#there are good moments in this campaign. I want to make that very clear to people

[seraphimnoir]

don't call me | S. REID

summary: spencer finds himself on the verge of relapsing, surrounded by symbols of neglect and chaos around him — in a moment of desperation he calls his only hope.

warnings: mentions of spencer's addiction, betrayal, non-bau!reader, spencer is on break(?), fem!reader, reader only referred to as 'her' & 'she'

genre: angst

authors note: first fic wooeeee yeah! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. the ending kinda sucks but WHATEVER!!!!!!!! by da way not proofread (may have grammatical errors LOL)

There were piles of brown snow on the pavement, scattered by the cars, but on Saturday at noon it rained, the drops immediately froze, and the whole city became a frozen palace. Spencer went out to buy newspapers at the little booth next to the dimly lit café, he narrowed his eyes as he realized that he didn't want to go home — to the crumbs on the table, to the unmade bed, the coffee-drenched Physics textbooks, the scattered mail and the unfinished note for his mother. He jumped over an ice block on the sidewalk with newspaper in hand and made his way into the café. At this hour it was empty, only the bearded man behind the counter and the what looked like a ten year old Siamese cat were present.

He made his way to the counter and cleared his throat, gathering the pennies from his bag to pay. "Black coffee, please." he said as he looked at the man. The barista silently nodded as he put in place the coffee cup he was cleaning, his eyes fluttering towards the coffee machine. Spencer placed the coins at the counter as he waited for the coffee.

He looked at his watch. Seemingly lost in thought for a second — but his mind quickly rebooted as the carton cup of steaming black coffee was placed Infront of him. He gave a weak smile and took in the cup carefully. He didn't wait for the change, nor the receipt. He lunged out of the cafe. He looked at the cup of coffee, a look of disgust overcame him as he realized what he had ordered. He never drank black coffee, it was always too bitter for him. But today he hoped that the dark chocolate charcoal would drown out the urge to get his fix.

He passed by an old black phonebooth with plastered obituaries, campaign posters and scribbled graffiti. He coughed almost silently and looked at the numbers on it, some of them almost invisible. He picked up the receiver and dialed the six digits. She picked up on the third ring. "Good day," he said. "is this the library?" he continued, his voice calm and collected.

"Who's this? Spencer, is that you?" she said, as she propped up her receiver with her shoulder, her hands busy with the stack of papers.

Spencer was silent. He shifted the receiver to his left hand, took a sip of the bitter coffee and sighed. "Where are you calling from?" She asked, not a tinge of emotion in her voice.

"From the city" Spencer answered and squeezed his cup a little tighter. He looked down at his feet, his hairs drifting to his forehead. She were silent, only the clicking of the pen and the papers could be heard. "Are you here?" he stuttered out. A sigh escaped her lips "Yes, I'm here."

"Please, let's see eachother." his voice guilty and full of desperation. the grip on the cup and the hot liquid inside made his hand burn slightly. "Now?" she questioned, her voice monotone.

"Now." he continued. And he realized why he shouldn't have called. If she told him "no", he would not bear it. He had lasted so long with no word from her, but now he was going to break down. He moved the receiver slightly away. Her voice came to his ears very far away. "What did you say?" he asked nervously. the wind hit his neck, making the strands of hair on it stand up.

"Spencer, we cannot. Don't call me again, okay?" she said, her voice hitting the last word. Spencer stood at the photobooth — dumbfounded, as if time had stopped. The awkward silence was followed up by "Hello? Are you there?"

"Okay," Spencers voice cracked. He hung up the phone. The street was brown and dirty. The facades of the buildings were wet. The buzzing of the city continued. Taxis were waiting down at the intersection. He imagined that a huge bouquet was in his hand and not a — now almost cold coffee, he imagined that it was a summers day, and he was going to her house — like he used to do after he came back from a case. He roamed the streets as he finished his coffee, throwing away the carton cup in an almost overflowing trashcan, his mind re-enacting different memories. But the pulsing in his veins and the voice on the back of his head couldn't stop thinking of the needle — the one thing that could save him from his misery.

His hand came in contact with the door handle, his keys wiggling vigorously in the keylock. He entered his apartment and took off the purple wool scarf that he threw on the couch, the bag was left on the table. He sighed and stood upright by the window and looked out. It was dusk, it had started to snow again.

His heart sank further. The empty ache that lingered deep within him roared harder. The craving that refused to be ignored — it called out his name. He sank to the floor, clutching his cardigan as tears began falling down.

The snow outside continued to shed, the streets soon were hugged by a new icy embrace of the snow. The buzzing on the streets continued. The world didn't end today.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Mother for a Son

Summary: As Aemond leaves for a campaign at Storms End, he leaves his very pregnant wife struggle to bring their child into the world, suffering the consequences | Mini-Series Masterlist

Warnings: Childbirth, Death, Major Angst, tbh this is pure angst and nothing else to it I just like making myself sad, sorry

You hissed in pain as you tried to stand up straight, one hand instinctively resting on your lower back. A deep inhale didn't help matters either, but you felt maybe it was better than trying to soldier through the tightness. One hand was clamped around the handle of the chair, feet shuffling to go to sit in front of the fire and as you slumped into the chair, finally feeling the relief and pressure off your feet, your hand rested on the large bump on your belly. The infant inside as if feeling the touch of its mother kicked back, hurting slightly but it still bought a smile to your face.

"I wish you would not take your time, little one" you muttered, eyes wandering to the crackling fire, its heat almost soothing you through your thin nightdress. These days you had no use for heavy evening dresses, the past few weeks you had been confined to your nightdress exclusively as the pregnancy progressed to the end.

Your eyes fluttered open as your felt his hand on your swollen belly, your own lifting up to hold his arm lovingly, eyes meeting his lilac one. He looked down at you with such admiration and your heart swelled with love feeling his hands rub the bump.

He was dressed in his leathers to ride, braced for the cold that the storm outside would no doubt bring. Despite this, he knelt at your side, taking your hand to bring tenderly to his lips, peppering small kisses to your fingers, your palm and eventually on your unborn child. Your first child.

Your fingers delicately rubbed across his cheek, the only sound was the fire crackling and he wanted nothing more than to just stay with you, take care of you, for he knew how much pain you were in so late into the pregnancy.

"Must you go" you ask your husband. His eye opens to meet you again, a soft, sad look on his features.

"I must" he answered sadly, seeing your response, "I wish I did not have to, especially seeing the pain you are in, gevie ābrazȳrys"

You chuff at his words, "I do not feel beautiful. I feel like I am going to burst and every time they kick it hurts tremendously" you answer. Aemond smiled and looked back at the bump,

"Iksan qrīdrughagon, gaomagon daor ōdrikagon aōha muña, zaldrītsos" he says, making you smile.

The baby seemed to respond, a small kick appearing in his direction, earning a quiet laugh from you, "They heard you. Blood of the dragon indeed"

He seemed to linger by your side for a moment, taking your hands in his, a worried expression was clear on his features.

"I worry about you, my love. This is our first child, and you seem to be in such pain"

"Aemond…" you respond, touched by his concern. A concern that most husbands would not have for their wives. You reached out to his face, thumb grazing over the bottom of his scar. His lids seemed to flutter at your touch before meeting you again, as if in such bliss. "…my love, do not worry. Your mother has an army of midwives and she herself has had four children, I am in good hands"

There was a pause as you sat up in the chair, "Our child gives me strength, if they are anything like their father" you smile and so does he. Aemond seems to find this answer satisfactory as he leans up and gives you a tender kiss to your lips, feeling the warmth from your face on his. His hand rests on your jaw, pulling you further towards him as if wanting more, making your smile against his kiss. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, eyes focussed down on you,

"Please be careful" you say and he nods. He turned to leave, his hand lingering on yours for a moment before doing so, almost not wanting to leave, whether it be a small voice in his head telling him or not. He looked back once at the door, relishing the view he had before him. His pregnant wife, sat in front of the fire, smiling back lovingly at him. He nodded to you, muttering 'my lady wife' before leaving.

You felt a heaviness in your chest as he left, more in the hope that he would not be reckless once out on Vhagar. He could so often get carried away, you thought to yourself. Outside, the wind howled loudly and you could see the dark grey clouds in the sky run across the sky quickly, the rain creating rivers, you had not seen a storm this bad in King's Landing for a while. One could not tell if it was morning or evening, it was so dark with clouds.

A day had passed in King's Landing, but nobody would have known it. The storm raged on and on, the sun had yet to make an appearance and you had not heard a word from your husband. You stood at the window, hands tied together with anxiety, looking out at all the trees barren of their leaves, the wind having stripped them of their greenery. You took a deep breath, a kick from the baby landing straight on your bladder and you quickly took a seat at the window.

"Heed your father's warning, little one" you say, one hand rubbing over the large bump, remembering the way Aemond had spoken to the unborn child.

A knock at the door broke you out of this trance, Ser Criston Cole stepped in, "Yes?" you inquire.

"Queen Alicent, Princess"

You nodded and he stepped aside to allow the Queen to enter your chambers, a worried look on her features. She had her hair down as if to go to sleep but was dressed with a silk green robe over her, hands clasped together she offered a small smile which you reciprocated.

"You look tired, my dear" she said, coming to sit beside you once the door had closed. Your hand was still supporting the bump as if the weight was pulling down on you, you nodded.

"It is so, your Grace. I do not sleep at all with the weight of the baby" you answer, letting out a small groan of pain.

"I am sure the worry for my son is not helping your condition" she said, this is when your eyes met. You nodded sadly, looking out the window now.

"I worry about him, your Grace. Although you must also, I imagine. He is your son" you offer her a smile.

"Yes…" she trails off, "…I remember the day he was born. He was an easy labour, an easy child, seldom crying"

This made you smile, of course he would have been a good child. As if the gods had formed him themselves, you could only wish the same for your child.

Alicent had always been good to you and she was ecstatic to find you with child many moons ago. Of course, she already had grandchildren from Halaena and Aegon, but this time it was different, she was more attentive, almost overly so. Aemond had been the same when you informed him, excited but restrained somewhat. He often ran you baths to soothe your aching body, dressing you in moments of weakness, you could not have wished for a better and more attentive husband. His kindness astounded you. 

You went to say something, when a pain hit you in a new place, sending a shock of pain through your hips. You moaned out in pain, louder this time, clutching your thighs and leaving marks where your fingers had been.

"What is wrong, my dear?" you heard Alicent say, but her voice was muffled through the wall of blurred pain you were still experiencing. That had been different, you thought, and your mind raced with the possibilities. The pregnancy was nearing its end and this was the thought that worried you the most, your hands began to shake in fear.

"Something is wrong…" you said quietly, so hushed thar Alicent had not heard you as you starting to slowly kneel to the ground, one hand in front to stabilise yourself.

Alicent herself got on the floor in front of you so as to hear you better, one hand placed at your arm in comfort. Your hand brushed your thigh and you pulled it from beneath your nightdress to find that your entire palm was bright red with blood, Alicent was now silent, taking one wide look at your hand and then into your eyes.

Your eyes had welled up with tears, some for the pain and some for the fear, but you met Alicent's eyes.

"Something is wrong" you said more clearly now.

The wave of pain began just then and like a military operation, midwives surrounded you, setting down dark towels on the bed to place you on top. As you were laid on the bed, the pain worsened and you kept screaming out with every contraction, the midwives and Alicent attempting to calm you down without any help whatsoever.

Now, the room had filled up with a dozen people, two of which were the Hightowers huddled in the corner. Alicent's face was red with worry and he kept rubbing her hands together, speaking in low voices with her father,

"This is not usual" Alicent said to her father, he shook his head, eyes every now and then landing on you reeling in pain on the bed, "even with four children, father, I know that this should not happen"

"Has word been sent to Aemond?" he asked, Alicent nodded her head quickly, "What has been said"

"That the Princess has begun her labours"

"Good, it would be best to leave the in-depth details"

You shook your head, wanting the pain to just cease, muttering under your breath Make it stop, make it stop. You pulled yourself to your knees weakly, grasping the bed frame, being upright making the pain slightly less unbearable. You could feel the pressure of the baby trying to make its way out, this feeling remained through the next contraction.

"Where is my husband!" you scream out, Alicent is at your side immediately, holding your hand,

"He is on his way back, my dear, you are doing brilliantly" she said, you held her hand tightly. Through your blurry vision you saw Halaena had entered the room, perhaps to offer some support, but the thought left your head as quickly as it had entered as another quick contraction ripped through you like a dagger.

"I need him, I need him now. Something is wrong, Alicent…" all pleasantries of titles were thrown out of the window as the pain seared through you, like a hot poker had been pressed harder and harder into you.

"You are doing well, my dear, I know it is painful but you just have to push" she said. You swear you could hear the wood splinter as you grabbed the bedframe again, fingernails dug deep in it to alleviate the pain inside your body. The midwife sat behind you pulled your shift to your waist to examine.

The midwife slowly approached Otto in the corner, "She is not progressing quick enough, we must consider the possibilities"

Otto looked sadly at Alicent, who as if knowing exactly what they had been talking about, turned back to you, placing a cloth to your forehead, face and chest now shining with sweat.

"Listen to me, my dear. You have to push for us, okay?" she instructed, motherly instincts now kicking in.

"An eye for an eye…" Halaena said quietly from the corner, nobody having heard her, "…a mother for a son…"

"I can't…" you reply, breathless, "…it hurts…please…where is my husband…" you ask in between breaths, contractions ramping up again. You looked over to Alicent, tears streaming down your face, her look was fierce now. She knew the pain of a child, she knew how the will wavered during labour and this knowledge seemed to spur her on to support you.

"You can" she simply said and you took a deep breath, pinning your eyes shut and pushing with all your might. Various hands reached at you, some in joy at finally seeing the head of the child you had so long laboured for finally appear. You gripped Alicent's hand tightly, taking in another deep breath to push once more.

"Just a little more, Princess!"

With one final scream and push, you felt the baby vacate you and an empty feeling dawned upon you. You found you were still gripping the bedframe hard, face still shining with sweat, body still shaking.

"Congratulations, Princess. You have a very healthy boy" once of the midwives said as they cleaned your baby. You heard his cries but they never registered, you still felt completely dissociated, dizzy…

Your back met the back of the bed, finally being able to lay down after so much toil, Alicent had a sad look on her face, still dabbing your forehead, "Well done" she said quietly.

Your heavy eyes landed on the midwife next to you, who was handing you the small bundle which your weak arms gratefully took. You looked down at the tiny human in your arms, with little wisps of hair on top. The child was barely bothered about the trouble it had caused and had its thumb in its mouth, breathing quietly. You could not help but smile down at the child, your finger running over his cheek slowly, they were flushed with the loveliest colour.

Aemond would be thrilled, you thought.

You looked up to Alicent, she was craned over, doting on the child already, "He is wonderful, my dear. Well done"

You smiled weakly, eyes fluttering closed, "I feel…tired…" you say weakly. Alicent furrowed her brows, seeing your face go pale slightly and arms go weak. Her eyes found the sheets and pulled them back, only to find the entire bed soaked in blood.

