect. Once done, she mimicked Oya’s stance on the yellow pillow across from her.

“It is the third day of March and the time is 3:33 pm,” Skylar says, beginning the recording.

“I see you, Universe,” Oya muses to herself, allowing herself to be consumed by the feeling of divine protection.

“We’re going to start with simple breathing exercises to get you relaxed and comfortable, okay?” Oya nods in response. “First I need you to sit up straight, but keep your shoulders and neck relaxed.”

Oya complies, rolling her neck to the sides to release some apparent tension.

“Now, close your eyes and visualize your happy place. It could be the beach or your bed, just wherever makes you feel the happiest,” Sky instructs, doing the same. “Now, breathe in deep through your nose, hold it for about five seconds, then release through your mouth.”

The two repeat these steps about five times before Oya is finally allowed to open her eyes. Skylar makes note of the sated look in her eyes.

“How do you feel?” she asks softly.

“Surprisingly, I feel really good. I do breathing exercises often, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed before.” “Good, that’s what we want. Now, we’ll move into sensate touching. I’ll need you to remove your jewelry and as much clothing as you’re comfortable with.”

Oya’s face turns up into a sly smirk.

“Are you getting fresh with me, Dr. Greene,” she teases, slowly removing the white Nike crop top.

Sky chuckles before answering.

“Quite the opposite, Ms. Ramirez. In sensate touching, participants are typically nude and free from jewelry. The method we’ll be practicing this afternoon is non-genital sensate touching, which means that I will touch every single part of your body except your breasts and your vagina. While sensate touching may cause arousal, it is important that you remain professional and focus only on your own sensations while being touched, understood?” 

“Aye, aye, captain,” Oya responds, saluting for emphasis. This makes Skylar giggle.

“I can already tell you’re not going to make this easy for me, Ms. Ramirez.” “I promise to be a good girl, Dr. Greene. You have my word.”

“Alright. This first session will be strictly me touching you with my hands. If this goes well, then we can introduce other elements, such as feathers, scarves, and even oils. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or sleepy, let me know and we can continue another time.”

“I’m not allowed to fall asleep?” Oya questions.

“No. It’s important that you remain awake and conscious through the entire experience,” Sky responds, positioning herself behind Oya. Slowly and deliberately, Skylar rubs her hands up Oya’s arms, starting with just her palms. She moves up to her shoulders and neck, alternating between firm and subtle pressure to the pressure points there.

“Mmm,” Oya moans softly. “You should consider massage therapy,” she coos, allowing her head to fall slightly.

“You think so?” Sky asks with a grin. “Yes ma’am. Your touch is very relaxing, Dr. Greene,” Oya shudders as Skylar’s fingertips dance up and down her back.

“Well I’m glad you think so, Ms. Ramirez.”

The session continues for exactly 33 minutes before Oya’s eyes start to droop. “Okay, I think we need to stop, otherwise, I’m gonna be asleep in your arms,” Oya says, her voice audibly more soft and relaxed than when they first began.

Skylar shuts the camera off and makes a few more notes in her notebook before putting her things away. Without thinking, she sits down beside Oya, pulling her so that she was cradled against her supple bosom.

“I don’t think I’d object to that much,” she beams.

Oya bites her lip softly before staring up into Sky’s big green eyes. She could see herself getting lost in them for days.

“You think you’re capable of fixing me? I’m damaged goods, Dr. Greene.” Her voice came out just above a whisper, her tone laced with vulnerability. Skylar smoothed her hair, tucking a stray curl behind her ear before delivering her heartfelt response. 

“A smushed Reese’s cup is still a Reese’s cup, Ms. Ramirez. And I happen to really like Reese’s cups.”

Oya’s smile spread across her whole face, a soft twinkle dancing in her eyes.

“I’ll be your Reese’s cup.”

**

@vikkidc @thadelightfulone @sydneebleu @blktinkerbell @madamslayyy @chaneajoyyy @jozigrrl @thehomierobbstark @ @iamrheaspeaks @mareethequeen @forbeautyandlife @whatmoredoyouwantamericaa @blowmymbackout @wakanda-inspired @yaachtynoboat711 @nickidub718 @heyauntieeee @princessstevens @bakarilennox @xaviera108 @alexundefined @raysunshine78 @dameshaemonique @laketaj24 @youreadthatright @theogbadbitch @bugngiz @amirra88 @post-woke @im5ftbutmythroat66 @blackpinup22 @maya-leche @blessyd-bthyname @unholyxcumbucket @eclecticblkgirl @kissmyafropuff @rick-sosa @jennajai @allhailqueennel @killmongersbaby @eye-raq @thickemadame @soulfulbeauty19 -

[hypnomicimagines]

15 for Ichijiku?

(we don’t get enough requests for the ladies.....)

Kadenokoji Ichijiku: 

There had to be some law against falling for the person you worked for.

You’d gone through countless background checks before being able to work for Ichijiku as she was an important government figure and who knows who might be sent in to take her out. You were someone who was simply there to help clean or cook for her whenever she requested it, to keep her daily tasks in a row and be her memory when she needed it, a glorified assistant for the most part. The job paid well and Ichijiku treated you fairly but you’d been struggling with your growing attraction to her, the power and confidence she exuded doing nothing to help your heart. You didn’t want to fall for your employer, someone like her would surely fire you if she caught wind of anything as inappropriate as that, but you couldn’t help but daydream while she was away.

You’d taken care of her clothing, cooked dinner (that she insisted on sharing with you, so you’d made more than you normally did), getting prepared to leave for the evening when the weather forecast was turned on. It appeared the area was to be hit with strong winds and rain which meant you should leave sooner rather than later, quickly gathering your things and ready to head out the door when Ichijiku stops you with a solid hand on your shoulder. Her touch, while completely innocent, is almost too much for you to take, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest to get to your car before your body could. You tried to keep a straight face as you turned to look at her curiously, heart sinking as you worried you’d done something to upset her. The evening had been so nice, you’d even seen that rare beautiful smile you’d only heard about in whispers around the office, so you thought things had been going pretty well.

“Why don’t you stay here?” Ichijiku pointed towards the window which you could barely see through due to how dark it currently was outside and how heavy the rain was coming down, taking a few steps to confirm you were indeed getting rained in with the woman you had an unfortunate crush on. Your face paled and Ichijiku’s remained calm as ever. “I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

The night continued on with relative ease as you were used to spending this much time around her though you’d never had to stay overnight, sometimes just working late hours to finish up on paperwork or any other task that came her way. You’d never quite seen her so relaxed or even out of uniform but she was dressed quite casually in front of you now, her hair fully down as she flipped through a book. You couldn’t take your eyes off her even as you tried to scroll through your phone, wanting the image of casual Ichijiku to be committed to memory before you never saw it again. She was so ridiculously stunning it was unbelievably unfair that you be expected to keep your lovestruck admiring gaze to yourself, wishing you didn’t have to be so careful.

You’re apparently not as careful as you think you are.

“Why are you staring at me?” It’s an innocent enough question, pretty valid considering the past hour has been taken up by at least forty-five minutes of staring at her and fifteen staring at her while your phone was in front of your face. You looked away but quietly wondered what might happen if you were honest with her, if you confessed that you had feelings for your boss, that you wanted nothing more than to be able to cuddle up with her on the couch on a cold rainy night just like this one.

“I can’t help it…” You finally mumbled out, knowing she wouldn’t taken silence as an answer. “You’re… I think you’re very beautiful.”

“Hmm.” Ichijiku placed her book down on the coffee table, leaning closer to you with a slightly mischievous glint in her eyes. “Is that so?”

You mirror her movements without realizing and lean in too, faces inches away from hers, closer than you’d ever been. You don’t miss the way her eyes slide down to your lips then back up to meet your gaze, her hand sliding over to touch your knee and squeeze it. The tension in the room is so thick you feel yourself growing weaker, wanting to just close the gap and get it over with.