"Get the maesters, now!" Alicent said, but your senses were too blurred to notice what she had said, or how you were feeling. You could not explain how you felt exactly, there was pain to be sure, but it was disappearing second by second and a warm feeling was replaced. Feeling weaker by the second, Alicent quickly took the child from your arms, your hand instinctively went to reach out.

"Where is…Aemond…" you ask, his name ghosting on your lips over and over as midwives rushed out and maesters rushed in. But you barely noticed as your vision faded, smiling as you imagine Aemond with his child.

The next few hours were a blur for the Red Keep. Alicent had confined herself to her own chambers, sitting disassociated in her armchair, the child now with the maids for care. Opposite her sat her father, Otto, who was also absent-mindedly staring into the fire. The storm had finally passed, leaving just the dark night sky behind, scattered with stars and the big bright moon.

Alicent bit her lip to stop herself from crying, fingers grasping the arms of her chair tightly.

At the door, Ser Criston, "The Prince is back, my Queen" he simply said. With lightning speed, Alicent raced up, Criston Cole not far behind, briskly walking through the Red Keep's corridors to meet her son before anyone else.

At the end of the hallway, Aemond had rounded the corner, looking wet through and heavy. He met his mother's eyes, but he seemed vacant and Alicent felt her heart panic, did he already know? She thought to herself.

She ran to her son, taking his cold hands in hers. His mouth hung slightly open as if to say something, "Aemond, what happened? You are freezing" she said hurriedly. It took a few moments for Aemond himself to have the courage to face his mother, to find the right words for what he had done…

"Mother…" he finally replied. Alicent was surprised when she found his eyes, he looked as if he was going to cry, his face was wind struck, hair still damp and his voice was barely a whisper, "…I fear I must tell you…the terrible thing I have done…" he said.

Alicent gripped her son's hands tighter, behind her Halaena had stopped to stand next to Criston Cole, this made Aemond's mind rush slightly, why were so many people anticipating his return…unless they knew.

"Do not worry about that now, let us get you warm-"

"I lost control" he simply interrupted, Alicent fell silent, furrowing her brows.

"What do you mean?"

"I was just trying to frighten him…I…." he trailed off, his eyes found the floor, a spot of rain fell down his face.

"Aemond, what happened" Alicent asked, just wanting a straight answer.

Aemond could no longer process it and fell to his knees, Alicent held his head against her as if in protection of her large son, "Luke…"

A wave of realisation hit Alicent at what he meant and she looked behind her at Criston and her daughter, Halaena was already looking down muttering to herself, a mother for a son, a mother for a son. It was only here that Alicent had realised what Halaena actually meant and her face went white as a sheet, her hand still being grasped by her son, kneeling on the floor.

After gathering some part of himself, Aemond stood finally, allowing the servants to take his soaked coat away from him.

"Where is my wife?" he asked quietly, taking a breath. There is was, the fated question. Alicent was silent again and almost stood stock still in her place before realising Aemond was walking down the corridor to his chambers, where he knew his wife would be.

"Aemond!" Alicent shouted after him, "Aemond, stop!"

Ser Criston joined in the chase, going to push Aemond back out the room as soon as he had entered, attempting to shield him from this hurt. But it had been too late.

His eyes scanned the room for a moment, there were many maesters and maids in the room before him. The maids all paused to give the Prince a curtsey before resuming their duties, before continuing to wash the blood stained sheets in the pink water before them. The sheer sight of this horrified Aemond, making his heart sink into his stomach.

Criston's hand had been on his chest the entire time, "My Prince, it is best you leave" he said, making eye contact with Alicent who was standing by the door, a sad expression on her face.

Aemond did not violently break free, but simply stepped forward into the room. His face was still, mouth slightly agape as he saw a bloodied figure laying in the bed, but still not confirming who it may have been.

The maester who was hovering over the figure turned to the Prince, "My Prince, please, we are preparing the body-"

Aemond had ignored everyone and continued over to the bed. His breath died in his throat when he saw you, his wife, the entire bottom half of the bed caked in dark blood. You lay there on the bed, eyes slightly opened and your bloodied hand reaching out for nothing, Aemond had realised now he had fallen to his knees on the floor before the bed.

"No…" is all he said, his hands shakily reached out to take your outstretched one, surprised by the still and coldness of it. He felt the hot tears begin to spill down his face as he looked upon yours, "….my love, please…"

He could not help the feeling of guilt that spread in his chest, consuming his heart. Whether he liked it or not, he had become a murderer, a kinslayer, in a mere night. He had taken away someone's son, so his son took away his wife.

He felt the desire to avenge your death, but the tears flowed quicker with the knowledge that nobody was responsible for your death, except for him. He knew women often succumbed to blood loss and infections from childbirth, but thought that because of your pure soul and the unwavering love you had for him, surely you would be exempt from such a cruel fate.

 Aemond did not leave you the entire evening until forced to by the maesters and the sisters.

How the gods could be cruel, he thought, when confined to his own room. He had not even dared look at his newborn son, fearing he may inflict some kind of doom on him also. Or maybe he feared he might push guilt onto the baby for your death. He had what any noble gentleman wanted, a son. But he did not feel any richer from this and was instead consumed by loss for weeks.

When he eventually spurred up the courage to see his son for the first time, he could not shift the ghost of your face that was visible in the child's features. He only felt empty. Like a part of his soul had been ripped from him. Perhaps this part of him would be lost forever.

Alicent never saw her son again as she knew him before.

[collectivecloseness]

Beautiful Swan

Eddie Munson x reader

(Summary: When Hellfire starts a fun little game of ‘what animal does everyone look like?’ your self-esteem plummets to the floor. But your best friend and crush, Eddie, can tell. And he’s there to not only defend you, but make sure he’s around to help pick you back up <3. Tw: negative body image. Reuploaded from my ao3. 9.4K)

You’d finally finished today’s session. Eddie decided the cliffhanger he’d brought up was the best place to leave it, the worst for you and the rest of Hellfire unfortunately. But that meant you guys had a few minutes where you could all just chat and hang out.

Eddie waddled up to you, nudging his shoulder against your own to get your attention, and when you looked to him, all he did was smile at you. You chuckled smally back, rubbing your shoulder against his playfully too.

You loved the fact that when Eddie enrolled you in his campaign, he pulled out the seat right next to his for you, on your very first day. Pushing it in with a genuinely charming smile as you sat, and a short bow of his head, as you thanked him. Gareth seemed to get a pencil thrown at his head right after that, although you were too busy starting at Eddie’s pretty smile he was giving just to you. So you guess he’s the one who lost his chair.

It wasn’t just his genuine and effortless charm that made you fall in love with Eddie Munson though, even before he was your best friend, although that certainly added to it. From the moment you saw Eddie, you were completely enamoured. Not just romantically, but he had such an aura around him it just made you want to be someone close to him till the end of time. You’d love, more than anything, for Eddie to ask you out. On a proper date, not just asking his friend to chill at the arcade or smoke weed in his empty trailer. Although you still enjoyed every interaction with him. Him asking you to do those as his girlfriend would be a great day! But it wasn’t going to happen.

Even though Eddie didn’t see much about himself, you tried to talk him up, as much as you could, even if sometimes it fell into the not completely platonic category, you would tell him, because he deserved to know every good thing about himself. You truly saw how amazing Eddie was. And while you two were best friends... you feared there was no way in hell, he would ever even consider thinking about you like that.

Not that you’d hold that against him! Of course not! He didn’t owe you anything, he was perfectly fine being attracted to who he was attracted to. But you sometimes just wished, you looked a little less like yourself, because now and again your gut just whispered to you all the parts of your body that made you unlovable to another person. Especially someone you admired so much, like Eddie Munson.

Eddie nudged you with his hip this time. And a laugh seeped from his bitten smirk as you shoved his arm with your hand, easily regaining his balance but using your shoulders to do so. You giggled back, offering your help by steadying his own shoulders, and letting go once he was on his feet. Eddie however, did not let go of your eyes. Still grinning, his body turned to give you his full attention. “How was today’s session princess?” His hand coyly flipped half over his grin, holding his elbow, like he was rocked with anticipation for your answer.

Your character wasn’t even royalty. And you refused to ever play the damsel in distress role, in a group filled with only boys. But Eddie still called you that pet name. And it made you smitten every damn single time. You at least presumed, it was a dnd reference.

“Was I an... adequate dungeon master?” He leant closer to you but didn’t whisper it. You sucked your lips in even though you made it clear you were smiling, just trying not to giggle, with the way Eddie made you feel. “Well... adequate may be a grand understatement, my noble dungeon master.”

Eddie’s fist skyrocketed to his chest, eyes closed as he let out a grateful sound. “You’re too kind sweet princess! For I surely would’ve been strewn in twain, if you thought any less of me.”

Eddie never gave up the silly voices, and he only peeked open one eye to see if you were amused, teeth gleaming in glee as he saw your cheeks raise as you laughed. He winked that open eye at you, before dropping his hands to his sides.

You went to swat at his chest teasingly again, but Eddie easily brushed away your hand with his own, smirking at his easy victory over you. His smirk soon transitioned into a smile, and his lips opened as if to say something else. Until Mike spoke up loudly.

“This is boring! Let’s play a game.”

Eddie didn’t even take his eyes off you before dramatically rolling them. You giggled, hiding it in your hand, but at the sound Eddie’s slumped shoulders bounced right back up, and he beamed at you proudly.

“Aw. Do the babies all need to play games to stay happy?” Gareth teased, flicking Mike’s forehead, who then bat at the band members hand like an angry cat.

“Dude shut up. You’re making us look like babies!” Dustin smally whacked Mike, Lucas agreeing. You laughed a little into Eddie, who’s shoulder was still close to yours and not going anywhere. The poor freshmen did still have to fight a little bit to get taken seriously sometimes. Although no one would debate that Eddie held the most power in this room.

“Let’s say what animal everyone looks like!” Jeff smoothly input, pivoting immediately around to his friend. “Gareth is naked mole rat.”

“A WHAT?!” All of the boys erupted into laughter, expect for Gareth who was hitting Jeff with a book. Even Eddie’s chorus rang out behind you and you loved that sound. But oh God.

A cold slimy feeling ran down your throat and seemed to climb up your spine in canon. This game would not be for you. You know you struggle with self-esteem issues, you realise that. Sometimes you felt bad even being in Eddie’s Hellfire logo shirt. It could feel too skin tight and suffocating, nothing to do with Eddie’s printing, but your own nauseating feeling like you somehow didn’t deserve to be wearing it.

You would really prefer if you guys could’ve just kept talking instead. If you could be chatting with Eddie right now, instead of standing here with literal goosebumps on your skin from the threat of this conversation. Would there be anyway you could get out of being picked at this that wouldn’t look odd? You weren’t sure.

Eddie crossed his arms, biting back a smile as he looked at his young warriors, Lucas energetically shaking Jeff and Mike who stood beside him. “Who should we do next?”

God you hoped they didn’t pick you. You knew Eddie wouldn’t be cruel, you knew he was a very empathetic guy, who from his own experiences, knew when words could hurt more than most. You loved that about him, and he loved that you could actually see how kind he could be, and not just because he had such kind eyes. Some of the things he told you in private, only you, were things only a genuinely emotionally intelligent person would know. And even though the other guys were your friends too, you dreaded the thought of them all staring at you and judging an animal from that. ...What would they even pick?

‘A slug.’ Is what popped into your mind. But you shudder, hating yourself for thinking that way. And hating yourself because you almost believe that is an animal you could resemble. It’s stupid. You have to clear the thought away immediately, focus on something, Eddie’s smile at liking this new game, just so you didn’t actually think hard about what you could argue might’ve been an intrusive thought. If you think too hard on it, you’ll bring yourself down and you can’t do that around the others, it’ll just bring them down too.

“Dustin... Dustin...” Mike pondered, now realising he got to make fun of his best friends too.

“Oh shit. Yeah, Dustin...?” Lucas piped up, swivelling more to his side as they both, all of you, stared down your cap wearing friend.

Mike continued. “Hmm... Dustin.”

“You guys better be careful.” Dustin warned, holding up a karate chop hand to show he was serious, making you and Eddie giggle into each other.

Into each other! Your giggles shifted your bodies about until Eddie’s shoulder was leaning against yours. And he stayed in that position! Normally you wouldn’t be this excited because you were physically close as friends, it wasn’t unusual, but when your heart’s already going, everything seemed bigger. You tried desperately not to move, self conscious about your own breathing now, was it rubbing Eddie the wrong way, was it loud? Nasally? And oh my god this is an uncomfy position. Did you look unnatural positioned like this? Like you just wanna touch Eddie? Which is ridiculous because you touch him all the time! You literally hugged this morning. And Eddie held your high five after he’d graced you with one, swinging your hands down and wrapping it in his own as he continued his description of the, courtesy of you, slain goblin. Swinging your hand for a few seconds so it was enough to be causal, not enough for someone to call anyone out on, but enough to be long enough to make you question. And have something to giggle over in bed that night when you thought about it.

Mike and Lucas just laughed at Dustin’s display, before the former decided. “An ostrich.”

It seemed to not be anything Dustin was expecting at least, if his whole body leaning back was enough to tell. “An ostrich? Why the shit?”

“I don’t know” Mike fake stroked his chin, Lucas following in suit as all the members now tried to see the relation in the curly haired boy. “It’s something to do with the eyes. Too beady, too... untrustworthy.”

Dustin scoffed. And there was silence, only for a few seconds in the club room, which was still rare. But everyone was busy contemplating Dustin. Until Gareth spoke calmly. “Jeff’s a blobfish.”

“What the hell is a blobfish?!” Jeff double taked, looking at his best friend incredulously.

“The ugliest animal in the world.” Everyone snickered. “We can probably find a pic of it in the library, if you’re okay breaking into the scary adults only section.”

You were part of the ensemble of laughs everyone gave, including Jeff’s cheerfully fake one before he tackled Gareth, noogieing him hard as the other boy cackled in his grip. You were glad everyone could joke around as friends like this. At first the guys were all a little nicer to you. The freshmen of the group were clearly already friends, as were Gareth and Jeff, but Eddie, even being friends with all of them, accepted you into his close circle almost immediately. You were glad when the guys realised they could just treat you like their other friends, they didn’t need to coddle you just because you were a girl. Although you were a little nervous about the rough housing around this topic.

Sure you could take some light teasing, you weren’t a baby, and you hazed the guys right back, but you had a feeling whichever animal they all said looked like you, is something that’s going to be spiralling into the back of your mind quickly. And you were a bit nervous for any disatourous consequences that could come of that.

The two band members were getting a little rougher, still laughing away, but knocking into the table now. The freshmen all eagerly cheering them on. And even though the session was over, the pieces were about to be put away from their strategic positions on the map, Eddie still raised his hand as he watched his beloved hand painted figures topple.

“Hey hey HEY!” Eddie called out, his hand spread out and everyone, you included, falling into silence under your leader, a smile on his face that got you all invested in whatever wise words he’d say. “I’m the dungeon master here!” Eddie threw both his arms wide open dramatically now, smiling fiercely at his little group. “Have you all forgotten who’s God when you’re wearing those shirts?” He scoffed at the guys who were settling down, smiling to you as you watched them all fall in line, his hair bouncing as he rolled his eyes with his whole head. It made you smile. “I’ll decide who’s what!”

Eddie dropped his arms once you all were grinning, eagerly waiting for him to cast his opinions. And firstly, Eddie turned on his heel to you. Both his feet plopped in place firmly, hands swinging behind his back as he hummed to your self, looking you up and down.

Now your heart was truly pounding. You hid the worry on your face easily, just smiling back with such a nice look that it almost was daring him to be mean to someone so loveable, and loyal in your group.

Finally Eddie resigned, with a hand extending to yours, smiling with heart as he finally got the animal he was searching for. “For y/n... a swan.”

Now that hadn’t been what you were expecting. You could feel your head flinch back from the unexpected declaration. For a moment you tried to decipher if there was anything physically about you that was truly swan like that surpassed all the, well, you. But coming up with a blank for that, you felt your heart spike in the good way you’d only felt around Eddie in recent years. A genuine smile crept onto your features and this time you didn’t hold it back.

You and Eddie were still looking right at each other, and he grinned as he saw you spark up at the name. But before you could ask, in a voice you dreadfully knew would be smaller and higher pitched than your usual but you for once didn’t care about, Mike popped up with a question of his own to your dm.

“Soooo, is that because of the ugly duckling thing, orrrr?..”

The rest of the club burst into laughter, Mike more than anyone, looking to you with pride at his jab. You guys did tease each other quite a lot, it helped solidify a lot of friendships early on. The only one who didn’t laugh was Eddie.

You’d laughed at their joke. Not in a large way, but you pointed your finger and stretched out as if to hit their shoulders as they teased, but you laughed along with your friends in their game. Even though as soon as the joke left Mike’s mouth, and the laughter started up, you felt a stabbing pain, starting from your heart, wreaking havoc all over your body. In your life you’d gotten used to laughing after a while, you knew it was easier for everyone else. And it was easier for you if you just played along and didn’t make them uncomfortable. ’Ugly duckling...’ you thought, ’couldn’t have picked better myself. My friends clearly know me so well.’ A glum cloud was moving over you.

Eddie wasn’t too thrilled though. “Hey knock that shit off.” He growled warningly at Mike, who only raised in hands in fake surrender before bringing them to his knees to laugh again. Eddie telling them off almost made it funnier to them. Well, his reactions did really.

With Eddie’s eyes on Mike and Lucas, Gareth raised his hand behind Eddie’s back quickly “Have you turned into the pretty swan yet?”

He yelped and ran as Eddie span around to whack upside his head, hiding behind Jeff with a playfully startled look on his face. Like a dog wanting to play chase.

You didn’t answer his question, and you didn’t even have to laugh as everyone’s attention was on the scene Gareth was making with Eddie. It allowed you to just sink into the background, wishing the shadowy room, a perfect set up by Eddie, the auteur of Hellfire Club, would swallow you whole so you didn’t have to grin till your cheeks hurt, and hide the redness you knew would eventually stain your eyes.

“No I meant swan! Just swan!” Eddie whipped his explanation to the room, frustrated everyone was making such a big deal about what was supposed to be his compliment to you, twisting his words like everyone else in town did. Except this time it made his heart hammer like it hadn’t since he’d accepted the fact nearly everyone hated him, because you were on the receiving end, and not him. “That’s not what I mea- shut up you guys!” His eyes found yours now, and you were just standing exactly where you were before, a neutral look plastered across your expression, minus your upper lip you sucked in.

“You have never been, and are not, an ugly duckling.”

There was a pregnant pause. Your wide eyes were held on Eddie’s soft ones, one hand pressed out to you, the other behind him where the majority of the guys were, like he was trying to forcefully separate you from the bullies, even if they did think it was all joking, and you thought he knew you wouldn’t try and distance those opinions yourself, from the way he kept looking at you. His own lips mirrored yours, the only movement in the room apart from his chest rising and falling as he breathed, sucking it in as he waited for you. He hadn’t meant to start any type of conversation like this, and you knew he didn’t like where it’d gone. With just a few moments of him watching you like that, you felt a small smile start to tug at your lips where they were previously tucked away, heartbeat softening under his gaze and words.

That was until words not spoken by Eddie, broke the graceful moment supposendly only noticed between the two of you.

“Like... so what, is y/n aging backwards, orrrr??” Dustin asked the group, snapping the silence of the room. It was quickly completely shattered as everyone praised Dustin for his comeback. You watched Eddie’s shoulders fall in a sigh, squinting his eyes just a little harder than usual.

Your stomach flipped as the boy you almost felt was a little brother to you cut you deep.

Great, even Dustin was properly joining in now. His words almost stung the most. But even as your brain thought that, your heart thought another thing ’not him too...’

“Seriously, knock it off!“ Eddie growled deeply at his members, more firm than the last time he said it. But the guys just didn’t get it. They weren’t taking him seriously, they didn’t realise they were supposed to. Dustin hadn’t even looked at Eddie, he just kept waiting for you.

And when his big goofy grin was looking to yours, and the others as he got such an uproarious reaction to his joke, Eddie being ignored, your own practice perfect smile reacted too. “Oh not you as well?” You rolled your eyes, thankful it gave you an excuse to blink any wateriness away. “Shit Dustin, I thought at least you’d be on my side?”

“I am.” Dustin nodded, feigning seriousness in a straight pose as he embellished upon his joke. “It’s therapeutic for people to not live in denial after a while.”

You laughed again, giving a small punch to his shoulder as you were half relieved that your serious words came in a light enough tone that no one could decipher them. The other part of you begged them to realise this was too much. That they were hurting you. But you knew you couldn’t handle that. If you started acting like a baby, acting out against their words like a brat who couldn’t take it, they’d all just pause and stare at you, even Eddie. None of them would know what to say and you’d have ruined everything by making it awkward. The ugliest animal thing earlier showed they were all joking as friends, but you couldn’t apparently take a joke. They were all good kids, and your friends. They couldn’t help your uncomfortable truth.

“Has it happened yet in that case?” Mike faux whispered to the other younger boys, slinking away a little with a giggle as Eddie stepped closer, chin out and teeth gritted in frustration.

You couldn’t see that though from your vantage point at the other side of the end of the table. You managed a chuckle at Mike’s add on, it was smaller than your laughs before. You didn’t really know how to react now that Eddie was sticking up for you the way he was, but even that small laugh was enough to bring Eddie physically back to you.

“Y/n you don’t have to laugh,” Eddie told you, eyes twitching downwards in sadness. Why weren’t you discouraging them? “Guys, shut the fuck up already.” He told them off, stepping closer to your side whilst he glared at them.

You felt something in your jaw twitch, a muscle or something, and you hoped Eddie didn’t hear the sound your throat made in response. You leant closer to his warmth, not touching him yet as his slightly widening nostrils made his breathing audible to you, but your jacket material brushed agaisnt his own. “It’s fine Eddie, don’t w-“

“No it’s not y/n.” Eddie quickly interrupted you, looking down at you with a softer glance, even though he’d snapped his disapproving look from the boys in under a second. He still looked disappointed at you though. Although you weren’t sure if he’d had time to control that look aimed at them, or if it was your fault.

You were stunned into silence. You almost felt ashamed, bowing your head as you looked at Eddie’s feet, noticing them shuffling nearer to you. He didn’t solidly touch you yet, but his arm and left side was slightly behind you now, closer like this. You didn’t think the guys were making that much of a big deal, especially since in this case, part of you knew they were truly joking. But the words they spoke still came out. You weren’t expecting Eddie to really defend you, not when you didn’t even try and defend yourself anymore, not even subconsciously. It felt... warm, that he did though.

In the tiniest of movements, you leant your back into his torso.

Your back only grazed against his cotton shirt, but it still felt better than before. Better than most things.

“C’mon, it’s not like she’s gonna start sprouting white feathers any time soon!” Mike retaliated against Eddie in a brave offence.

Your instinct is almost to laugh again. But Eddie’s was to drop his hands onto your shoulders, and that touch completely whirlwinded your thoughts, as well as snapping you out of that learnt behaviour. Things were different when Eddie was behind you. After a few seconds of them still laughing, Eddie began gently rubbing your shoulders. You didn’t think this was because they were still laughing at you. Eddie just naturally fell into it. It felt too good as he rubbed his hands quickly up and down the top of them, the friction buzzing beneath your skin in a way that made you feel heated in your face and chest, not in a way that made you want to itch your skin off, for how disgusting your body felt it was. Eddie was now fully behind you, but his head still leant over yours as he spoke. You felt shrouded by him, including, from your own umbrella of thoughts. “Don’t pay any attention to those shitheads y/n.” He commanded you.

You meant to nod. Really. You meant to show Eddie that you were strong. You were good and could do what he asked. But instead, with the soft weight of Eddie’s palms rolling against your skin, your body gave off more of a defeated shrug. Maybe that’s what your mind intended your body to show anyway. Even with Eddie’s support. Something you didn’t know you needed quite this much, even if you were having somewhat of a hard time properly accepting it.

That seemed to do it for Eddie. He peered down at you, leaning more to the side. You had to look away after a certain point, when his eyes grew scared, it was like he could see right into you. His voice was stable as he moved in front of you, hands still clapsed to your shoulders, and eyes full with hurt. “Stop that y/n, you’re beautiful.”

Loud enough that the club members could hear. Which was in Eddie’s plan. He just wasn’t thinking super far ahead, his chest squeezing for a second too hard, when after a small obvious pause the guys all called out in unison. “Ooooooh!”

They all started teasing him. At a similar level they were doing so to you. And you didn’t miss the sudden panic that hit Eddie’s eyes, especially as his hands dropped from your body, twiddling his own rings instead. “Well you know not beautiful I didn’t mean it like that I just m-me-meant...”

You guessed it wasn’t worth defending you at this point. Now more than ever you had to keep in control of your face, with Eddie looking at you still stumbling over his own words. His confidence quickly fading.

And while it hurt hearing him call you that initially, ’beautiful’, even though you knew something was wrong with you that that did hurt, it hurt even more when he said you weren’t.

And you knew that was stupid. That wasn’t what he meant, he just didn’t want you to think he was hitting on you inappropriately or anything (or at all). He didn’t want the guys teasing you about him having a crush. Especially when he almost definitely didn’t, so Eddie would’ve found it annoying you were sure. That bad part of your brain still took what it could grab at though. Eddie did not mean to say you were beautiful, he didn’t think that was true at all.

Probably only said it to shut up your blabbering for a second. You were that pathetic, just bringing the vibe down for everyone, so much Eddie had to lie. Good job he quickly redacted it you guessed. At least he still had his values there.

Wallowing in your own self-misery, something Eddie was very clealry not missing, he was shook out of his concern for you by Gareth sticking his tongue out at him. “C’mon Eddie, you’re never this nice to us.”

Eddie rolled his eyes back with a dramatic grunt to him. “Yeah well that’s because I actually like y/n! Y/n is actually nice.” He turned back to you, still concerned that you weren’t looking at anyone’s face, not even his as he tried to grab your attention. Only his kept being stolen back by those little pricks.

“Is it because y/n’s the only girl in the group?” Lucas asked, getting a “Yeah Eddie. Is it?” From Dustin as back up.

Eddie grit his teeth, shaking his head in frustration. Talk to you, get them to back off, get you to look at him, talk to his group. “No-“

“Well it has to be something.” Jeff suggests, earning a snicker from Gareth.

“Look, you’re all assholes.” Eddie chides. Not in a super serious way, but letting them know he was getting tired of dealing with their bull. He was trying to shut them down, at least get them to talk amongst themselves so he could have you. But as soon as his head snapped back to you, everyone’s went to Gareth, as his digital watch started to beep.

Eddie’s heart sunk, and yours fluttered in relief mixed with discomfort. Time to leave.

Everyone started packing up. Eddie quickly shoving all his things into his bag because leaving them there was a death wish for any figurines or other creations, but he didn’t want to get caught behind by everyone else’s cleaning up.

Dustin hit your arm lightly only to snicker at you when you looked up. You laughed along with the joke. Your head was red because you were bending at an angle under the table to quickly pack your bag. No other reason.

At least with the growing members, no one would notice if you didn’t talk to anyone on the short way out of school. You hoped.

All of you flooded out the theatre rooms door, the club chattering amongst themselves down the empty hallway as you tried to keep your head buried even further now, in less dim light. Although the sudden change of leaving had given you a small spark of rejuvenation, that you were riding out so as not to cry. Eddie was sticking close by you, not talking to the others either, but apart from your mouth breathing you were doing, which you had to keep up to stop from fully cracking, you tried to act normal.

And considering both of you were surrounded by the group walking to the exit doors, Eddie didn’t try and talk to you until you all dispersed there. Even though you were the only thing he looked at the entire walk.

Exiting into the Indiana sun, that was definitely about to start setting with how late the session had gone, the rest of the members started going to their methods of transportation, the parking lot pretty silent as most clubs finished at a reasonable and precise time. Unlike Hellfire.

The kids had their bikes to haul back today, and Gareth’s mom was picking him and Jeff up, so it meant Eddie had a free seat. Not that he wouldn’t be driving you, or anyone, in the back of his van anyways. “Hey, do you need a ride home?” Eddie offered, trying to act causal like he could tell you wanted, but the inside of his mind buzzing with ’Please say yes, please ride with me so we can talk.’

But you quickly shut that down, panic evident on your face, which Eddie hated to see, as you quickly spoke out “My mom’s picking me up.” Too quickly for normal.

Eddie opened his mouth again, just letting it take over what he was next to say without his mind’s involvement, a bit like you clearly were, but as he did, you both spot about the only car rolling outside.

Heart dropping disappointed, Eddie put on a small smile as he waved to your mom through her window, just as you started to run over, not even saying bye to Eddie. Not even hugging him goodbye... which he looked forward to every single day. You hugging him hello and goodbye were the only hugs, the only true physical affection, Eddie really ever got. And he didn’t get it today.

But all he could do was keep waving, not able to see if anyone was waving back thanks to the sun’s reflection on the car window, as he was forced to watch you driving away...

You hated that you had school the next day. You almost wanted to take the day off, you had the very real stomach ache as an excuse. Plus the fatigue from staying up until 2am - it was hard to sleep when all you could do was cry. Scared about what Eddie was thinking right now, knowing he’d be up. How all your friends see you. Would they see you any differently today?

But there came the cost of not showing up, and them possibly figuring out you were hurt by yesterday. Then you holding in your crying the afternoon before was pointless, because they’d all know you’re a baby who makes her friends feel bad. God you hated how anxiety made every decision feel like a crappy one.

But you decided to go to school, prove to yourself that you were brave and not stupid. Even if you still secretly planned to avoid Hellfire as much as possible. Wherever physically, and in places like shared classes with Eddie (in which being the only two to share desks previously always seemed like a blessing), and lunch with all of them, you’d just have to practice avoidance by being quieter.

Unfortunately, none of this was on the table for you.