“This is inappropriate.” Your face fell instantly and you pulled away from her, fear suddenly overcoming you; what would you do without her? What would you do without your job? The thought of losing both at the same time and completely turning your life back to how it once was- Before you can start panicking Ichijiku’s hand comes up to your face, cupping your cheek and forcing you to look her in the eye. “I can get you a new job. One with another official that’ll pay the same. If we’re to continue this relationship… I can’t see you as my underling.”

“So you…?” Your hopeful look threw her off completely, having to stop herself from getting flustered just because you were too cute for her to stand.

“I am willing to give it a try,” She sounded uncomfortably stiff but you knew it was because she was a woman who didn’t often show her emotions and had likely not been in this situation very often. Her eyes softened as your smile returned to your face, nodding to show you approved of the job transfer if it gave you a chance at being with her. “We shouldn’t do anything tonight. I’ll see that your transferred to your new position within the next few days.”

“And then we can go on a date?!” Your eyes lit up at the potential, a list of places you know she’d enjoy forming in your head.

“If I’m free, yes.” Her tone was still stern but there was nothing that could possibly dampen the mood now, knowing nothing could happen tonight but… You reached over to wrap your arms around her anyway, ready to pull away at the first sign of discomfort but are pleased to feel she’s relaxed under your touch now. She even leaned into the hug, a hand planting itself on your back to rub it gently before she pulled away. She finally stood from the couch, straightening out her clothing before addressing you again.

“Goodnight, we have an early morning tomorrow.”

“I’ll make us breakfast!”

“…You no longer work for me from this point on, you know? You don’t have to do such a thing.”

“But I wanna,” Your bright smile is practically seared into her brain at this point, knowing she’ll see it while she dreamed tonight. “See you in the morning~”  

[strangebrews]

tea for two

Summary:  After nearly two hours of preparation, Alfie was finally ready. The table was set, the tea was brewed, and the poison watched at the end of the counter. That was Alfie’s source of entertainment. // Alfie engages in tea party Russian roulette that he himself organized. Tommy, eventually, reacts.

Notes: i had a tiny idea regarding alfie organizing lethal tea parties for funsies a while back, and it became this. also thank you to @sholomons + @those-peakyboys for reading bits of this as a sanity check <3

Warnings: Suicidal Ideation/Suicide Scare/Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms/ - those are the main ones, but if you think there should be more let me know. The rest of them can be found on the AO3 post. I promise this isn’t some devastating ending though, lmao, technically is supposed to be //romantic// in a twisted Tommy Shelby way.

On AO3

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

Alfie indulged in the art of organizing tea parties later in life, once the crime became routine and uninspiring.

The idea came to him one afternoon, while thumbing through the day’s post. He was struck by a revelation, of sorts, “yeah, because when I went to pick up my cup, right,” he had described the moment to Tommy in detail, “I noticed that there, at the very bottom where the tea leaves floated—there was a message.” His eyes had narrowed, voice low, fingers motioning in the air trying to conjure up the image, “and you know what they were saying to me, those leaves, Tommy—they were saying Alfie, you have got to stop hanging around that Shelby—his witchcraft and madness are starting to rub off on you ” he’d cackled then, which meant the origins would remain unexplained. 

Alfie did, however, commit himself to the task. 

He decided the event would take place in his dining room, using the hand-carved table featured there. Tommy watched him prepare from afar the day of the first tea party. He did not endorse the fucking behavior, but he was curious—it was rare to see Solomons fuss over plate placements.

A frilly tablecloth was dug out from the back of a cupboard, and freshly picked flowers decorated the middle. Alfie used his best porcelain set—the one he claimed was the last heirloom still in his possession from the mother’s side of his family. That bit was a lie, he had admitted to Tommy one day. Instead, he had Ollie scavenge it from some shop window with a sock over his head and tears in his eyes—but that tale was far less interesting. And the foundational role of any host, Alfie knew, was to entertain his esteemed guests.

Tiny silver spoons—ones which nearly disappeared in Alfie’s hand—lay atop carefully folded napkins. He drew the shades, and arranged the biscuits, lips pursed in concentration. The scene looked quite pretty, actually. Meticulously organized—an unexpected detail coming from Alfie Solomons. 

And after nearly two hours of preparation, Alfie was finally ready. The table was set, the tea was brewed, and the poison watched at the end of the counter. 

That was Alfie’s source of entertainment. 

  +++

  His guests were an array of different people. Old friends, new enemies, long standing members of his payroll, a few of the fanciest individuals he knew—each person with some form of stain on their record, at some point having wronged him. Alfie was not entirely cruel. 

“It’ll be a shame,” he had said, “but everyone dies at some point, yeah?”

The trick about the poison was that it took a while to pollute the veins. Alfie had considered this detail as thoughtfully as he had the decorations—determined to avoid frothing mouths from ruining the appeal of his parties. The winners would appear fine until the next morning, so the poison was untraceable in both taste and source. 

For a while, at least. Though even if the pieces were eventually slotted together—who would be brave enough to accuse an aging man of serving tea?

“It just might be genius, Tommy.” Alfie had lifted the vial towards him, eyes glazed over with self-admiration. Going after him would look ridiculous, Alfie knew this. Tommy knew this, and he smiled besides himself. Perhaps it was.

And as any good host, Alfie partook in the activity himself—an equal player in the game. A few clear drops coated the bottom of a cup, the cups were mixed up, the location was forgotten.

The fact that Alfie had grown desensitized towards his own death was no shock—he and Tommy shared the same indifference. Though what Tommy struggled to understand was his sudden interest in openly pursuing it. 

Though, didn’t they do that already? Alfie had asked. Their years brimmed with pacts, vindictive partners, with mouthing off to men whose fingers trembled against triggers. They had never run in the opposite direction of death, rather alongside it—the place where their paths would converge had always been just along the horizon. Alfie’s behavior was nothing but a variation of that.

“More creative.” he had claimed—better than being killed by a gun or a knife, “Or by a blade sewn into a fucking hat. Imagine that.” he smirked. It was only funny because they were past killing each other now—Alfie had beaten Tommy to the initiative.

+++

  Of course, the cordial invitation had been extended to Tommy Shelby as well.

“And how have I wronged you?” Tommy had asked. Alfie laughed, promising it would be a clean cup, but Tommy refused regardless. The whole matter was much too dramatic for his taste.

He would stay the night of the tea party, though—was due for a fuck, anyway. 

-

In truth, Tommy had been staying the night more frequently. 

It was Alfie who had initially offered to move the location of their meetings . The official reason he’d cited was for more security, but Tommy had seen him holding his back in pain each time he’d stepped out of the office. 

Fucking in a bed, as opposed to on a desk, toed the line with an intimacy Tommy was cautious about crossing, but the suggestion was too enticing to refuse—aging had not been doing either of them any favors. And because it was Alfie who had made the proposal, Tommy still had room to cut himself free of any strings attached.

The routine had continued as usual at first—business, fuck, leave. Tommy would gather his clothes frantically afterwards, hopping out the door with only one sock on. He was terrified of the implications staying longer would have—the consequences it could bring.

Though that chaos eventually transitioned into a slower collection of his belongings—fatigue and the haze of his orgasm tethering him to the bed. He stayed for longer, counted the cracks in Alfie’s ceiling and the number of stripes on his sheets. These extra moments seemed progressively less threatening. 

“Are you truly that desperate to return to that lonely fucking castle of yours, mate?” The question came months later, while Tommy sat on the side of the bed, rubbing the stiffness from his legs. He was startled by the voice—Alfie tended to slip into a slumber nearly immediately after they’d pulled away from each other. 

Lonely castle. It sounded worse when phrased that way. A kingdom crafted at the expense of everyone around him. Pitiful.

Tommy had not entertained Alfie with an answer, but still chose to lay back down—comforted by the idea of a few more hours of sleep. He left the next day wordlessly, and sleeping over became routine. The castle would still be standing in the morning.

Yet that change didn’t mean anything, Tommy reasoned. Whether he permitted himself to stay or not, it was still just fucking —nothing more complicated than that. 

So perhaps it’d be a shame if Alfie finally won one of his rounds, Tommy thought the evening of that first tea party—his business would be missed. But he remained, on the whole, unbothered by it.

Everyone died at some point.

+++

  Each chair was occupied with an esteemed guest the first time. They were all impressed by the sudden burst of hospitality—thankful for Alfie’s unspoken forgiveness of their past transgressions against him. 

Assumption was quite lethal. 

Meaningless chatter swelled the air in the room, shrill laughter echoing off of the walls. Alfie floated from place to place, offering stories and more food, savoring each one of his sips.  He chuckled often, rolled his eyes on cue, and held his pinky up.

It was a performance, yet no one in attendance was aware they were a part of the show. 

He caught their attention in particular with a story from before the war. Something to do with a stray dog, an appalled mother and a wet carpet—certain elements of which were exaggerated. “Oh Alfie!” he’d felt a small pat on his shoulder, a gesture which in any other circumstances would have earned the person a cut on the cheek, but Alfie simply smiled and patted back. It could be you . 

Alfie found excitement in it all—an ironic strengthening of the energy which had been slowly draining from his body. 

It was nearly enough to forget about the cancer.

-

Cancer could have been considered a motive—it was the letter from the doctor speculating about his expiration date which had sparked the inspiration for the tea party business. Though Alfie didn’t like to dwell on that coincidence. Much rather preferred to keep the reason as Alfie’s sudden burst of twisted thrill-seeking . Not that anyone would know about the sickness, regardless—Thomas Shelby included. He fully intended to live out these days undisturbed by sympathy.

He came to bed that night with cheeks flushed and things to say. Granted, Alfie always had a mouth full of words, but they were stories this time—things he’d seen and heard. Tommy had propped himself up against the headrest, pulling on cigarette after cigarette, feigning disinterest. 

A cousin of the Sabini’s had brought Alfie a bottle of wine, he learned. There had been a bit of tea spilling on the carpet sometime in the middle, though it had occurred after a refill, Alfie reassured. Nearly everyone offered some comment about the design on the porcelain, sniffed the flowers, and claimed they had enjoyed themselves in the doorway.

“Silly little puppets, yeah—every last one.” Alfie had laughed and blown the candle on the nightstand out. It was nice, actually, being able to share this bit of secrecy with Tommy. An outlet, of sorts, and it helped that Alfie did not have to truly explain himself to him. 

It was the first night Tommy stayed which did not involve fucking.

+++

Tommy continued accepting the invitations to be an invisible guest. 

Unsurprisingly, one party had not been enough to satiate Alfie’s newfound appetite for this version of Russian roulette and finger sandwiches, so he kept organizing them. It tended to be the same crowd each time, with a few new faces here and there—replacements for any vacant seats. 

Alfie gradually grew fancier—a nicer tablecloth, more biscuits, a larger array of tea. He had different stories to tell, new rings to show off and even Ollie had grown quite fond of the flower picking aspect of his job, asking a few days in advance if he had any preferences. 

Alfie collapsed beside Tommy after the fifth party, exhausted and unwilling to relay the night’s events. It wasn’t necessarily healthy for his back, Tommy had mused—all those hours of wandering around the room, hunched over chairs—but his mouth stayed shut, and they fell asleep in silence. 

-

Even after nights when his insomnia had been generous, Tommy woke first. 

Alfie breathed beside him.

It was a relief, Tommy admitted—spared him the dramatics of having to drag Alfie out from between the sheets himself. He’d imagined that scenario once or twice while waiting on Alfie to stop his entertaining, considering what exactly he would do with Alfie’s body just—laying there. Notify the staff most likely, but he wasn’t quite sure what beyond that. Perhaps shake his hand, or pay his respects through a whispered congratulations , yet Alfie always managed to interrupt that train of thought before anything concrete was decided on. 

He was hesitant to leave the morning after the fifth night, oddly disappointed that Alfie had not shared any stories. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but he decided to wait until Alfie woke. There was time to spare, Tommy argued with himself, it was the weekend—as if that meant anything in this line of business. 

Idling in bed until the moment arrived was out of the question. Roaming his halls also seemed inappropriate—and risky, in case Ollie had let himself in. So Tommy settled on visiting the kitchen to eat. Attempt to, at least.

Preparing food provided only momentary relief from the fact that staying had been an absolutely idiotic idea. Tommy brewed some tea—for the irony, if anything else—and made toast. Some for him, some for Alfie, though he winced at the choice and threw Alfie’s portion in the bin. Too much.

He opened the morning paper. Squirmed in his chair. Checked the time. Returned to reading. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Alfie eventually joined him in the kitchen, sleep still settled on his limbs. His hair was sticking up in uneven tufts, beard flattened on the side he’d been lying on. Nothing indicated he was surprised that Tommy had remained in the house.

“So you’re still here then, eh?” Tommy said, eyes on the news, but desperate to fill the silence.

Alfie only ran a heavy palm across his face. “Yeah, still fucking here.”

+++

  The parties remained successful and Alfie’s enthusiasm persisted. Guests streamed in week after week—whether out of fear or curiousity was unclear. It was quite unusual to be in Alfie Solomon’s presence within an unthreatening environment, but they seemed to appreciate his change in character. 

And the tea was always delicious. 

It was Tommy who suffered the change in opinion, pacing the bedroom with a clenched jaw.  He had certain ideas—to make an appearance, peek through keyholes or press his ear to the door, to somehow interfere—but he cast them all aside.

Time alone had never been healthy for him. Funny, for a man who ensured his own abandonment.

-

 Nervous. The word finally rose above all of the other thoughts at one point and settled bitterly on his tongue. Tommy was nervous. 

“Aren’t you fucking bored of this yet, Alfie?” he asked as casually as possible, in between pulls of his cigarette, but Alfie had shook his head.

“I should have done this sooner.” he claimed, eyes dancing, and for some reason the sentence felt like a slap to the face.

Tommy did not fight back. 

+++

Alfie retired earlier than usual one night, reasoned it was due to a headache. Tommy bit down on his lip to prevent any visible reaction.

He slipped under the covers, hand searching for the band of Tommy’s pants —ar ousal had always reigned above pain for Alfie —but Tommy swatted it away, ignoring the slight tenting. “Not today, Alfie.”

Alfie grunted. It was not necessarily unusual for Tommy to refuse him, though Tommy’s face was flushed, teeth gnawing at the inner flesh of his cheek. There was still potential in the moment.

“But Tommy,” he whispered, sliding up against him, lips grazing Tommy’s neck and fingers playing at his hip. “I may be dead tomorrow.” and he placed a firm kiss to his Adam’s apple. It was only meant to be a teasing remark —nothing more than Alfie’s greedy attempt at extracting a fuck out of the other man—but the words wrapped themselves around Tommy’s throat.

Tommy snatched Alfie by the hair, tearing him away from his skin. Their eyes met, Alfie squirming besides himself under the cold stare. “You might be dead tomorrow.” Tommy repeated, nodding in agreement. Out of reach . 

And he kissed him.

Once. Twice. Grip slowly loosening, hips finally shifting into Alfie’s touch. His hand remained in the hair, the other one snaking around Alfie’s waist, clothes being peeled off feverishly. Alfie’s efforts proved successful.

They fucked that night to the brink of exhaustion, wrapped in the darkness, spent and gasping for air, and when Alfie pulled away, Tommy choked on a please echoing in his throat. 

It was a hollow plea—for something he was too terrified to admit.

+ ++

The following morning after he woke, Tommy lingered in bed.

Alfie snored facing him, rested on top of his left arm. Sleep softened him, Tommy noted—hid the pain behind his eyelids, smoothed the creases from his forehead. He reached out hesitantly to run the backs of his fingers across Alfie’s shoulder, along the shell of his ear, his jaw, tugging down the covers to find his thighs. It was a peaceful moment—rare and terminal—and Tommy was suddenly gripped by an urge to memorize it. Drink in every detail. 

Tommy took advantage of the safety unconsciousness had provided him and settled back down, shifting closer to Alfie’s body—close enough so that the tips of their noses were brushing against one another. He lay still, soaking in the warmth of Alfie’s exhales, and tried to align their breathing. 