You got out your moms car and started to walk up to the school doors, busting through the ones closest to your lockers like you did every day, only for your heart to freeze and constrict in your chest, at seeing a pained looking Eddie leaning against your locker.

He was looking every which way, peering over most students heads. And you quickly made the decision to let autopilot run free on your body so you could continue your usual walk up, before Eddie could see you just stood stiff staring at him. Not weird at all. You trudged on.

Eddie’s face lit up when he saw you, but not in the usual happy way. It was more of a relieved look this time. He waved you over though, his curled hand raised above people but not shouting for your attention, which was a bit lower profile for the metal head than usual. You managed a small smile, taking a breath you knew you’d need, as Eddie managed to give a smile that looked all to much like your own as you swanned closer. “Hey princess.” He breathed out, calmer than he looked before.

As much as that nickname made your heart beat faster, you were distracted by the fading smell of smoke on him, and a small frown twisted onto your features, as Eddie only usually smoked right before classes when he was stressed, and needed a cigarette. Oh no, you hoped he was okay.

Eddie pretty much blocked you off from the rest of the school goers, and the world, as you got to your locker. Scooting over because he was literally leaning on yours, his hand moving to rest one to the left, but his entire body leant behind you, a breath as relieved as his smile leaving his lips as he could finally look over you. “I’m so glad you’re in today.”

Your face burned, heart swelling and tingly.

“I mean, I was worried you weren’t gonna show. I was totally gonna ditch and steal your neighbours ladder to check up on you though, if you didn’t.”

You heart was palpitating now, your lips opening into a small fish like shape as you blinked furiously, charmed. Eddie would’ve climbed through your window to check up on you if you’d missed school? How long was he worrying about you? How long had he planned that?

The gesture was so sweet, too sweet to you, electricity stormed through your stomach and your legs, not sure whether to smile or bury everything down deeper because you knew negative feelings were still being held back by a very thin damn. You turned to your locker, keeping a side eye on Eddie as you spoke, organising your books. “I’m fine. I promise. Why wouldn’t I be Eddie?”

It didn’t sound like you were faking. But that’s because it didn’t come out sounding causal at all. Like you weren’t even trying to be convincing. It sounded like you truly didn’t mean any of that and the both of you knew it too well.

’Maybe he just wanted to skip school’ floated briefly through your mind.

Eddie clicked his tongue, unseen to you, running his sweaty palms against the skin and denim of his ripped black jeans. “Well, after yesterday, you seemed a bit upset. Which was fair. I know they were just messing around because you’re their friend, but the guys were being total assholes and losers.”

Fair? Eddie thought you were okay being upset? You knew it was true, realistically. Of course you were allowed to feel upset. But it just felt so... comforting, to have Eddie confirm that for you in his own way, without any prior prodding. It was just a genuine declaration of how he felt.

“O-Oh.”

That wasn’t being hidden from Eddie. The crowd of pupils and teachers was thinning, but Eddie still drew closer, a shield against all those people, the noise of outside the two of you. People could be mean to you guys, mostly him, and he hated the fact people were only mean to you because you were friends with him, so he just wanted a break from that so he could focus on you right now. His face furrowed, already fallen like before he’d even seen you, lips twisting every which way and being bitten on the inside.

“W- uhh, thank you. That’s really nice of you... But yeah, um, I’m fine. No need to worry, honest!”

“Are you being honest though?”

Eddie leant closer and his breath on the nape of your neck drew a loud shudder of a gasp. You turned around quickly, only to be even more intimated at his determined look, now you two were front to front. Your back closed your locker for you, bag dead by your shoes.

“Uhhhh I-“

Eddie put his thumb to your lips, his hand following after and oh so gently cupping your chin. You couldn’t even breathe at this point, too scared to, and Eddie had this geuinine look in his eyes, emotions full in the dark brown, that you didn’t know what to do with. “Y/n please talk to me. You’re my best friend, right? I know you were lying yesterday when you laughed with the guys and I don’t think...” Eddie struggled when he didn’t let his heart run with the words, tongue flicking against his lips as it usually did, while his thumb still graced yours. “I don’t think they were playing along with me.”

In Eddie’s head it made sense. But it had yet to be translated to you. Instead, it was taken as wrong. “Oh? And what game were you playing?” You spoke, lightly unable to avoid brushing against his warm finger.

“No I’m not playing a game I just mean...” Eddie sighed, his brown puppy eyes so sad, as they held yours. Everyone had gone to class now, no one bothering to remind you two of the last bell. “I mean the guys and I... no fuck, hold on.” Eddie inhaled through his teeth, his hand finally leaving your face, which at least allowed you to breathe, but made you feel solemn and hollow at the same time.

Eddie was level with you. Looking like the normal boy you knew he was, who could feel unsure, and scared, and nervous. His ringed hands wrung together, swearing to himself as he tried to hold your eyes in his, desperate for you to stay right now. “I think- I mean I know, I see you differently than them...”

Eddie’s hand braced his chest as he said that, staying splayed there over his white Hellfire shirt. Meanwhile you were overlooking your flustered crush, rolling your shoulders as you exhaled unsurely through your nose. It made you nervous having a one on one conversation with Eddie that was so serious. No distractions. And seeing him so flustered and open was a vulnerable side you’d seen before, but not when you both felt this exposed, with something you were so hesitant to say. You bit your lip, only realising for a split second after that Eddie’s thumb had been on there, but you pushed that thought aside for later as you watched his tongue almost reaching the top of his nose again, sticking out like that nervously. About as on the spot as you felt.

“So... you see me as a swan and they see me as the ugly duckling?” You asked unsure, flinching back and feeling bad when Eddie winced harshly at your words. Shaking his head vigorously. Voice cracking a little through the first few words.

“No! Fuck no, that’s not. That’s not even true what they said y/n! They were just trying to find a joke and they locked onto it, they don’t think anyone looks like what they said, Jesus H Christ none of us look like animals. Least of all you y/n!”

You blinked away the last sentence, pinning it again for later, like your brain couldn’t be split between conflicting emotions, but unfortunately was picking the negative ones to experience now. The negative ones to experience with Eddie, and the positive ones for when you were alone. Christ couldn’t you be positive and happy when you were around people you loved instead today? “Look I’m not mad at them okay Eddie?” You spoke up. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to yell at them or something for me. I mean I really appreciate what you did for me yesterday, it made me feel nice but-“

“What? I’m not mad. Y/n-“ Eddie strode close and took your hands softly in his, flipping them over and grazing them in his own calloused touch, holding them warmly. “I’m not even trying to talk about them right now. They were being little dicks yesterday but they were just messing around. You know I know you’re beautiful don’t you? I mean, I do have eyes.” He chuckled softly only on that last sentence. The first and only time he hadn’t seemed serious apart from when he finally saw you. Almost like you relaxed him, made him feel good, better.

But now your brain was pushing away the positivity, that was becoming more in volume than the negativity, on purpose. Because it stuck onto one part that it could warp, and stab into you like a knife.

“Look Eddie I really appreciate you, and you know I love you.” You squeezed his hands softly, and Eddie looked like he was melting at your touch. His cheeks seemed softer, slightly pinker as they raised in an honest to god smile, medium sized, but perfect to the situation. And you both took a step closer to the other, not knowing each other would do the same. Still a parting, but wrists resting on your own stomachs. “But you don’t have to say that, I know yesterday you got kinda screwed over and tried to take it back and it’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad or-“

“Y/n stop!!” Eddie snapped, shocking you a little as you jumped. Eddie held your hands closer in apology, pulling your wrists so near your hands were in his stomach now. “I mean Jesus Christ! Y/n. You are beautiful. I meant it yesterday and I mean it now. And I’ve always known it. Maybe I should’ve said it more but...” Eddie used one conjoined hand to shift back his curls in his face, huffing out quickly. You could feel how hot his poor forehead was becoming as he moved so.

“You are beautiful. You’re gorgeous.” His brown eyes looked deeply into yours, open, and face contorted in a mixture of confusion, but being pure, and fully unendingly loving, as he held you close. Hands smoothing down your shoulders, shaking as they tried to keep you from running, tried to soothe you into his words. Like a charm roll a bard would throw for a restless dragon.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever been graced enough to lay my fucking eyes on.” His tongue darted out, eyes blinking sheepishly as he kept looking right at you. “Why don’t you see that, all the time?” Pain and confusion. That’s what was in his voice. Love and fear mixed into all his touches, hands smoothing over your back and shoulder blades in his need to fidget and be touching you, someone he always wanted to never not be touching, ever since the moment you first lit up when talking to him. That’s the only thing he ever saw when he looked at you, and he just couldn’t fathom a world where you somehow didn’t see the exact same thing, staring blatantly obviously back.

“Because I’m not!” You wriggled harshly out of his grip, the genuine hurt in Eddie’s eyes, only fuelling the burst of passion you were having. “I’m not anything! I’m not anything good, Eddie!” You were yelling, no one had seen you yell before, least of all Eddie. And Eddie teetered on nervous feet, worried about reaching out for you, but scared of what you’d do if he didn’t ground you.

Your breath felt ragged, head pounding. “I look at myself, I think about myself, and all I can feel, is how ugly, and disgusting I am.”

Pure and simple shock was spread across Eddie’s features. The kind of disappointed shock where he couldn’t understand how, or why you’d ever felt this way. Eddie was heartbroken.

“Whenever I remember this body I’m in, I want to cry because I feel like nothing good is deserved for someone as fucked up as this. I feel sick in my own skin. Every cell of me feels wrong, and that’s how I live. Terrified that someone’s going to look at me, someone who’s seen me a thousand times, and suddenly see this me that’s just a monster when you look again.” Your hand was to your heart, and you were crying now. Tears itching that disgusting skin people should wash their hands after touching. God you felt awful getting it out there, this was bullshit.

Anger was about to start seeping into Eddie too, just a little, grief and heartbreak was overtaking him right now. “Is this to do with what the guys said?”

You were hyperventilating now. Very aware of breaking down in front of your crush, and unable to breathe because you were crying so hard. Terror striking you from speaking the truth, because your best friend would see you that way now. Upon his words, a gasp bubbles through the saliva in your throat, but before you could answer Eddie finshed.

“I’m going to knock their teeth in.” Eddie felt hot tears in his eyes. He’d let you go home thinking about this. You were hurting. “I don’t care that they’re stupid, I’m going to tell them all that-“

“No!” You finally got close to Eddie again, your hands the only strong part of either of you as you lightly gripped his forearm. “No it’s not their fault.” You knew Eddie would only drag them somewhere and knock their heads together, but you didn’t want him guilting your friends, you didn’t want them hurt. You didn’t want them to know either. “It’s not them. I’ve always felt like this.”

Eddie felt lost. Eddie was crushed. His whole face collapsing to show it. His tears dripped onto his shirt, defeated by them. The white staining in the hollow hallway as he just looked at you, about as broken as you feel. ”But why?”

Eddie was genuinely confused. And it made your heart skip. To the point it felt so good, it was painful.

This whole conversation was painful. Your head dropped as your tears slunk to the floor, Eddie gripping your wrists in return, before pulling you warmly into a hug. Eddie’s embrace so tight, so scared to break you but needing you to stay, safe, with him, so you wouldn’t. Eddie would never let you break. He promised to himself now to always pick up your pieces before you could fully fall apart. Eddie would never let that happen, not on his watch. Not when you were under his oath. He sniffed, licking up his tears as he nuzzled his cheek into your head. Dreaded mumbles falling from his lips with small cries. Even his hips pressed to yours, his feet entangling thoughtfully, so you couldn’t fall, or retreat, just hugging you.

“I just. I don’t know.” You sobbed once. “I’m sorry.”

“Ssh. Don’t you dare apologise.” Eddie stroked the wetness away from your head, into his hand. “I’ll kick your ass.” He kisses your head instead, heart delighting, but not enough to give a smile, as you laughed at that. Hearing your small purr of a giggle was enough to tell himself to keep going, that he was doing an alright job.

“Sorry.”

Eddie pressed a hard kiss into your temple, growling lightly at you. Clearly still teasing you though. For once you didn’t have a single fear Eddie was mad at you. You could just breathe out laughs, even as you were crying. “I don’t know. Don’t you see that? See that... see an ugly duckling, in me?” You asked genuinely. For once your brain didn’t give you a million versions of the future, you just felt blank as you waited for his answer. It was peaceful.

As Eddie thought, he grazed against your head. Lips nibbling your skin, and your hair caught there, laughing lightly back when he felt another round of your chuckles, vibrating through his own chest, his warm hand smoothing down your back. He loved that feeling. He always wanted to make you laugh, but now he resolved to do so as he had your chest pressed against him, all the time. “I’ve... since the first moment I saw you, I’ve always thought you were jaw-droppingly stunning.” He revealed.

You felt conflicted, your heart pulled, brain just... not able to picture him seeing you like that. But you knew he wasn’t finished, and he held you impossibly closer, always being able to tell what you were feeling, even if it could be irritatingly accurate.

“But... the more I fell in love with you, the more and more I just kept seeing you as someone so perfect, it felt like the sun lit up her hair through every window on purpose. To shine down on her specifically. That the weather was made that day, so she could wear an outfit that made your legs, and stomach, and arms, and hands, look so desirable to hold. Someone who’s smile literally made the people around her smile for the rest of their entire day, and how that kinda magic could only be possible from you. That every day I’d see a different person spin around and do a double take at you with that look on their face, that look because they know they’ve just walked past the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and they’ll never get that chance again to brush past your shoulder, and meet-cute you, ever. And that I’m the luckiest man on this earth, because somehow, through your own kindness, and through the wind and the sun and our peers and the earth beneath our feet and stardust that made everything, I was lucky enough to be someone, who gets to see someone so beautiful, every single day.”

Eddie breathed out. His brown eyes warm in yours. His touch craving. His body glowing after all that.

And there were no words. A white sheet in your mind and a white glow over your body. You only knew you felt light, you felt... right. And your heart was full. And the thing that kept circling over and over in your mind, finally spoke out.

“You love me?”

Eddie’s breath collapsed in his laugh. Full and hearty, and the tears in his eyes were now spilt because of how they crinkled, smile spreading to his cheeks and his warm palms cupped your own cheeks, like he was so grateful to be able to hold you safe like this, like he was so happy to have your face beating in his hands. “Of course I do. I love you y/n. I’m madly in love with you! I love you so much it’s consumed every part of me and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you more than fucking anything! I love you more than anything y/n!”

“I love you too!” The air tasted different when you gasped, Eddie’s heart swelling was something you could see throughout his entire body, as his chest rose and his feet curled, and his eyes warmed, and his lips opened in such a smile. You took Eddie’s face in your own hands and everything fit together perfectly. He was so warm, so full of life, so Eddie, and so full of love for you. Eddie was the love of your life, and you could hold his tear ridden smile in your hands.

Eddie leant in close, using his hands to pull you further as his open lips spread, and your eyes fluttered stickily shut as you just smiled leaning in. Finally having his full, wet lips slotting against yours, and feeling each other’s smiles into the kiss, as you felt him kiss you like it was the best memory he’d ever make.