The task proved to be more challenging than expected. Tommy stumbled over his own inhales, yet Alfie continued to be one breath ahead of him. Inhale. Exhale . Out of sync. And it was a silly effort, naive and trivial, but Tommy’s heart still hammered at his ribcage in frustration. Because there had to be something there , in the alignment. Some kind of meaning, a mutual understanding shared between their bodies. A form of reassurance. A sign of togetherness —that Tommy was not fucking mad for wanting to share these breaths with Alfie for longer than the bastard had planned for himself.

But each attempt sputtered and failed.

He slammed his fist into the mattress and rolled off the bed, waking Alfie in the process.

-

The toast was burnt that morning. 

No tea— fuck tea. 

Alfie walked into the kitchen, rubbed a palm across his face instinctively. The regular question never arrived, but he answered its ghost regardless. “Still here.”

Yes , Tommy thought, miraculous . 

He left for Birmingham immediately after breakfast, and abandoned his tendency of visiting Alfie in between the special occasions. He would know when the next party would be—the invitation would arrive in the post a few days before it.

+++

A week later, there were only 16 people in attendance, two couples were missing. Whether they had grown suspicious or were dead was left unclarified—Alfie was only interested in one outcome. 

The event proceeded as usual: eat, laugh, sip, Alfie refilling his cup more frequently than usual. Nobody questioned the absence. It was normal.  

And then it was not, because Tommy Shelby walked into the room — eyes bloodshot, scanning the scene. 

There was a 1 in 16 chance that Alfie poisoned himself today, Tommy noted, but he had endured this night after night and he found he’d grown quite bored of the adrenaline. The uncertainty. So he took a stand at the head of the table this time around, his hand hidden behind his coat.

It was meant to be a distraction, perhaps a form of confession —anything to get Alfie to stop these fucking games. Whispers swept the room, mouths parted in surprise—it was a rare occurrence, seeing Tommy Shelby in attendance—and Alfie sighed, because he knew, he fucking knew that Thomas was here to spoil the fun. 

The gun pointed to Tommy’s head, and Tommy’s head pointed towards Alfie.

“One,” 15 pairs of alarmed eyes stared at Tommy’s finger on the trigger. Only 1 pair glared back into his own. Alfie refused to set the teacup down.

“Have you gone fucking mad, mate?” Tommy had actually heard they called this love . 

“Two.” The guests were moving, tripping over chairs, rugs, each other, searching frantically for the exit. The taboo of witnessing a potential suicide outweighed their curiousity, it seemed. So easy to clear a room.  

The doors slammed shut, silence replacing the sound. It was empty now. Just him, and Alfie, and the gun, and the poison laughing out from one of the cups. 

“Three.” Bang.

Tommy’s body crumpled to the floor.

-

He was lying half underneath the table when Alfie finally walked over. His eyes were wide open. Unscathed.

Alfie snatched the gun from his hand, clicked open the cylinder. “Tommy, you know, you’re not fucking invited to the next one, yeah?” the first shot had been a blank, but there was a single bullet inside. “Right—on account of the fucking mess you’ve made here today.” 

“I’m well aware, Alfie.” he was tracing the pattern of the table’s wood with a shaky finger. Alfie grunted and tossed the gun aside. He collapsed awkwardly beside him, taking Tommy’s hand into his own. It would weather his joints even further, lying down here on the floor, Alfie was well aware, but this was the only act of affirmation which seemed appropriate. 

He did not ask about the bullet. He knew why it was there. Kept as a precaution—in case Alfie had decided to drink anyway. 

They breathed together. 

[avengerscompound]

That Kid You Knew - Chapter 8

That Kid You Knew: An Iron Man Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕

Warning:  Fluff, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count:  3412

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Summary:  You had grown up knowing Tony Stark but as you’d gotten older you’d lost track of him.  When you see him at a party you have a drug-fueled one-night-stand with him.

10 years later he finds you again and has to come to terms with the fact he’s been a father all the time.

Chapter 8

Tony straightened his tie as he looked in the mirror.  His heart was racing even more than usual.  There had been several occasions already today that he had been fairly certain he was going to go into full-blown cardiac arrest.

Today was the day.  After months and months of planning, people losing their absolute fucking minds on the internet and not in the good way, booking venues and musicians and celebrants, ordering cakes, meeting with designers and planners, the paparazzi literally stalking the two of you at every turn, a bachelor party in Vegas that lasted a week, three days if which were still unaccounted for, he was marrying you.

The pale gray Armani suit was tailored to fit him exactly.   It was two pieces and hugged his body without pulling tight anywhere.  You’d left the color and style up to him, saying his designers new more than you did.  There was one notable exception though.  The magenta tie he wore that matched the orchid he wore in his lapel.  Those were all you.

Your relationship hadn't been the standard; meet the woman, start dating, fall in love, get married, have kids thing that society had decided was the order you do things in.  Tony didn't care.  He didn't really consider himself a standard guy.  Besides he has never expected to do any of those things anyway.  If the universe had decided to send him the kid before the falling in love and finish up with the wedding, he could roll with that. It felt good to have it.

It had taken a lot of juggling and healing, but Tony was now comfortably a dad.  Not only that, he was in love.  That part he hadn’t expected at all.  But here he was, about to stand under an arch of twinkling lights and flowers while he waited to see you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress.  He was excited and terrified all at once.

“Dad, can you help me with this?”

Owen’s voice snapped him out of his daydream and he turned to look at his son.  Owen was thirteen now.  He’d had to teach him how to shave.  Owen had laughed the whole time and asked him if he was sure he didn’t need a ruler if he wanted the same effect as Tony.  He was prone to random bouts of sullenness and had an acid tongue, but all in all, he was a good kid.  Tony was really proud of him.  He still had moments that he’d wished he’d been there from the start, but there was still plenty of life experiences they would get to share.

Owen was fumbling with his tie.  Tony stepped over to him and helped him fix the double Windsor knot that Owen was struggling with.  He was wearing a two-piece in white but the tie was the same magenta as Tony’s.  He was a skinny kid, but tall.  He could already look Tony directly in the eye.  “You look good, bud.  How do I look?”

Owen smiled.  “Yeah, dad.  Mom’s going to love it.”

There was a knock at the door and Rhodey entered.  “You two ready?  The way you’re going she’s going to be out there before we are.”

Tony ran his hands along the shoulders of Owen’s jacket.  “Yeah, I think so.  Let’s do this.”

You stood, taking a few deep breaths as your bridesmaids and your stylist fussed around you. Your dress was a simple a-line with capped sleeves, in white lace and tulle.  The skirt almost floated around you, and you knew it didn’t matter how much they tugged or pulled at it, it was going to fall exactly as you wanted it to.

Your stylist fixed the flowers into your hair.  You weren’t sure if you were ever going to get used to having a stylist even though you had used one for every red carpet and other official event Tony had dragged you along too.

She adjusts your breasts again, adding a little more tape.  “You are completely spilling out of this dress.”  She said.

You laughed.  “Yeah.  This low cut might have been a mistake in hindsight.”  You agreed.

She laughed too and stood back, looking you over.  “I’ll give your bridesmaids some tape just in case, but I’ll be around too.”

You smiled and thanked her before looking over at your dad.  “How do I look?”

He returned the smile with such love it made your heart swell.  “You look beautiful, darling.  How do you feel?”

“A little queasy.”  You said.

“That’s to be expected.”  Your mother said.  “You ready?”

You took your bouquet of white lilies and magenta orchids, nodded and your father offered you his elbow.  He led you outside and down the boardwalk towards the beach.  You were on a private island in the Bahamas that Tony had booked out completely.  There was no risk of paparazzi, so you strolled, arm-in-arm with your dad, just worrying about the beating of your heart.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?”  Your dad said, patting your hand.  “It would have been so easy for you to try and trap that boy into this.  But instead, you decided to take the hard road because you thought it would protect Owen.  I know because you’re now getting married that you think you made the wrong choice, but you did it for the right reasons.  And you’ve done an amazing job raising him alone.”

Your tears threaten to break and you run your fingertips under your eyelashes to brush them away.  “Thank you, dad.”  You whispered.

He gave your hand a squeeze and kissed your cheek.  The chairs set up on the sand come into view and all eyes turn to you.  The guests are full of family and friends and some of Tony’s work acquaintances.  A quartet of guitars start playing ‘Fluff’ by Black Sabbath and you started walking down the petal-strewn aisle formed between the rows of chairs on the sand.

Tony’s face lit up when he saw you, such a look of pure love etched on his features makes your heart swell.  Beside him stood Owen who had the biggest smile on his face.  Rhodey flanked Owen’s other side, smiling as you approached.  By the time you made it to the wedding arch Tony’s eyes are glistening and you couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him right away.

The celebrant cleared his throat and began.

“Welcome, family, friends and loved ones.  We gather to this beautiful spot today to celebrate the wedding of these two people.  You have all traveled a long way to share this formal commitment they make to one another after a long history between them, and to offer your love and support of the union.  They wanted to share this day with those of you who are nearest and dearest to them.  

“Marriage is perhaps the greatest and most challenging adventure of human relationships. No ceremony can create your marriage; only you can do that through love and patience; through dedication and perseverance; through talking and listening, helping and supporting and believing in each other; through tenderness and laughter; through learning to forgive, learning to appreciate your differences, and by learning to make the important things matter, and to let go of the rest. What this ceremony can do is to witness and affirm the choice you make to stand together as lifemates and partners.”

Owen took center stage to do a reading next and he stood between the two of you nervously.  Tony put his hand on Owen’s shoulder to reassure him, while you took his free hand.

“‘What is REAL?’ asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender before Nana came to tidy the room. ‘Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?’

‘Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When someone loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’

‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.

‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’

‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’

‘ It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’

‘I suppose you are real?’ said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse only smiled.

‘Someone made me Real,’ he said. ‘That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.’”  Owen read.

Owen moved back to his spot and the celebrant spoke again.

“We’ve come to the point of the ceremony where you’re going to say your vows to one another.  But first, to do that, I ask you to remember that love - that is rooted in trust and acceptance - will be the foundation of an abiding and deepening relationship.  No other ties are more tender.   You do not take the vows today out of any religious or civic law, but out of a desire to love and be loved by another person fully, without limitation, then your life will have joy and the home you establish will be a place in which you will both find the direction of your growth, your freedom, and your responsibility.”

Tony took a deep breath and squeezed your hands.  “I take you to be my wife, my constant friend and partner, and my love.

“I vow to honor and you and respect you for all that you are and will become, taking pride in who we are, both separately and together.

“I promise that I am going to challenge you every day.  But that, I will also accept challenges from you.

“Our home will be a sanctuary and a respite for us and the people we love most.

“Above all, I give you my love freely and unconditionally.  I pledge this to you, from the bottom of my heart, for all the days of our lives.”  He said, his eyes glistening.

You smiled and swallowed lifting his hands to your mouth and kissing the back of them.  “I take you to be my husband, my constant friend, and partner and my love.

“I will work to create a bond of honesty, respect and trust; one that withstands the tides of time and change, and grows along with us.

“I will join you and our community in an ongoing struggle to create a world we all want to live in, where love and friendship will be recognized and celebrated in their many forms.

“Above all, I will give you my love freely and unconditionally.  I pledge this to you, from the bottom of my heart, for all the days of our lives.”  You said.

“May I have the rings please?”  The celebrant asked.

Owen fumbled to get them out of his pocket and his hand shook a little as he handed them over to each of you.

“Repeat after me:  I give you this ring, as a daily reminder of my love for you.”

You and Tony both repeated the words as you slid the rings into place.

“By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!  You may kiss each other!”

Tony wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close, dipping you kissed deeply and everyone applauded.

After you did the legal paperwork and took photos you joined the rest of the guests at tables set up under lights a little further down the beach.  Everything felt like a whirlwind.  Dinner was served.  The starters were set up on a grazing table.  There were dips, crackers, and artisan bread, several kinds of cheese, olives, chargrilled vegetables, and sliced deli meats.  As well as oysters, shrimp, arancini, pork belly, rice paper rolls, and other small finger foods to get everyone started.  That was followed by a seated entree of either rack of lamb, herb potato gnocchi, ragu of chorizo, chickpeas, onion and capsicum and chimichurri, fillet of salmon, saffron potato, quinoa, barley, and white crab and avocado mousse, or pistachio-crusted tofu with a prickly pear sauce.   All these dishes that you had spent so long carefully choosing to make sure everyone had something delicious they could eat you could barely even manage to taste because everyone wanted to talk to you, or see your ring or take your photo.  Not to mention that queasy feeling never quite let up.

After dinner speeches were made, first your dad telling stories of you and Tony as kids and repeating how proud he is of you.  Then your bridesmaid talking about the fate that led the two of you to be together now.

Then Owen got up.  “He-hello.”  He said, the nerves showing in the shake of his voice.  “My name is Owen.  I grew up with just my mom.  She’s a really good mom, but I did always have a hope that one day I’d get to meet my dad.  One day, by complete accident, I did.  I didn’t expect he’d be Iron Man though.  He started out by being a really good dad.  Then he was a really good boyfriend to my mom.  She is much happier and more chill with him around.  So I’m sure he’ll be a really good husband too.  I love you both so much.  So cheers to my mom and dad.”

Everyone applauded and glasses were raised.  Owen returned to his seat and you hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head while Tony wrapped his arms around the both of you.

Rhodey got up to speak next and he smirked at Tony.  “Well, I bet none of you expected this to happen right?”  He said, making everyone laugh.  “I know I didn’t.  I met Tony back in college.  He was only 15 then, and already completely out of control.  I remember thinking there was no way this kid was making it to thirty.  The longer I knew him the more sure I was that would be the case.  But he did.  I also assumed he’d just continue being a playboy until he died.  My very own Hugh Hefner.  He’s been through a lot of changes though.  He’s nearly died more times than I’d like to admit.  He started to settle.  To figure out who he is and what he wants with his life.

“I never really believed in fate, but there seemed to be something going on with the way these two people had their lives come together.  If they hadn’t known each other as kids, they might not have had the little tryst that brought Owen here into the world.  But the tryst had to happen while Tony was still his unsettled self.  Owen had to be kept a secret though or they definitely wouldn’t have had a great relationship.  They met back up at the time Tony had begun to settle which was the perfect time.  He was able to step up to be the dad he needed to be.  He was able to open his heart up to be the partner he needed to be.

“And now, here we are.  At Tony Stark’s wedding.  Not drunk at Vegas but planned ahead to this woman who he loves and who kept coming into his life at the perfect times.  They were destined to be.”  Rhodey turned and looked directly at you.  “He is better with you.  Happier.  More at peace.  All the things you might have put down as mistakes or chance, they were meant to happen.  I’m glad he has you.”  He turned back to the crowd.  “So raise a glass to the happy couple.”

There was a cheer of the ‘happy couple and everyone sipped their drinks.  Tony got up and hugged Rhodey before taking the microphone for himself.

“First of all, I’d like to thank you all for traveling this far to be with us.  I mean, I know I paid, so free private island holiday, but still, it really means the world to both of us.”  He said, making your guests laugh.  “I grew up not really knowing what it felt like to be part of a loving family.  So instead I modeled myself after my father.  I drank too hard and I worked too hard.  But I told myself that I wouldn’t inflict myself on anyone else for too long because that wouldn’t be fair to anyone.