He pulled you in closer, almost tripping over your own feet as his hands on your cheek coerced you, but only one foot slipping, as you kissed him deeper. Lovingly moulding his lower lip that wanted to live in your mouth, and feeling his thick upper one kiss you back with so much deep adoration. Affection and love oozing out of Eddie as he kissed you happily. Sweet sounds coming from the both of you as your hands curled in his dark hair by his ears, and his cradled your nape and your lower back. Cheeks brushing and noses nuzzling, as you sweetly tasted each other, kissing like it was the only thing that was right in this world.

Finally, after stopping a little, and feeling Eddie’s nose nuzzle and brush at you in return, you pulled back. Eddie having literally stolen your breath away. You both backed up just an inch, just enough to see each other, and you were both beaming smiles through the warm sun rays. Eddie leant in to kiss you again, this time a small peck that you reciprocated, both his lips sweetly pressing against yours, and you could just tell they were Eddie Munson’s lips.

A noise of deep happiness and satisfaction finally broke the air and Eddie couldn’t help but nose at your cheek playfully again. “That was even better than I imagined.” He fondly grinned.

You tilted your head, wrapping both your arms around Eddie’s neck, as you felt a different energy, making a home in your new home. “You imagined kissing me before?”

Eddie went momentarily bright red. Before he remembered it was you he was with, and it was okay to be this vulnerable because you loved him too. “‘F course!” He sang. “Although minus the crying.”

You burst into laughter, Eddie following along as you rubbed at your drying tears, stomach fluttering as Eddie’s calloused fingers went to softly swipe at your cheekbones instead, the warm metal of his rings from how clammy his hands were, actually feeling nice as he brushed them away, “Pretty princess...” Getting at his own tears with his sleeve before you could return the favour. “Yeah.” He took both your cheeks in his hands again, before he leaned in to kiss you once more. Then your two red cheeks, and he leaned back and smiled, then both your eyes, still smiling, as he just had to look at you again “Can’t have my gorgeous girl crying. Never.”

Somehow, that didn’t start it again. Your lip wobbled but no tears came, only as Eddie kissed your nose fondly, was your movement to hold his face back, squeezing those adorable cheeks as you kissed all over his face. Every single inch got covered in your loving kisses, and feeling Eddie’s excited giggles fanning so close on your skin just made you kiss his lips over, and over, and over, and Eddie kiss yours, over, and over again. Your “I love you Eddie”’s being caught in between each and every kiss. Only stopping when Eddie pulled back to look at you, so happy in his hand, so he could smile at the sight of you. “My beautiful y/n.”

You two both skipped school that day eventually anyways. Only this time, as you walked hand in loveable hand down the empty hallways, not looking at each other only and purely because you were too busy kissing to have your eyes open, you were leaving to spend your first moments together as a couple.

[utilitycaster]

Talking as players outside the game is an incredibly important part of having good PC/PC D&D relationships, and obviously the characters involved in the relationship talking to each other in meaningful ways is crucial, but I think the importance of talking in-game in depth to other people is really underrated, in that it not only tells the other player what your character is feeling without having to reveal it in-game to them, but also serves to engage other characters in the story and deepen those platonic bonds to the point where they might even serve as confidants or wingmen. To give a bunch of examples and what they achieved:

Vax telling Gilmore he didn't want to string him along made it clear out of game that his feelings towards Keyleth were his priority, even though it happened where the other characters were not able to hear.

Similarly, Vex giving her blessing eventually after her initial resistance signaled to Liam that this would not be a major break between the twins.

Vax asking Vex what she intended to do about her feelings for Percy served not only as an opportunity for her to voice them to someone; it also serves as a big green light for Taliesin as Percy to kiss Vex later that episode (which he had already from Vex's resurrection ritual, but it underscores it).

Pike talking about Scanlan with Keyleth and Vex allows her to make it clear that she does ultimately like a lot of things about him despite sometimes being annoyed, and her talking to him through her earring while Scanlan is very much not there but Sam is at the table also serves as this kind of green light.

Jester asking Veth about kissing in relationship to Fjord lets Travis know where Jester is at and invests Veth in-game in the relationship.

Caleb asking Jester if she's "sweet on [Fjord]" lets her openly reassess her feelings after an intense arc and also indicates in-game that Caleb has noticed.

Beau waiting to hear the sound of thunder signals to Ashley (who was not at the table but who was presumably staying updated on events) that Beau has feelings for Yasha; it also allows those playing Yasha (often Matt for pure RP and Travis in combat) to return that flirting, since the baseline was already established.

Possibly the most obvious example, but Beau and Fjord's conversation on Rumblecusp not only clarifies to the whole table where everyone is (opening the door, for example, for the scenes in the beer garden a few episodes later of Caleb having Fjord and Jester dance together and Caduceus encouraging Yasha to pursue Beau) but very much serves as a green light to Ashley and Laura respectively. This is then mirrored by them talking after Beau has asked Yasha on a date and Fjord and Jester have kissed, and everyone involved can "debrief" with their partners not present in-game.

As mentioned, this is mostly about PC/PC relationships because PC/NPC is an inherently different dynamic mechanically though still should be a conversation, but Veth describing Yeza and Jester asking Caleb about his feelings about Essek both give Matt clues for playing these NPCs and how things might be received.

FRIDA mentioning their crush on FCG to Deanna means it's not a complete surprise to Sam, since it is a very sudden relationship, and lets him prepare and decide how FCG would feel in the moment, and also establishes how Deanna will feel about it.

Similarly in the C3 Uthodurn arc, Fearne going to Chetney about Deanna is an incredibly good move from Ashley (to the point that talking about this is what led me to write this whole post). It lets Travis play out where Chetney is. It lets Aabria therefore hear not only where Chetney is, but also know that Fearne is potentially interested. It establishes a ton of the dynamics for a relationship that out of game everyone knows will not have a full campaign to play out since one of the characters involved is a guest. And finally, it signals to Christian as FRIDA what the situation is in case Deanna confides in them.

[call-me-cheese]

hiiii can you do separate stolas, Blitzø, and fizzaroli relationship headcannons? Srry if that’s too much

Blitzo x reader

Stolas x reader

A/n: I did not write Fizzarolli as you did not say you want him as polyrelationship with Asmodeus or not, sorry

Stolas

Stolas is just perfect for relationships

He's literally a piece of the green flag

Yes, he had a very bad first relationship, but that's why he's willing to work in a new one

In the series itself, he said that he tried to make Stella comfortable in their relationship, and it is clear that he succeeded, it's just that Stella is a crazy bitch

He's definitely going to be fun with him, and he's generally willing to try to understand your hobbies and participate in them

He will also be quite active in trying to draw you into his

You know the names of all the colors (at least desperately pretend)

Oh and yes, you definitely have couples suits, Stolas has been wanting to try this for a very long time, so once you agree, he will literally kick his legs for joy

You will most likely have a good relationship with Octavia, she needs an adequate mother figure

You'll move in with Stolas pretty quickly since you're on a formal relationship

You'll watch TV shows all night and then sleep sweetly all day

He officially loves cuddling, so you'll be together all the time

Oh, and he has money, literally money, if you want to go somewhere, then naturally he will go with you

You will accompany him to official events and he will gladly introduce you to anyone who asks

Blitzo

He will also be good in a relationship

We see how he takes care of his "family", so you are incredibly important to him

He will always be somewhere pockmarked with you, as he is a person of physical affection

You will be told about the activities of the HSM

He'll literally brag about you to Moxxie and Millie, because yes

You've got a chance to get a cop=a campaign consisting of Luna and Blitzo AND you to go to a party

He'll try to cook something for you (he's not going to succeed)

You'll get some trinkets from the human world

How safe are you? WELL, 50/50, What are the chances that you will be rescued? 100%, and very fast

You'll have to calm him down in his depressive moments

Perhaps you go to a psychologist with him several times

You are praised as a celestial, everybody else, because when you appeared, he stopped meddling with others

You'll hug with him too, but he's not going to let you go at all

I hope you enjoyed it!

I am so sorry for doing that sooo long! My middle exams took all out of me

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure Arc: A Song on a Silent Night

Before we begin I’d like to get personal for a moment. About a year ago I decided I was going to step away from this blog as a daily format and only post when I was really inspired to. It was a drastic step, but one I had to make because I was so burnt out and so deep in seasonal depression that I was on the edge of having a breakdown. Ironically, it was this specific adventure arc that did it for me, as I felt pressured to make something for the holiday season but literally couldn't get words on the page. Taking a break turned out to be the best thing for me. This past year has been great and I’ve actually had enough energy to not only do the projects that are important to me, but to also improve my writing.   My partner and I have written a narrative podcast and we’re shopping it around to producers at the moment, I couldn’t be more excited. (BTW if you happen to be in the business, give me a shout) In many ways it’s very cathartic to come back and finish this adventure. I’d even say it was easy, since I didn’t have the pressure I self imposed because I thought I needed it to write. I just wanted to say: Take care of yourselves friends. Nurture yourself and good art will follow. I am so thankful to have you all as my audience and I hope you know that no matter how bleak the season gets it’s an absolute joy to write for you.

It’s the coldest night of the year, and despite all the lights on in town no one is home. They have been snatched from their beds and their hearthsides by a sinister song that carries on the wind and has spirited them off to another world. Our heroes must follow, and in order to get their friends and family back they must lay siege to the sorrowful heart of winter itself.

Find out what led to these events, and their outcome, below the cut.

Into:   Some weeks before the disappearances begin, the party are sent into the cold to check on a missing mail shipment, only to end up clashing against a group of hobgoblins intent on ruining the holiday season. From there, acts that might be construed as harmless planks escalate into outright malice as it becomes clear the hobs are disappearing townsfolk, working off some sort of list given to them by an unknown villain. 

Adventure Hooks:

If you’re running this adventure arc as part of a longer campaign, consider previewing the hob’s lair long before the villains every arrive, an old ruin where fey and witches are said to revel during the new moon. Having a low level party venture out to the ruins for a test of bravery only to return months later as veteran heroes will show them just how far they’ve grown.

From deadly pranks to highway robbery, each act of malicious mischief committed by the goblins is accompanied by a list of names and seemingly innocuous offenses, evidently ripped off a far larger list in possession of their leader. The party are likely to collect more than a few scraps of these over the course of their journeys, and will be surprised when they begin to form together, laying out a series of disappearances that stretches back some years. 

The goblins’ leader Klatterbell was having such a nice time in the mortal realm before the party got involved. As a hob-knight in service to an archfey of sorrow and frost, the material plane was practically a balmy vacation destination compared to his patron’s foreboding frozen realm. This led to Klatterbell slacking off on his task of collecting mortals and develop aspirations of becoming a sort of yuletide bandit lord.  Aspirations the party can’t help but thwart when they riad Klatterbell’s fortress and set the captives free.  The fight can end either two ways, either the party is defeated, captured, and banished through the portal to the frozen realm of the bleakfather,  or the party is victorious, and as his last act Klatterbell rips a horn from his belt and plays a haunting and mounrful note that will be picked up by the wind and transformed into a haunting tune. 

Returning home from defeating the goblins and rescuing the captives, the party find the town deserted, the strange music unleashed by Klatterbell’s horn echoing in the roar of an approaching winter storm. With their rescued townsfolk in toe, the party will begin to explore the eerily empty town, discovering that the inhabitants seemingly got up from what they were doing and walked into the cold, proceeding enmass to the edge of the settlement where the snow erases their footprints.   It’s at that point that the frost giants attack, walking out of the enroaching storm like it was a curtain between worlds. They’re here to mop up any townsfolk where were not swept up by the enchanting song and whisked away to the feywild, and maybe do some looting while they’re at it. 

Regardless of how it shakes out, the party will have to assail the realm of the Bleakfather, battling their way through a boreal wind that will seek to rip all warmth and joy from their bodies. The only way of getting through this storm is to think back on the moments of joy and light they’ve experienced through their adventures: the festivals, the little kindnesses, the gifts, the pranks, the games, the songs, their friends: These things will lend them strength when the cold and the dark creep in to swallow them… battling their way up the mountain, to rescue the townsfolk and perhaps defeat the archefey himself. 

Future Adventures: 

It wasn’t only the party’s neighbors that were taken captive by the bleakfather, scores of innocents from across the realms were taken by the frostgiants as thralls, all living out their indenture over the feywild’s timeless years. Hospitality will hold for the winter, but come spring the heroes will need to set off to find these people a place to live. 

With their slaves stolen and their fortress breached, the ice giants will scatter, some returning in months or years later at the head of raiding parties as they too seek a new home.  While some may be hesitant to give up their supremacy and seek to subdue the locals wherever they go, others may wish to live only in peace. 

[oliveroctavius]

Doesn't the decision to get involved with Sam Bullit prove Gwen was a bad person?

Hey, I've been looking for an excuse to post about this. The Sam Bullit arc isn't really about Gwen (though it certainly reveals some things about her character). The Sam Bullit arc is about racist dogwhistles and why they work.

ASM #92 pg 19: "I will bring law and order to the people of this great city! I will show no mercy to the anarchists and all others who would destroy our way of life!"

Bullit's platform is not openly white supremacist in the sense that it doesn't overtly mention race. He talks about laws and safety in a way meant to appeal to rich white voters. The true meaning should be clear to anyone with any political awareness (who are those others and what is our way of life?), so why does this rhetoric attract "otherwise rational" people?

ASM #91 pg 6: "I want to volunteer to help you--in your campaign for DA. Because--I want you to bring Spider-Man to justice!" "We need strength--strength to punish those who mock the law! I will use such strength to bring Spider-Man and others like him to justice! I will not betray your trust."

Gwen makes her decision to back Bullit on the way home from her father's funeral. There's a very real phenomenon of tough-on-crime bills named after (white) murder victims. The grief of families who feel like justice hasn't been served is a powerful tool to push harsh laws while smothering any criticism as "disrespectful" to the victims. What’s in a Name? An Empirical Analysis of Apostrophe Laws, 2020.

Bullit showed up at George Stacy's funeral with this exact goal in mind, and when Spider-Man "kidnaps" Gwen later, he leverages the media obsession with white girls in danger for his cause. Gwen is a pawn, but she did offer her help first. Her desire for closure is very human and her short-sighted reactionary faith in "the law" is very white.

Oddly absent from your "proven bad person" takeaway is J. Jonah Jameson. The Bugle lends Bullit a platform to make Gwen's personal tragedy a political talking point. JJJ has the ~Black best friend~ excuse and everything, and he still blows past red flags like crazy.

ASM #91 pg 7: "Maybe they were better days than now! At least we had law and order then." "Yeah--and lynch mobs, and bread lines, and Uncle Toms..." "Come off it, Robbie! What's wrong with a man standing for law and order, anyway?" "Maybe it just depends on whose law--and what kind of order you're talkin' about, man!"

(Another point of this arc: marginalized groups learn to recognize dogwhistles pretty quickly for survival reasons. If they tell you something is a dogwhistle and you don't see it yet, look closer.)

ASM #92 pg 9: "Parker's story just served to open Jameson's eyes--but I've kept a dossier on you. I haven't been city editor all these years for nothing! I know where your support comes from. I know about the lunatic hate groups who are backing you. I know what you really mean by law and order!"

Late in the campaign, the Bugle switches sides. This scene tends to be described as JJJ giving the racists what-for, but the moment is truly Robbie's. (Note that it took Peter getting roughed up for Jameson to take this seriously!) JJJ can yell at Bullit all he likes without consequences, but Robbie is kidnapped and threatened by white supremacists in retaliation. It's Robbie's determination to speak up that eventually puts Bullit out of the running for good.

The Bullit arc isn't there to sort characters by Bad Person and Good Person. Neither Gwen nor JJJ have to personally hate black people for their self-centered sense of safety to be weaponized by a racist agenda. This is a Stan Lee PSA about masked bigotry and how it might appeal to you even if you consider yourself a Good Person.

But for some ~mysterious~ reason, Gwen's brief agreement and Jameson's brief rejection are the only parts of these two issues I ever see brought up, with Robbie's major role not mentioned at all. Some ideas fit more neatly than others into smug ship-war quote tweets and anon asks, it seems.

[imaginesheaven]

Reader x TF 141 x Alex – Being Alex’s twin headcanons

Disclaimer: Doesn’t quite follow the story of the campaign missions of MW and MWII.

Warnings: Curse words? I have no idea *haha*

 Being twins with Alex is the best thing that ever happened to both of you. Since you can remember you always have each other’s back and that fact will never change. He is your best friend and you are his for the rest of your lives.

Alex being a smug and teasing you that you are actually five minutes younger than him. Referring to himself as your older brother. You roll your eyes at him grinning.

“You might be older, but I got the good looks and intelligence~”

Laswell would never admit it out loud, but is more than glad to have you both as a dream team on missions. If it gets complicated she can be sure that you two will sort it out discretely to her satisfaction.

Your reputation made round on the home base very quickly. Since you and Alex tend to work either alone or only the two of you together the other soldiers keep their respectfully distance. Mostly of them are just too scared to embarrass themselves in front of the two of you making small talk.  

“This is a dangerous mission. I will give you my two best soldiers. Of course, under the radar”, Laswell offers Price as she hands out mission files, “Get the twins!”

“No need to yell, Laswell. We can hear you very loud and clear”, you reply grinning as you make your way towards her and Price with Alex by your side. Both of you are already prepared with all you might need for the mission.

Captain Price heard a ton of good talk about the two of you. If he would want two soldiers by his side fighting it would be you and Alex. One day he will get you two on his team. “(Y/N), Alex. Nice to see you two still alive.”

Gaz can’t believe his eyes as you stand in front of him. Words spread like fire around the base so he knows a lot of stories about the Keller twins. He can feel the nervousness pooling in his body hoping he wouldn’t make a fool out of him.

“That’s Sergeant Kyle Garrick”, Price introduces you since the young soldier can’t a single word out. “Nice to meet you”, you reply grinning giving him a wink making his knees weak.

“Got your back, Kyle”, saving Gaz’s ass non-stop and making him blush every single time. Price enjoying what friendships grows between the two of you, but would never admit it. Just rolls his eyes, “Kids, stop playing.”

Being flirty with all the soldiers is a kind of hobby of yours. You just love how the toughest men and women get weak knees and stumble over their words in your presence.  

Your tactic for missions is mostly the same routine. Alex has your back from the distance with a good sniper rifle, while you stir up the hornets’ nest with your beloved shot gun.

During missions Alex and you love to roast each other with counting how many kills you get. “I just saved your sweet little ass out there”, you can almost hear the grin on Alex’ lips. “Easy to say, when you keep your shitty ass out of the fight. Come down into this chaos then we can talk”, you reply taking another enemy out.

“Hey, Alex. Got your eyes on me? Look at that”, giving him the stinky finger laughing. Alex shaking his head grinning looking at you through the scope, “Very mature.”

Sometimes the two of you argue which of you are actually the unplanned kid since your parents did definitely not sign up for double trouble twins like you are.

You would also tease him so hardcore because his crush on Farah. It doesn’t take your twin skills to sense that there is more going on between them than just friendship. You wouldn’t even need words just grinning at him wiggling your eyebrows seductively at the worst moments ever.

“So… You and Farah?” – “… Shut up, (Y/N).”

Being multitalented like you definitely have its perks since you love how everyone underestimates you at first.

“Shit, a bomb and only two minutes to disarm it”, Alex’ eyebrows furrow in light panic. Grinning you roll up your sleeves, “Fucking finally. Thought I could never use this skill.” Farah and Alex staring at you in disbelief as you defuse the bomb without even a single problem.

Since you and Alex don’t see each other sometimes for months you always have enough time to learn something new to bring him out of his coolness during moments like this one.

“You are such a show-off”, your brother rolls his eyes and lets out a big sigh. This earns you the full respect of Farah. She had no idea what an amazing soldier and fighter you are.

Captain Price keeps asking you every single time you have a mission together to join his new Task Force 141. You feel honored, but decline as always with, “I am not quite ready yet.”

Until the day Alex goes M.I.A.

“Either you tell (Y/N) what’s going on or I will”, the mention of your name peaks your interest as you follow the rather loud voices. “This is none of your business! The twins are under my commando and I will do what’s best for them”, Laswell has actually no idea what the best will be for you and Alex.

“What the hell is going on?”, since they are talking about you it is your right to bring yourself into this conversation. The well-known feeling of anxiety hangs onto your shoulders. Something feels very off.

“I’ll wait outside, kiddo”, Price’s heart breaks for you as he leaves you alone with Laswell. It is you right to know what happened to your twin brother, even if it might break your spirit.

“Alex is missing. We don’t even know if he’s still alive”, Laswell tells you with no ounce of sympathy. It’s like she wants to rip of the band-aid as fast as possible. You know if there would be a chance to search for him she would have send you out already. Sometimes you despise to work under the radar.

Without a word you end the conversation and leave the room behind. Price waits outside for you like promised, “Kiddo.” You really appreciate him being there for you, but right now you only want to be alone.

“I am here if you need something”, Price lets you know as you keep walking. “Never saw you in the father role but it suits you”, Laswell folds her arms in front of her chest. She never had the connection to her soldiers like Price does and Laswell knows exactly she just lost you and your skills to Price.

It takes weeks for you alone crying and trying to get back into being a soldier. You even took it onto yourself to tell your parents that Alex will probably be announced dead in a few months. It breaks your heart to see them devasted like you are, but it’s still better that they hear it from you instead from Laswell.

You hate yourself that it isn’t you who went missing. Alex was the better one of you in everything even if you always act confident. So, how should you go on with your life without him?

Fortunately, the Task Force 141 would never give you up. Since you work often together on missions they kind of turned into a second family next to your own family and Alex.

“What a nice surprise”, Price greets you smirking as you enter his office. “Captain, I’m ready to join the Task Force 141”, you can’t be on your own anymore. You need the team as your back-up to find peace once again.

“You are more than welcome, kiddo.”

Since you celebrated the holidays with your family and Alex when you weren’t on a mission, you couldn’t come back home alone. So, you just seduced the team to go with you. Let me tell you it’s chaos, but in the end good chaos.

Your parents are not happy about you bringing random soldiers home with you. They still mourn Alex like you do, but life goes on. The awkwardness shifts into pure bliss within a few days.

The whole team including you help out on the farm with your father. It’s what you and Alex did every time you get home. You all bring life back into their life.

Your mother loves to cook for all of you. The boys can’t help but enjoy to be cared for a few days.

And you can’t get over the fact that Gaz is actually scared of the goats. He wouldn’t even get near to feed them. “Have you an idea how brutal they can be?!”, Kyle tries to explain. The rest of the team just laughs about his behavior.

Soap knows how to drive a tractor, but dear lord! He is actually an awful driver and would destroy everything on his path. “Get off, Soap. This is madness!”

None of the men would admit but they are more than happy to get back home with you for the holidays again.

Of course, they can’t replace Alex, but they are also your family now.

[astraltrickster]

I want to make one thing very clear here:

There is absolutely no mistake that Hammer-Car Matt is transmisogynistic as fuck.

I do not want us to erase the fact that he is also racist, ableist (recall the "oh, the flashing ads are dangerous? pay for ad-free then lmao" incident), otherwise queerphobic, and generally just a self-righteous "I'm-not-a-bigot-BUUUUUUUT-" brand bruh moment in human form.

And I really do not want us to think of this FULLY as a Tumblr/Matt Problem, nor to pin it on lower-ranking staff members (a lot of them fucking hate him lmao). Remember, this started with a mass harassment/report-brigading campaign, which happen...a lot, sometimes to the most random innocuous posts imaginable (shoutout to that video of a Halloween skeleton on a ceiling fan that's now permanently blocked from public view as "sexually explicit" for SOME reason). All social media sees a lot of this problem, because the common aspects of the system for moderation are pretty damned exploitable and how to overhaul it to be less so is a bit of an open problem -

And most major and even semi-major social media sites are run by similar if not worse human embodiments of a wet fart who just don't care enough to do it - which I can only assume is part of why, at least by my observation over the years, he's gone from "out of touch but at least better than anyone who's run this place since before the Yahoo takeover" to all but changing his name to Barbra Streisand and moving to Malibu for how much deeper he insists on digging himself by doubling down on his bigotry.

In short: Fuck Matt, call him out for ALL of his bigotries, support your local transfems, your local POC bloggers, your local disabled bloggers, your other local "unpalatable" queers, and ESPECIALLY people who are all of the above, not only because it's a good thing to do but also because we're a lot stronger together,

And let's rebuild the small internet so we can stop being at the whims of rich bigoted petulant manchildren who are terrified of the Looney Toons.

[corpsebasil]

The Tent Scene

knight Nikolai and knight reader au

if you know you know. if you don’t read this.

dear GOOOOD

So The Tent Scene.

Like, the night that Sir Nikolai screws your brain out for the first time.

You’ve been circling each other for WEEKS during this campaign. Little touches there, lots of lingering stares, the way he absolutely eye-fucks you when you walk out for training in the morning and you’re wearing your skin-tight gods-damned training pants and a long-sleeve? You aren’t wearing armor so he can see every inch of you?

Dear lord so.

One night things went a littttle too far. You’d been sitting next to him around the campfire a bit of a distance away from the other knights, everyone laughing and boozing it up, happy to have a night off for once, when you felt his pinkie graze your thigh.

Just barely.

But when you sucked in your breath he fucking noticed. That bastard smirked and didn’t even look at you before his hand moved further, palm resting on your upper thigh. Fingers tightening when your breathing increased and you turned your head a fraction towards him.

When someone asked a question he stopped instantly, and WHY IS HE SO CALM AND CASUAL LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED HUH? YOU CANT EVEN ANSWER BECAUSE YOUR HEART IS RACING AND YOUR SKIN IS HOT AND YOU JUST WANT HIM TO **** *** **** *** ** ***.

So that night you’re heading to your tent, moving inside when you hear footsteps and then he’s there, your Captain, raising his eyebrows at you. You don’t talk—you don’t have to. Wordlessly you let him inside, glancing around before closing the flap.

Now, knights of your status have large tents. Large enough to stand up in. (Imagine the Grisha tents from the show. Like Zoya’s? That’s what yours looks like because duh, youre second in command.)

But the moment the flap shuts he’s grabbing your face and kisses you like his life depends on it, earning an obscene noise from you. AND THEN he’s moving the both of you backwards until you reach your makeshift bed and pressing his entire body against yours aND— AND—

Oh my god you’ve never been fucked so good before.

Like before he even went inside you he’d gone down on you more than once. He’s a menace I swear to god. Sir Nikolai is a munch do NOT argue with me.

And afterwards you hear a voice clear outside the tent and you both jump; it’s Sir Dominik, the knight on watch, and he just speaks very tired words that make your face red but make Nikolai grin. Like, a wicked ass grin. He’s smug about it, Jesus Christ.

“Can you two keep it down please? I’m trying to keep us safe out here.”

HAHHA

[theywontletmebeprincipal]

anyway here’s my cornley polytechnic drama society into the woods fancast because I think it’s the perfect sort of show for them to fuck up 👍

jonathan plays the baker, alongside sandra as the baker’s wife. I imagine this is shortly enough after peter pan that they’re still very bitter at one another. said bitterness absolutely shows onstage, but it fits the characters perfectly and the audience ends up thinking that they’ve just finally gotten good at acting. jonathan brings a homemade “medieval feast” to celebrate opening night and it poisons the entire cast

annie plays the witch. this was the only casting decision that was unanimously regarded as good until chris let it slip that he’d ultimately done it because she was “the loudest singer.” robert took great offense at this and, despite having no interest in the part before, began campaigning to play the witch instead. it did not work. annie’s witch costume has two layers to make the quickchange at the end of act 1 easier, but the top layer keeps falling off before the reveal is supposed to happen. her magic staff is supposed to emit a smoke effect but it keeps malfunctioning, and at a certain point she just gives up and tapes lit cigarettes (stolen from trevor) to it. this goes about as well as you’d think

dennis plays the narrator. everyone had assumed it’d be an easy role for him since he could just read all of his lines off his book prop, but this is proven wrong near instantly when he starts genuinely reading the book instead. when dennis actually does start reading from the script, it becomes immediately clear that he somehow has the director’s copy and the entirety of the rehearsal notes are read out loud, including several deeply personal things that chris has written in his script for convenience

dennis also plays the mysterious man, but he keeps forgetting which way he’s supposed to be related to the baker. over the course of the show he goes from father, to son, to brother, to father again, to distant cousin, to grandmother

chris plays cinderella’s prince, alongside robert as rapunzel’s prince. they spend the entire show trying to out-act one another, and it goes without saying that this ends up a complete disaster. robert makes any moment into an unplanned duet to try and prove that he could have succeeded in seducing the baker’s wife. chris shows up at rapunzel’s tower and attempts to choke robert out with her wig. they get in an opt-up battle at the end of agony (reprise) that ends with robert singing a note so high it shatters a stage light

in accordance with typical into the woods casting, chris also plays the wolf. he orders a very expensive “wolf suit” online from someone he thinks is a bespoke costume artist. it doesn’t arrive until opening day, and it becomes immediately clear that what chris has actually bought is a full on fursuit. it’s very hard to see in and he keeps running into the fake trees

robert is double cast as milky white. there is no practical reason for this whatsoever, as milky white could’ve just as easily been a puppet or some kind of cutout on wheels, and it’s very obvious the whole thing is just a power move on chris’ part. during the scene where milky white is meant to “eat” the props, vanessa misunderstands and literally feeds them to him. he chips a tooth on cinderella’s shoe

due to a lack of numbers, vanessa is playing both cinderella and rapunzel. her costume is split down the middle, and due to this she can only face in one direction as each part. this means that half of the time she’s facing away from whoever she’s talking to, and that she frequently has to walk/run backwards without turning her head at all. whenever cinderella and rapunzel talk to each other she faces straight forward. the break-off mechanism in rapunzel’s side of the wig doesn’t work (sandra ends up stealing a single, barely visible hair), so she’s also constantly tripping on her hair

max, being in a new relationship with sandra, desperately wanted to play alongside her as the baker so that they could kiss onstage. unfortunately for him, he is playing jack instead. although this is maybe the single most-fitting role he’s ever been cast in and he’s genuinely giving a great performance, the opportunity is ruined by his having to do every scene accompanied by robert’s milky white

lucy was supposed to play little red, but was pulled from the production the day before opening by her parents, who have banned her from performing with “robert’s troupe” after what happened in peter pan

consequently, little red is now being played by trevor, who is wearing a costume far, far too small for him. trevor manages to get away with reading his lines off papers pinned to the inside of his cloak, but he doesn’t know any of the songs, so sandra has to sing them offstage for him while he lipsyncs

all of the ensemble characters are played by a celebrity “guest” frantically switching between various comically large hats. chris tried to get francis back for this part but after some careful deliberation he determined that it would genuinely be easier to kidnap a famous person than to get francis to come back after the disaster that was peter pan. the tension is only worsened when, via a botched music cue, it’s revealed that francis is now an active member of trevor’s metal band

the giant was supposed to have been played by trevor via voiceover from the sound booth, but now that he’s onstage playing little red the part is left to approximately four members of the run crew who are desperately trying and failing to say the lines in unison. lucy breaks into the theatre sometime during the baker’s wife search sequence and takes over the giant’s part the next time she’s on, much to trevor’s dismay

the worst fuck-up award goes to annie, for accidentally knocking the supports out from under dennis’ narrator platform during last midnight and triggering a chain reaction in which every fake tree onstage topples each other one by one like some terrible, life-threatening game of dominos. honorable mention goes to chris for spending $6000 of max’s inheritance on a custom costume without actually seeing it at any point during the process

the worst injury award goes to max, for getting his circulation cut off and almost losing a hand after his arm got stuck inside the golden hen puppet midway through act 2. honorable mention goes once again to chris, who got stabbed with a bunch of glass shards when robert broke that stage light

[bigfan-fanfic]

Meddle, Just a Little (Male!Reader x Ryan Lucan)

How about a fic where Alex, being the empath she is, immediately recognizes that the new guy in town and Ryan are so obviously into each other and also that they're both useless and need a nudge in the right direction...or maybe a shove.