“It’s funny how life doesn’t really give a shit about your plans.  Turns out while I was trying to stop myself from ever forming any bonds with anyone I was making a pretty serious bond with someone.  So instead of doing things in the typical everyday order where you meet, fall in love, get married, have a kid.  Or doing things the way I envisioned, just a new conquest every day.  I did them in the way that worked for me.  I had the kid.  I fell in love.  And now, I am married to the women I have a son with.  I finally have the family I didn’t think existed for me.  It’s funny how you can not know how badly you needed something until you finally have it.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of love.  “People always ask me if I was mad when I found out she’d hidden Owen from me.  The answer is; of course, I was.  Who wouldn’t be?  The next question I usually get is how could I forgive that?  That question is easily answered if you’ve ever met her.  She is the most kind, brave, intelligent, amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of kind, brave, intelligent and amazing people.  A lot of you are here today.  Falling in love with her was inevitable.  It was like breathing.  I am excited to call myself her husband.  I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her.  So I’d like you all to raise your glasses for the crazy way life works and to my wife.”

He sat down as everyone toasted and you leaned in and kissed him deeply.  Though your moment didn’t last long.  You were called onto the floor for your first dance.  The band started to play ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica and you and Tony start to move around the dance floor in the routine you’d been practicing for months now.

“You look beautiful, you know?”  Tony said, gazing into your eyes.

“Thank you,”  You said leaning in and brushing your lips over his just briefly.  “Would you say I’m glowing?”

Tony opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again.  You could actually see the wheels turning behind his eyes.  “Are you…?”

You smirked at him and he spun you.  “Pregnant?”  You finished as you span back into his arms.  “That’s right.”

“Honey…”  He said, a smile spreading over his face.  “Oh my god.”  He pulled you into a hard kiss, the music completely forgotten.  You both just stand there kissing.  His hand on your cheek, yours clinging to his back.  The beach might as well be empty except for the two of you.  His lips slowly caress yours until they begin to go numb.  When he pulls back his eyes are glistening with tears.

You reach up and brush one escapee from his cheek.  “You’re such a softie, Stark.”

“Don’t make fun of me.  I’m really happy.”  He said as you start to dance again.

You nuzzled into his neck.  “You think we’ll ever get pregnant because we planned to?”

Tony started laughing.  “Who knows.  Like I said, life doesn’t care about plans. But whatever happens, I’m loving every minute of it.”

~ END ~

[spideychelleforever]

They’d had a good time at the movies.

This was their fourth time at the movies together.

They knew they wouldn’t be able to see each other any closer to Christmas, so a few days out was good enough.

They enjoyed each other’s company. The times MJ had a question she’d lean in close to Peter to ask him, causing both of them to get dizzy and to start smiling. Peter smiled... a lot, MJ remembered, as if she’d forgotten one of her favorite things about the boy she secretly liked. It was... intoxicating. In a good way.

He looked so good in his leather jacket, his curly poofy hair all cute looking, his tight jeans which considering his leather jacket she couldn’t fully appreciate, but the thoughts of him in tight jeans was enough for her.

For her part, Peter thought, she looked really, really pretty, with her own leather jacket and jeans, and her hair in a bun, and her glasses on. It was one of his favorite looks of hers and he felt spoiled as hell getting it tonight on this... date? No, surely it wasn’t a date. Just two best friends going to a movie. Totally, he thought.

Eventually the movie ended and it being late, they had to head home. Peter, ever the gentleman, walked MJ to her car, and MJ, not wanting him to freeze, drove him to his car. And she loved it, just the minute and a half in her car, getting to look to her side to see his smiling face whenever she turned.

She got to his car and stopped, but he didn’t get out. She looked at him curiously, and his warm smiling faded into shy, sheepish smiling. “I... um... got you something...” Peter admitted.

[[MORE]]

MJ couldn’t stop herself from uttering the “awww” that erupted in her belly. And she agreed to park next to him, and watched as he unlocked his car, opened it, and pulled out a small gift bag.

“You didn’t have to get me anything!” She insisted, watching the bag with wide eyes as Peter was busy closing his car door.

“Oh, I know, but hey aw well,” Peter mumbled, hopefully not too nervously, he hoped.

He gently took the bag and put it in her hands. She was already thanking him a million times, when she blurted out “want me to open it right here?”

“Sure,” Peter nervously nodded, before suddenly his breath sharpened, “oh wait wait, it’s um-um it’s delicate!”

MJ looked at him incredulously hearing the word “delicate”, her eyes round... and awed and soft.

“Here, I’ll hold it for you-“ he reached and took it with both his hands... but first, he felt for her hands to make sure he had a hand on it.

The jolts of lightning that ricocheted through both of them once their hands were on each other could not be more exciting. For a split second they returned their gaze to each other and their eyes never wanted to part, until Peter remembered in a quarter second that he was still trying to help her with the gift he got her. MJ longed to have his hands on hers again. They were so soft, and delicate, and gentle, as if he somehow knew she was ready to shatter into a million pieces at any moment in this dream with the boy she was so in love with.

He held the little bag in front of her, and she inhaled slowly as she began to slowly remove the tissue paper.

She first found something thin and rectangular, and pulled out a Blu-Ray copy of the movie they’d seen together on their first movie together. The one that she loved and she knew he didn’t really like, but he still committed to se regardless because she loved it, and he loved to see her happy and enjoying herself.

Normally MJ would snark about how quickly the movie came out for home release because of corporate greed and wishing to cash in on the holiday season. But her smile is breaking the corners of her mouth, so she couldn’t even if she wanted to.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly.

“That’s... that’s not all, either,” Peter meekly smiled.

MJ felt the bag. There was still a weight in it. So she cautiously pulled out a bundle of tissue paper, which covered a few solid layers of even more tissue paper, and finally, something solid started to emerge from the bundle.

MJ stared blankly at what she pulled out, not believing, not even sure she was seeing it.

****

A few months back, during their third movie, Peter and MJ had seen the rerelease of Beauty and the Beast. MJ had smiled widely upon the first appearance of Mrs. Potts. She explained to Peter she adored the character because, quite frankly, Mrs. Potts had been in her family growing up.

To clarify, Beauty and the Beast was always something she watched with her grandmother whenever she’d visit or go to visit her. MJ’s grandmother would have little tea parties, using replicas of the Mrs. Potts set to serve her granddaughter with. MJ would try to make bubbles in her teacup and her grandmother would happily serve her more and a cookie to go with it.

Time marched on, and eventually, the tea parties didn’t happen anymore, and MJ didn’t have anyone to watch Beauty and the Beast with anymore. She still had her loving parents and other family members, but nobody could really help that MJ had lost her Mrs. Potts, nor could anyone replace her.

Not even Peter could fill that void, but if she was going to see Beauty and the Beast on the big screen with anyone, it would be with the boy she was in love with. And she told him after the show most of her story with her grandmother, and the significance of the character to her.

***

And that’s why MJ’s body nearly gave out when she pulled out the hand-painted Mrs. Potts ornament from Peter’s bag.

She stared at it, completely aghast and speechless.

“I... I... I wanted to get you something. You.. told me that this character meant a lot to you, and still means a lot.”

“You remembered that?” MJ whispered.

“Ye-yeah, I did. So I... I looked all over Disney World during my recent trip and eventually, I found it.”

MJ was still silent, staring at the ornament.

“I don’t know what to say,” MJ weakly mumbled.

Finally, she turned her eyes to him, and she nearly collapsed again seeing the smile on Peter’s face. It was warm, understanding, comforting, lovely to behold, so many damn ways to say how much she loved the look he was giving her and what it was screaming at her, now more than ever.

He cared.

She held her gaze at him, not even blinking for a prolonged amount of time.

“I... yeah...” Peter tried to say something as he just plain smiled at her. There were a lot of things he wanted to do at the moment, but for the moment, smiling at MJ in the dim, rosy lights from the theater’s Christmas decorations was enough to sustain him.

“T-thank you,” MJ weakly mumbled. “This was... very, very sweet...”

“You’re welcome,” Peter nodded slowly, happily.

“Now I feel bad... because I hadn’t gotten you anything..”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Peter assured her quickly, “you-you don’t have to get me anything.”

“This... this, is perfect.”

MJ continued to stare at him. Something told her she didn’t need to ask what he meant by “this”.

“I’m gonna... put this in the car, really quick..” MJ nervously laughed.

“Okay,” Peter nodded, and he watched as she unlocked her car, put the bag in her front seat’s console, and locked her car again after shutting the door, in what seemed like a lifetime’s worth of waiting.

Once she was done, she turned back to face him again, looking down at him a little as she’d been doing before.

“Thank you,” she finally whispered, barely able to hide the breaking in her voice.

Peter nodded in response.

He extended his arms to MJ a little.

She did the same.

And they hugged.

Gentle. Firm. Meticulous. All three were words that described how Peter and MJ hugged each other. They weren’t quite wrapping their bodies around each other, they mostly used their arms and upper torsos. But this - this gentle, small hug was even better than any other hug they could’ve had in the moment.

“Merry Christmas, MJ,” Peter softly said, closing his eyes as he enjoyed her embrace.

“Merry Christmas, Peter,” MJ replied, the honey in her voice dripping with every single letter of the three words she said to him.

They pulled apart a little... but Peter kept his hands on MJ’s arms. So MJ mimicked him, so they were still sort of embracing each other.

And they were smiling at each other.

Finally, MJ broke the little period of silence.

“I hope you have an amazing holiday, Peter, you deserve it.”

“I hope you do too, MJ,” Peter whispered.

Their faces were so close to each other’s. They were still in each other’s arms.

And they were still smiling at each other.

And they kept smiling.

But then the world turned blurry. It was lit only by multicolored LED lights and their reflection on a pair of lips and a beautiful face Peter had only dreamed would be this close to his - a face with eyes that closed as MJ slowly, but surely, leaned forward and kissed his lips.

Peter would’ve jumped in shock on a normal day. But right now? He kept it in and closed his eyes too as he rose a little on his tippy toes to meet MJ.

Because she cared.

By their sixth time going to the movies together, they were together at last, even if Christmas had already passed.

This is my official Christmas fic for 2019! Four minutes before December 26th to boot! Love you all and happy holidays!

Tagging; my crush @you-guys--are-losers my love @spiderman-homecomeme my dear @theslytherinterran @spideyxchelle @spideychellefics @spideychelle-romanogers @spideychelle @peterjonesparker @suplosers @here-be-spideychelle @acastleintheair @wandrlust-stark @lovely-iris-west-allen @miranduh1 @seek-rest @tare8chan @sodafizzyart

[starwarsfic]

I.10

Originally posted July 17, 2020

Summary: When the beginnings of a clone army are discovered, the Republic turns against the Jedi who must have commissioned an army to take control.

Details: AOTC AU. Satine/Obi-Wan.

xxxxxx

"Ben," the way Satine says his name jolts Obi-Wan from his memories of Qui-Gon, and he's not surprised when she's suddenly there, in front of him.

After tucking Anakin safely away with the Naberries on Naboo, he'd known he had to make a choice (one teenage boy wasn't so hard to hide, a man along with him became harder, he could not risk the Naberries, Anakin, or Naboo). To stay in Republic space at all was to invite death at every turn--he had no illusions about what happened to most of the Jedi who were arrested, he'd felt too many deaths in the Force over the last few months.

The comm to Satine was short, coded with phrases they'd used while on the run. He'd left for Mandalore without a reply, knowing it was too much risk for both of them.

He'd been approached as soon as he entered the space port, taken through backstreets and a utility entrance, and now he was here, in Satine's home.

"I thought--I thought the worst, before you commed."

Obi-Wan hesitated only a moment before gesturing in offer of an embrace, which she readily took. As proper as she could be, as much as she wanted to ignore her people's traditional culture, she still felt as strongly as any of them.

Holding her tightly, breathing in the scent of her (and the lilies that must have been in her hair before she came to see him), he allowed himself to relax for he first time since the Chancellor's announcement.

"Thank you, for doing this. You--I'm sorry for bringing any danger here, with me."

She scoffed. "You're just returning the favor, now I'm the one who gets to protect you." Her voice softened. "I know what it's like, to have your House threatened. I wish you weren't experiencing this."

After, she helped him settle into a grand room, clean up, and the two of them settled in for a meal. The food was familiar enough to be nostalgic and while Obi-Wan normally didn't have much of an appetite, he found himself eating all of it.

"I know enough about the culture here to pass, I can even fake an accent, I just need the papers to go along with it," he finally said, into a lull in the lighter conversation they'd been holding. "I can head to one of the more transient areas and--"

"Your plan is to hide here?"

She was contained enough to not be easy to read in the Force, but there as a hot edge of determination that made Obi-Wan pause.

"Yes, it won't be long until the Republic starts pressing the outside systems harboring Jedi to turn us over or face consequences."

Not that he knew why. The excuses given, about the clone army that had been found in its nascent stage, was ridiculous. The Jedi Order didn't want an army and definitely not to take over.

"You'll need to hide. Any slip into that Coruscant accent, any show of the Force, and the game would be up." Before he could protest, she reached over to him, placing a hand over his. "Ben...when we...when you left. What were you thinking?"

She knew, of course she knew. She'd been too familiar with the weight of duty to say anything about it, before.

"...I would have stayed, if you asked."

"You couldn't, because of the Order. Because Jedi can't follow their hearts. But...I don't want to use what we have out of cynicism, I don't want to taint it, but to anyone who learned our story, wouldn't this look like the perfect opportunity?"

He'd dwelt on it for two days as Satine handled her duties and he spoke to her people. Even before he had accepted, they were outfitting him in a wardrobe of expensive Sundari clothing and briefing him on recent politics and policies.

Satine thought it was inevitable. Obi-Wan suspected it really was.

They kicked it off with an official announcement, that included Obi-Wan having to stand up on holocam and say he was no longer a Jedi. It was infuriating, but he didn't know what else to do. Maybe other Jedi would come, knowing they'd be safe, and they could quietly continue the Order until they could become public again.

Not that Obi-Wan would be doing that with them....To save others, he'd have to break some of the most basic tenants of the Order. He couldn't just pretend to be with Satine, he would be, he'd let himself get so attached he wouldn't be able to return to being a Jedi.

His announcement was broadcast throughout Mandalore and picked up, of course, by Republic news. He, Satine, and her speech writers had spun a tale of star-crossed lovers, duty, and how Obi-Wan was finally 'free.'

The Mandalorians ate it up, of course.

So they dated. Or maybe it was more like they courted. Someone, somewhere, dug up a few records of his mission to protect her. He found himself doing activities just for the press, just to make his story more believable (to protect Satine, to protect Mandalore).

Not that it was a smooth process. Not all the New Mandalorians liked him, even as he hid his lightsaber in special pockets and layers, because he wouldn't fully commit to pacifism (his people were out there being murdered, he couldn't swear he'd never find a way to help that could include violence).

A trip to Keldabe in an attempt to mend more ties ended up with him accidentally using Mando'a (blessedly not caught by anyone but the residents and a few of Satine's people), which somehow got around the city enough that the more traditional Mandalorians thought he was on their side.

Which was hilarious to Satine's people up to a point, and that point was Jango Fett's reappearance and claim to still be Mand'alor.

"He has the Republic's backing, no matter how well they're trying to hide it. Because of me," Obi-Wan hissed when they dug deeper into what Fett had been up to all these years.

"You know you're not to blame, the Republic is becoming more expansionist. They want Mandalore to submit to their rule and are using Fett as a way to get that."

"I can't believe he'd give up Mandalore just to rule it."

That had caused Satine to look thoughtful and the very next day that was the speculation across the holonews networks--that to follow Fett was to join the Republic. It effectively squashed much of his support, especially since Satine decided desperate measures were necessary and sent Obi-Wan to talk to many of the traditional hold-outs. He--his attitude towards fighting, his knowledge of Mando'a--was a sign that maybe if they kept pushing, the New Mandalorians would compromise on something.

Obi-Wan felt bad about perpetuating the lie, but he owed Satine too much not to help her. And he'd been trained to play politics, even if that was from a Jedi perspective.

He'd been on comm silence for much of a year when he finally heard from Anakin. It wasn't what he'd been expecting and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach (a warning hum in the Force) as Anakin said the Chancellor had pardoned him and any other Padawan or initiate who renounced the Jedi.