"You do know how stupid it is to try and lie to me about your feelings, right?"

"I'm not- I'm not lying, Alex. I'm not in love."

"I'm not even an empath and I can see that's a lie." Steph butts in.

Ryan sighs. "Look, I'm not denying that I have a crush, but... we don't even know anything about each other. And... people like me don't just... go in, guns blazing."

"Weren't you literally a park ranger? Isn't that what you did?"

Ryan scoffs, and Steph lightly punches his arm.

"I'm just saying - if you don't take any risk, you don't get any reward."

"She's right. You gotta live a little, Ryan." Alex chirps, leaning her head against Steph's shoulder.

"And that's my cue to head on home." Ryan smirks.

"Much appreciated, Mr. Lucan." Steph giggles as Alex nuzzles against her neck. "Just remember - cute moments like this could be yours for the low low price of actually making a move!"

"Goodnight, Steph. Alex."

Alex smiles softly at Steph once Ryan actually leaves. "We're gonna have to meddle, aren't we?"

"I'll leave the meddling to you, o smooth one."

"Wow, you're just full of sweet-talk today..."

And so begins Alex's campaign of subtle manipulation.

First off, she makes polite conversation with you, and since she and Steph co-run the record store and live above the bar Ryan took over after the mess with Typhon, she's not far from either you or Ryan, since the Black Lantern is a pretty good place to hang out and get food.

And it's clear to her immediately, that whenever Ryan is near, your emotions spike with a thrill of excitement and nervousness.

So she dives deeper, and quickly asks Ryan if he would mind if you joined them all on Game Night, and amidst glares at her, he says he would not.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I... totally told Charlotte I would take Ethan to the premiere of that movie! That movie he wants to see."

Steph is no actor, and very transparently adds, "And I have to go with you. Because... I'm the chaperone."

You chuckle. "Isn't Alex an adult?"

"Yeah, but you give her chocolate and she goes crazy!"

Alex raises an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Uh, feel free to hang out! It's a short movie, we can be back later-"

"But not too short, you know."

You sigh as they leave. "I'm sorry they roped you into this."

Ryan smiles. "They really don't leave well enough alone, do they?"

"I mean, I let slip one little time that I have a crush on you and they do this!"

Ryan freezes. "Well... I was under the impression that they did this because I had a crush on you."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I was gonna get around to actually asking you out." you say lamely. "It's just..."

"It's scary to put yourself out there. Even today."

"Yeah. Exactly."

Ryan chuckles. "Well... I hate to let them get away with it, but it might not be such a bad idea to go downstairs? Get a bite to eat together?"

You grin. "We can always get them back some other time."

He offers you his arm. "I figured I was crushing on you for a reason."

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 6

Day Five | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Seven

Pairing: Josh Lyman x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked.

Warnings: Lots of dialogue!!; phone sex; power imbalance; dirty talk; praise kink; masturbation

“Alright, we should wrap this up,” You insist, cradling the phone between your shoulder and your ear, your eyes straying from the wall clock toward your computer. 

“...Why?”

“Because you’re falling asleep over there.” 

“What? No. No.” You hear the rustle of Josh’s sheets on the other side of the phone as he pushes himself to sit up. “I’m up, I’m listening.” 

You smile. “It's alright, Lyman. You’ve had a long day.” 

He gives a muffled grunt on the other side of the phone, and you can practically imagine him scrubbing his hand across his face. 

“You’re one to talk,” He grumbles. “You’re still in the office.”

“Hey, I’m nearly through here. And you have a nice comfy campaign trail hotel room to indulge in.” 

“Not sure I'd call it comfy, but it’s not the worst I’ve been in.” 

“Describe it.”

“Uh…” Josh pauses. “It’s a lovely beige.”

“Oo, fancy.”

“Brown carpet.” 

“That’ll hide a lot of sins.” 

“That’s disgusting, thank you.” 

“How’s the bathroom?” 

“Decent, standard.” 

“Tiny soaps?” 

“Of course.” 

“Love those tiny soaps.” 

“I’ll bring one back for you.” 

“You’re a dear. How’s the bed?” 

“Comfortable.” 

“Well that’s good.” 

“It'd be better if you were here.” 

Your heart skips a beat, your jaw dropping open. Did he just…? You don’t hear a thing from Josh for a few moments, either. Maybe he’s wondering if he said that, too. 

“Wow,” You nervously tease, “You are tired.” 

“I didn’t mean to, uh—” He clears his throat, “Fuck, I wasn’t—” 

“It’s alright, Josh,” You soothe, “I know you didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Right.” 

“Because—you know.” 

“Long day.” 

“Exactly. So we’re fine.” 

“...Would we be fine if I did mean it?” 

Your stomach flips. You hesitantly leaned back in your seat, twisting your office chair back and forth and eyeing your closed office door, as if you expect someone to burst in at any moment.

“...Yeah,” You finally offered. “We would.” 

“You’re not just humoring me?” 

“I wouldn’t do that.” 

“It would be alright if you did,” Josh adds. “What I said is wildly inappropriate, and I am your boss.” 

“You don’t say.” 

“If you were saying this for the sake of tact, it would be understandable.” 

“I’m not, Josh.” 

“Okay.” 

Okay. Are the two of you just going to leave it there—? 

“I wanted you to come with us,” Josh admits softly. 

“On the trip?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What for?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we could’ve gotten a drink.” 

“Oh, a drink,” You chuckled. “Trying to ply me with wine to get me into that hotel bed?” 

“I think ply is a little strong.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Grab a drink, and then I’d tell you that I need your opinion on a brief.” 

“A brief. Like a written brief, or your personal briefs? Or are you more of a boxers man?”

“I’m going to let you find that out for yourself at a later date.” 

“I’m looking forward to that. So what’s your move?” 

“My move?”

“Yeah. You’ve got me in your room, I’d be two wines in, ‘cause I drink faster than you do—” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“So how do you, you know…Close the deal? Arm around the shoulder? Telling me I have an eyelash on my cheek and leaning in to blow it away?” 

“Honestly?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I think I’d just—Lean in and go for it.” 

“Kiss on the lips?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Very bold. I’m impressed.” 

“You know, I haven’t gotten the chance to shave in a couple of days,” He adds. 

“Mm, so your cheeks are kinda bristley?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’d like to feel that.” 

“Where?” Josh’s question makes your stomach flutter. You lean back in your seat, twitching back and forth. 

“My lips…”

“Mhm.” 

“My neck, maybe.” 

“Anywhere else?” 

Man, how much are you willing to give up to this man over the phone.

“Between my thighs,” You whisper. You squeeze your eyes shut in panic, silently praying that you haven’t taken it too far. It takes Josh a moment, but—

“I’d like that, too,” He murmurs. 

“Yeah?”

“Would you let me?” 

“Yes.” 

“If I was in your office with you right now?” 

“Yes.” 

“Fuck,” Josh breathes. Your eyes slide closed as you hear the clanking of his belt buckle on the other end of the phone. 

“Josh, are you…?” 

“Are you not?” 

“Are you serious?” You huff. “I’m at work.” 

“I am, too, technically.” 

“You’re not at a desk.” 

“There’s a desk in the room. You want me to sit at it?” 

“Oh, my god.” 

“...C’mon,” Josh goads softly. “Listen to me.” 

“Josh—” 

“Go lock the door.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and you swallow thickly. You’re not seriously going to…

“Hang on,” You mumble before you stand, gingerly setting the receiver on the desk. You hurry to the door and locking it before you turn, closing the blinds of your office. You reach back, double-checking that the door is locked before turning back to your desk to grab the phone. You move it to the small side table beside your couch. You take in a deep breath, steadying your swelling nerves before you reach down, taking the receiver up again. 

“...Okay.” 

“Is it locked?” 

“Yeah. Blinds are closed, too.” 

“Good girl.” 

You close your eyes at the murmur. He’s said it before when you’ve done well at work—always lightly, and always in passing, but god does it rile you up. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

“I’m touching myself,” Josh admits. 

“Are you naked?” 

“Almost…I’m guessing you’re still dressed.” 

“Yes, I am.” 

“Unbutton your shirt.” 

You reach down, undoing the buttons one by one before you push your shirt open. You reach down, shifting your skirt up as well as you lay down. You hesitantly raise your fingers, tracing over where your nipples are pebbling beneath the cups of your bra. 

“Are you still at your desk?” Josh asks. 

“I’m on the couch.” 

“Getting nice and comfortable?” 

“As comfortable as I can get.” 

“I know, you hate that fucking couch.” 

“Okay, not the time.” 

“Sorry,” He laughs. 

“Does that get you hard? Talking about my couch?” 

“No. Thinking about fucking you on it does, though.” 

You grin, laying down on the couch and swinging your legs up. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone on that trip,” You offered. “It would’ve been conspicuous if I’d gone into your room, but it wouldn’t have been so strange for the two of us to be hiding out in here.”

“That’s true.” 

You slide your hand down between your legs, fighting the feeling of utter filth. You’re at work for crying out loud. What if someone knocks on the door? What if they try to open it and find it locked? What the hell are they going to think? 

And why do these nerves feel so good?

Your heart ticks up in your chest, your breath hitching as you swirl your fingers over your clothed clit. 

“What are you thinking about?” Josh murmurs. 

“I’m thinking about you fucking your fist in that insanely beige room of yours.” 

Josh spits a curse on the other side of the phone, and you hear him shifting on the other side of the phone. 

“Are you—”

“Of course I am,” You insist, slipping your fingers beneath the band of your panties as you tip your head back against the arm of the couch. 

“How does it feel?” 

You swallow thickly, trailing your fingers along your plump lips and feeling the wetness gathering there.

“I’m so goddamn wet, Josh.” 

“I wanna taste you,” He groans. “The second I get back—” 

“Mhm—” 

“I’m gonna lay you out on that stupid fucking couch. You’re gonna have to be nice and quiet for me, or everyone’s gonna know what we’re doing.” 

“Oh, god,” You whimper, sinking two fingers into your aching cunt. 

“Or do you want that?” He presses, “Want everyone to know how good I’m making you feel? Want them to hear how I take care of my girl?” 

His girl. Your pussy throbs around your fingers at the assertion. You shift your hips up into your hand, grinding the heel of your palm against your needy clit. 

“Wanna take care of you, too,” You admit.

“Yeah?” 

“I wanna make you cum, Josh. I wanna feel it—” 

“Fuck—Where?” 

“Everywhere. I want it in my mouth, I want it on my skin…I want it inside me, Josh.”

Josh growls low, curses and murmurs of your name falling from his lips. Your body goes hot as you chase your orgasm, listening to Josh fall apart on the other side. You sag back against the lumpy couch, gazing up at the ceiling as your heart races. You suddenly feel sort of silly, half-naked in your damn office. 

“...Still there?” Josh speaks up after a moment, his voice cracking a touch as he does. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“You okay?”

“Yes,” You ease your fingers from your pussy, shivering as the pads brush your tender clit. 

“Regretting it?” 

“No…Are you?” 

“Nope.”

“Good,” You sigh softly. “When are you coming back, again?” 

“Next Monday.” 

“That feels like an eternity from now.”

“I know,” He laughs softly. “But I’ll call.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Okay.” 

“Wrap up whatever it is that you’re doing and go home.” 

“Yeah, I will, I just, uh…Couple more emails that I need to send.” 

“Make it quick.” 

“No, I will, I will.” 

“Good…Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“Goodnight.”

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @wild-rose-35 ; @daisyslibrary ; @informally-liz ; @andrastesflamingtitties ; @muchacha-encabronada ; @nerdygirl0414; @elen-aranel ; @ohbee-whatcanyoube ; @kmc1989 ; @quietpainter ; @thedreadandthefugitivemind ; @kaletastrophes ; @nyx2021

[utilitycaster]

but you do have to admit that you write your 2k meta's mostly because you want (negative) attention? otherwise I don't understand why you are not writing more of your faves instead?

Sure! I can explain why I wrote this piece, which I assume is the reason you're asking this now.

I wrote it because I naturally had thoughts about the group dynamics of Bells Hells after the episode and started thinking about why this group is so disconnected this far into the campaign when, for example, the Mighty Nein, who had far more friction and conflict early on in the campaign, were positively ride or die by this point. I also really did genuinely find the degree of pressure that Imogen and Laudna have been putting on Fearne to be excessive and had been quietly thinking about it since episode 75 - they were the ones to initially make a big deal about "Emperor and Empress" (the fact that Ashton mentioned the party's positive reinforcement of the shard's retrieval being a factor in their choice is relevant here), I was reminded by someone else regarding Laudna's immediate shutdown of Fearne's attempt to tell the truth in episode 77, and then they called her out in front of everyone after she had expressed that she didn't want it to Morri. It made a clear pattern that I felt was interesting to explore, and in doing so I started asking myself if there were other patterns of behavior. I linked to someone else's post as well in there that talked about how Imogen and Laudna pretty much always act together in group discussions in my post because that was also an inspiration, and I've also talked a lot in the past about how Imogen and Laudna rarely bring up their own sources of conflict with each other, so the fact that their accusations towards Fearne are in the same scene where Imogen expresses disgust about Delilah's presence also is very relevant to their general group dynamics, since their own relationship with each other is very central to how they interact with the group.