Anakin thought it meant that Obi-Wan should return, that since Obi-Wan had wanted to leave as a Padawan but been forced to stay (and, oh, how the holonet had twisted his story after it had been released) and was a hero of the Chancellor's own planet, that he could get a pardon, too.

But there was something wrong, Obi-Wan knew it. Anakin seemed happy, healthy, but...even with their training bond stretched to near-nothing, he was unsettling.

A part of him felt awful doing it, but he turned down the offer. He used his relationship with Satine as an excuse, so it would not be taken by the Chancellor as some sort of insult.

The Chancellor who lied about the Jedi, ordered them destroyed, and was trying to get control of Mandalore.

Obi-Wan had a sinking feeling he knew why, knew what was behind all of this, and could only pray that Anakin could resist the Dark better than most of their lineage had.

xxxxxx

A/N: For the AU verse, basically someone investigated Sifo-Dyas' path way earlier, the clone army wasn't at all ready (nor was the Separatists or the political turmoil set up well enough) and so Palpatine manipulated things to look like the Jedi meant to basically take over the Republic.

[mneiai]

Star Wars AU Drabble

When the beginnings of a clone army are discovered, the Republic turns against the Jedi who must have commissioned an army to take control. 

Obi-Wan/Satine.

AO3 Link

"Ben," the way Satine says his name jolts Obi-Wan from his memories of Qui-Gon, and he's not surprised when she's suddenly there, in front of him.

After tucking Anakin safely away with the Naberries on Naboo, he'd known he had to make a choice (one teenage boy wasn't so hard to hide, a man along with him became harder, he could not risk the Naberries, Anakin, or Naboo). To stay in Republic space at all was to invite death at every turn--he had no illusions about what happened to most of the Jedi who were arrested, he'd felt too many deaths in the Force over the last few months.

The comm to Satine was short, coded with phrases they'd used while on the run. He'd left for Mandalore without a reply, knowing it was too much risk for both of them.

He'd been approached as soon as he entered the space port, taken through backstreets and a utility entrance, and now he was here, in Satine's home.

"I thought--I thought the worst, before you commed."

Obi-Wan hesitated only a moment before gesturing in offer of an embrace, which she readily took. As proper as she could be, as much as she wanted to ignore her people's traditional culture, she still felt as strongly as any of them.

Holding her tightly, breathing in the scent of her (and the lilies that must have been in her hair before she came to see him), he allowed himself to relax for he first time since the Chancellor's announcement.

"Thank you, for doing this. You--I'm sorry for bringing any danger here, with me."

She scoffed. "You're just returning the favor, now I'm the one who gets to protect you." Her voice softened. "I know what it's like, to have your House threatened. I wish you weren't experiencing this."

After, she helped him settle into a grand room, clean up, and the two of them settled in for a meal. The food was familiar enough to be nostalgic and while Obi-Wan normally didn't have much of an appetite, he found himself eating all of it.

"I know enough about the culture here to pass, I can even fake an accent, I just need the papers to go along with it," he finally said, into a lull in the lighter conversation they'd been holding. "I can head to one of the more transient areas and--"

"Your plan is to hide here?"

She was container enough to not be easy to read in the Force, but there as a hot edge of determination that made Obi-Wan pause.

"Yes, it won't be long until the Republic starts pressing the outside systems harboring Jedi to turn us over or face consequences."

Not that he knew why. The excuses given, about the clone army that had been found in its nascent stage, was ridiculous. The Jedi Order didn't want an army and definitely not to take over.

"You'll need to hide. Any slip into that Coruscant accent, any show of the Force, and the game would be up." Before he could protest, she reached over to him, placing a hand over his. "Ben...when we...when you left. What were you thinking?"

She knew, of course she knew. She'd been too familiar with the weight of duty to say anything about it, before.

"...I would have stayed, if you asked."

"You couldn't, because of the Order. Because Jedi can't follow their hearts. But...I don't want to use what we have out of cynicism, I don't want to taint it, but to anyone who learned our story, wouldn't this look like the perfect opportunity?"

He'd dwelt on it for two days as Satine handled her duties and he spoke to her people. Even before he had accepted, they were outfitting him in a wardrobe of expensive Sundari clothing and briefing him on recent politics and policies.

Satine thought it was inevitable. Obi-Wan suspected it really was.

They kicked it off with an official announcement, that included Obi-Wan having to stand up on holocam and say he was no longer a Jedi. It was infuriating, but he didn't know what else to do. Maybe other Jedi would come, knowing they'd be safe, and they could quietly continue the Order until they could become public again.

Not that Obi-Wan would be doing that with them....To save others, he'd have to break some of the most basic tenants of the Order. He couldn't just pretend to be with Satine, he would be, he'd let himself get so attached he wouldn't be able to return to being a Jedi.

His announcement was broadcast throughout Mandalore and picked up, of course, by Republic news. He, Satine, and her speech writers had spun a tale of starcrossed lovers, duty, and how Obi-Wan was finally 'free.'

The Mandalorians ate it up, of course.

So they dated. Or maybe it was more like they courted. Someone, somewhere, dug up a few records of his mission to protect her. He found himself doing activities just for the press, just to make his story more believable (to protect Satine, to protect Mandalore).

Not that it was a smooth process. Not all the New Mandalorians liked him, even as he hid his lightsaber in special pockets and layers, because he wouldn't fully commit to pacifism (his people were out there being murdered, he couldn't swear he'd never find a way to help that could include violence).

A trip to Keldabe in an attempt to mend more ties ended up with him accidentally using Mando'a (blessedly not caught by anyone but the residents and a few of Satine's people), which somehow got around the city enough that the more traditional Mandalorians thought he was on their side.

Which was hilarious to Satine's people up to a point, and that point was Jango Fett's reappearance and claim to still be Mand'alor.

"He has the Republic's backing, no matter how well they're trying to hide it. Because of me," Obi-Wan hissed when they dug deeper into what Fett had been up to all these years.

"You know you're not to blame, the Republic is becoming more expansionist. They want Mandalore to submit to their rule and are using Fett as a way to get that."

"I can't believe he'd give up Mandalore just to rule it."

That had caused Satine to look thoughtful and the very next day that was the speculation across the holonews networks--that to follow Fett was to join the Republic. It effectively squashed much of his support, especially since Satine decided desperate measures were necessary and sent Obi-Wan to talk to many of the traditional hold-outs. He--his attitude towards fighting, his knowledge of Mando'a--was a sign that maybe if they kept pushing, the New Mandalorians would compromise on something.

Obi-Wan felt bad about perpetuating the lie, but he owed Satine too much not to help her. And he'd been trained to play politics, even if that was from a Jedi perspective.

He'd been on comm silence for much of a year when he finally heard from Anakin. It wasn't what he'd been expecting and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach (a warning hum in the Force) as Anakin said the Chancellor had pardoned him and any other Padawan or initiate who renounced the Jedi.

Anakin thought it meant that Obi-Wan should return, that since Obi-Wan had wanted to leave as a Padawan but been forced to stay (and, oh, how the holonet had twisted his story after it had been released) and was a hero of the Chancellor's on planet, that he could get a pardon, too.

But there was something wrong, Obi-Wan knew it. Anakin seemed happy, healthy, but...even with their training bond stretched to near-nothing, he was unsettling.

A part of him felt awful doing it, but he turned down the offer. He used his relationship with Satine as an excuse, so it would not be taken by the Chancellor as some sort of insult.

The Chancellor who lied about the Jedi, ordered them destroyed, and was trying to get control of Mandalore.

Obi-Wan had a sinking feeling he knew why, knew what was behind all of this, and could only pray that Anakin could resist the Dark better than most of their lineage had.

Notes: For the AU verse, basically someone investigated Sifo-Dyas' path way earlier, the clone army wasn't at all ready (nor was the Separatists or the political turmoil set up well enough) and so Palpatine manipulated things to look like the Jedi meant to basically take over the Republic.