I do write about my favorite characters as well. I wrote pretty extensively about Ashton after episode 78, as well as a bit about their conversation with Orym, but Ashton just had their big moment of explosion and I need to let that simmer or something else to happen before I have any longer posts. I've also, if not written anything myself, reblogged a lot of great posts about Chetney's fantastic reveal which I think tied up that whole exercise beautifully with a truth that was not a passive-aggressive accusation of others nor a self-flagellation but a realization of his own behaviors as well as an explanation to the group without expecting anything in return. In talking about the shard I did touch on my main feelings about Fearne in this situation but again I think I need to see how she actually reacts to the information she received here to actually have meta of substance, rather than "oh, interesting." And you can go through my archives if you'd like to see more; I'm usually pretty good about tagging by character.

But also: I like writing criticism, specifically. It is fun for me. I find that writing helps me arrange my ideas and understand them better, and sometimes I even change my opinion when I revisit the text or find my argument doesn't hold together on an intellectual level, even if I feel something emotionally. I've changed my mind about characters before through writing meta! Sometimes more positively, sometimes more negatively, but it happens, because the act of writing meta, if you do so well, is an act of interrogating your own pre-existing opinions and making sure they make sense to people who aren't you.

I also think there's value in writing things that aren't universally positive. Again, it forces you to actually think through what isn't working for you or what you dislike or what traits characters have that you think are causing problems for people around them rather than just saying UGH THIS SUCKS. But also, writing up how you'd fix a plot you don't like or how you'd resolve a conflict requires you have empathy for the creators or for the characters. Sometimes, even if a piece isn't, in your opinion, good, writing criticism of it helps you understand why a creator may have made that choice you didn't like. You can disagree or dislike something while still respecting it, and making yourself explain it to other people is a really good way to process your own feelings rather than stewing in them. I find people who never express any negativity openly are often deeply resentful and unpleasant and passive-aggressive. Indeed, that's arguably the whole point of that honesty exercise! This party keeps trying to smooth things over and so a lot of valid concerns or complaints they have about each other have since metastasized into something far more hurtful.

I can't speak for everyone, but a lot of meta writers write meta because it's genuinely a fun hobby for them. When I was writing my piece about Dimension 20's genre experiments I stayed up later than I should have several times because it was interesting and I wanted to make sure I didn't forget how I was planning out the piece. I like writing a lot, and I've always preferred to write essays and criticism to fiction - I like to think I have a knack for the former that doesn't come as naturally for the latter. My brain jumps to analysis more easily than the invention of plot.

If you don't like the things I chose to write about, that's completely valid. But I'm not doing it for negative attention. I'm doing it because it's enjoyable for me. How you respond to it and how it makes you, specifically, feel, doesn't enter into my consideration. It's 2k words because that's how long it took me to say what I was thinking and it's about Imogen and Laudna's effect on the group dynamic as I understand it because that's what I was thinking about since it was very present in this episode, and I wrote it because I like writing.

Hopefully that explains it!

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 36 part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Breakfast Al Fresco

After a nightmare about falling into the burial mounds, Wei Wuxian wakes up all misty.

I guess this is supposed to be sweat, but sweat is usually not distributed in a fine spray over the surface of a person’s face like this, at least not the kind that happens while you sleep. My fellow menopausal people can attest to this.

For the first and probably last time in their lives, Wei Wuxian is up for breakfast before Lan Wangji. 

This means that we, not Lan Wangji, get to watch him eat. 

What? I’m a simple woman with simple interests.

(more behind the cut!)

I Sit And Watch the Children Play

While he eats his breakfast, Wei Wuxian watches a group of kids playing “Sunshot Campaign,” complete with shooting toy arrows at a kite that represents the sun. A reference, presumably, to that kite that Wang Lingjiao used as an excuse to attack Lotus Pier.

Doing things I used to do They think are new

Wei Wuxian smiles with genuine pleasure, watching these small fry play-acting the central trauma of his and his peers’ lives; only the mention of Jin Zixuan’s death brings his mood down. 

He appears to carry his damage very lightly, but we know that this bright morning began with a nightmare. Perhaps every morning begins that way, but he is an expert at clearing his mind and embracing The “Now” of Wolf Thought the  present moment. 

Seeing kiddie Hanguang-Jun and Jiang Cheng cheers him right back up again. Kudos to whoever was in charge of casting kids in this show. I particularly love baby Nie Mingjue’s big boss energy. 

BBNMJ: Don’t make me shank you

The kiddos do a good job of embodying the conflicts of the cultivation world, roleplaying a bunch of guys trying to be in charge while smack-talking the other guys who want to be in charge. 

Wei Wuxian politely asks the kids where’s Yiling Laozu? which sets up a gag in which their...nanny? shows up and hollers at them and they call her Yiling Laozu and run away. It’s funny and it does illustrate Wei Wuxian’s ongoing bad reputation. 

It misses an opportunity, though, to show us a cute baby Yiling Laozu like the one we see in the Donghua. 

There’s Got To Be A Morning After

Lan Wangji finally emerges from the inn, and proceeds to have more facial expressions in 60 seconds than he usually has in an hour.

Wei Wuxian has a good time teasing him about his drunkenness, while managing not to actually tell him any of the things that happened, other than their discussion about rabbits. 

Note that this conversation is even more entertaining if you mentally substitute the word “ass” for the word “rabbit.” 

Trust Me

Wei Wuxian mercifully changes the subject, asking Lan Wangji if he recognized the Ghost-Masked guy’s sword style. Lan Wangji doesn’t remember anything from last night except the sword fight, which is very on brand for him. He loves: sword fighting, rules, and Wei Wuxian, not in that order.

Wei Wuxian, because he has a perception bonus of +10, noticed that the dude put a spell on his sword to disguise it, meaning that he and his sword must both be well-known cultivators. He also noticed that the dude knew Lan Clan sword moves. Wei Wuxian very gently asks if the guy is someone that Lan Wangji knows. 

Lan Wangji thinks for a moment and says No. Wei Wuxian accepts his answer so readily that Lan Wangji is taken aback, and thinks that WWX doesn’t believe him. 

He asks if Wei Wuxian trusts/believes/believes in him, using the same word,信, that we looked at in Episode 33, and that will come up again in a couple more places. 

Wei Wuxian reassures him, although his reasoning--that Hanguang-Jun has never spoken a lie--is not 100% correct. Unless we think he really was night hunting in Yiling all those years ago. 

At this point the Qiankun bag of Plot Convenience tells them to mosey along to scenic Yi City.

An Inauspicious Place

When they approach their destination, we get to see the more mellow side of their camaraderie; their interaction has a lot of the flavor of their first road trip together, but with more maturity and mutual respect. As in the old days, Wei Wuxian handles the social interactions, talking to a dude by the road to get directions, while Lan Wangji hangs back. 

In discussing the name of the place, Lan Wangji listens with interest while Wei Wuxian explains the layered meaning of the name, and we’re reminded that Wei Wuxian was a formidable scholar before his life went to shit. 

Wei Wuxian 2.0 has some catching up to do, both in cultivation and in reading, to be a match for his 30-something boyfriend once again, but his fundamentals are strong as hell.

When they reach the gate of the city they take a moment to share some unnecessary eye contact. They probably think they’re about to have a fun low-angst adventure. 

They start walking through the almost-deserted town, which has random paper funeral swag rolling around. The whole town was apparently focused on funerals and making funerary offerings, which seems like an unreliable basis for an economy. 

Everything is covered in a haze that makes things difficult for sword dudes and gifmakers.  They’re led a little ways into town by a mysterious running person, who is A-Qing running at breakneck speed, presumably to hide from Xue Yang while she also tries to make contact with the newcomers. 

A little more running, and Wei Wuxian find a whole crowd of juniors, including all of our favorites. Bright boy Sizhui immediately figures out that if “Mo Xuanyu” is here, Lan Wanji must be here too. Jingyi immediately fangirls about Hanguang-Jun, recognizing Bichen’s sword light through the haze. 

Jin Ling has never had a cool teacher in his high school, so he doesn’t get what the fuss is about.

Wei Wuxian encourages the kids to dump a heap of exposition about why they are here. They are here because the plot wants them to be here. 

Then they start squabbling, because they are a bunch of teenage boys, and Lan Wangji, who is not anywhere in sight, silences them with the Lan silencing spell. Despite the fact that they’re all lost in a fog in a strange, inauspicious place. Fuck safety, amirite?

Naturally the next thing that happens is a bunch of zombies come up behind Wei Wuxian and the kids try to warn him, but without speech they’re reduced to impassioned pointing. Don’t bother drawing your swords, you useless twits. 

Wei Wuxian temporarily stops the zombies with a finger snap, but then they start up again. Lan Wangji shows up and guqins them into oblivion, accidentally poisoning a random selection of juniors in the process. 

The adults figure out that there’s a Yin Tiger Seal in operation, but it’s not Wei Wuxian’s. Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to brag about his superior corpses.

Lan Wangji: I know, dude; I distinctly recall one of those fuckers slicing my Wei-Ying-catching arm open

Then the ghost-mask dude shows up to fight, making the most of the low visibility and his uncanny ability to not actually be in the scene for most of the fighting. 

Camera Operator: sword fighting while I hold this camera sure is difficult

Lan Wangji elegantly goes after Ghost Mask guy, heading over the rooftops to have a smoke a prolonged offscreen fight while Wei Wuxian handles things in town for the next...hour or two? However long it takes to make congee, anyway.

Wei Wuxian leads the kids to find a house with a functioning kitchen so he can cook up a remedy for the poisoning. 

He tells the juniors that getting poisoned is good because it’s an experience they can talk about when they’re older. By that measure, Wei Wuxian has had the best life of anybody ever. 

They find a creepy house with a creepy lady who has corpse lines on her neck, which is as good as things get here in Yi City, so Wei Wuxian talks his way in.

 He’s very polite but he shows the juniors that he’s got the door blocked with his foot so that he can push his way in if necessary. 

Sizhui lights a candle and all of the kids freak out when they see the full-size paper servants hanging from the rafters, even though paper servants would be a pretty normal thing to see in their lives, and they are all, like, professional ghost and monster hunters. 

Wei Wuxian, looking fine as hell, steps into the creepy lady’s room to ask her permission to use her kitchen. He notices that she’s working in the dark and sees the lines on her neck, but he’s not prejudiced against corpses so he doesn’t comment. He uses his beautiful hands to thread her needle for her before going to cook fire congee for the juniors. 

Soundtrack: As Tears Go By, by Marianne Faithfull or by The Rolling Stones, take your pick; There’s Got To Be a Morning After by that girl in The Poseidon Adventure. 

Further Reading: The “Now” of Wolf Thought is a reference to Elfquest, which is an awesome comic book series that launched back when I was a teen. You can read all of them for free at Elfquest.com without registering or anything. 

Bonus: Beautiful Hanguang-Jun

[darling-i-read-it]

Sorry

Phillip Graves x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: mw2 spoilers, spoilers for the new packs and online campaigns and things, (me knowing NOTHING about the military. I just be googling words. I am very sorry if they are wrong! I also didn’t play the online stuff so I had to read on that too. So much work for u philip), the reader leaving price and ghost behind technically, grief, heavy insinuation to smut, VIOLENCE like a lot. Reader kills people and has a mini extensional crisis about it, let me know if I missed anything! 

Author’s Note: me: i’m so normal about him.  Also me: writes a six thousand word fanfiction about my delusions 

Summary: You and Phil had been together when he ‘died’ in the tank. You’ve been grieving him ever since, not knowing he was still out there. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

When he was up in the air, sometimes Phil Graves thought about home. He thought about the way the air felt in the south. The heavy humidity of a late night around a fire with family and friends. His childhood home, a two story house with some land. The feeling of flannels over his shoulders, wind against his face when he rode the truck late at night, stupid country songs playing through the radio. He only let himself have these moments briefly. When he was up in the air and everyone was quiet with anticipation. No one wanted to talk about the moments before a descent, the seconds before disaster. 

That was when he let himself think of home. 

He thought of the world he used to call his own. He loved his job and he thought he was doing good with it. But sometimes he wondered what would’ve happened had he stayed back after high school, instead of hoping on the military like it was a moving train. 

Whoever that was, he was gone now. 

Shadow 0-1. Commander. That’s who he was now. That’s who he was always meant to be. That’s who he had been when he betrayed 141’s trust. That’s who he was when he got out of it. That’s who blew up in the tank in South America. That’s who misses you. 

“You good boss?” Phil snapped out of his thoughts. He nodded once. 

“Golden, Sparks. Thinking about dinner when we get back tonight.” 

“You makin barbecue?” 

“I sure am. Got a damn fine steak to cook.” 

“You really oughta have more get-togethers, like old times.” Phil gave his subordinate a thin lipped smile. He fondly remembered the times when he would bring his closer soldiers around, cook for them, listen to shitty music, drink beers. In the back of his eyelids he could see you, handing him the tongs, making a joke about his dad barbeque. He would tease you about children. 

He had stopped having them after the mission where he left some behind. He hadn’t wanted to; the strain in his voice was clear. But he had. 

“Maybe when I’m legally back from the dead,” he countered. Sparks chuckled and Graves stood up. It was far better to be back in the commanding position with his guys, the same ones who would follow him into fire. It distracted him from the rest of it. The house he lost, the home he no longer had. 

He had this. 

-

You brushed your hair out of your face. You messed with the glass in your hand, rolling it around the ring on the wooden table. The ice had melted into the alcohol, making it watery and less effective. It was cold outside, fall finally taking hold. You were wearing a thin jacket that seemed useless. 

This drink was Phil’s regular. You remembered it like the back of your hand, ordering it when he was caught up behind the crowds. It tasted like his lips after a long night out. It was warm, like his breath on your skin. 

“You listinin’?” You lifted your head. You had been staring at your half drank glass. Simon Riley’s eyes met yours. They were objectively beautiful. You would never understand why he kept them mostly covered up. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” He let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry. I just got lost in thought. What were you saying?” 

“I was asking what you thought about Price going back out there so soon.” 

“You of all people know what it’s like to be married to your work.” 

“You aren’t irked he’s going without you?” His accent was thick. It was rare to get him to talk like this but you had known each other so long, it felt ormal now. He seemed unnatural when he clammed up in missions. 

You shook your head. 

“I’ll get back into it,” you told him. You cleared your throat. His eyes narrowed down, staring at you. His long face felt threatening, though you knew better. You stared back at him, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow. “Stop staring at me like that.”

“How many times does Soap have to apologize for you to get over it?” You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. 

“Stuff it Simon.” 

“I won’t. It’s been a year. We’ve given you your time, we’ve apologized, we’ve been nice and cordial about it. You need to realize who Graves was and that what happened to him was warranted. There’s only so many times we can spell it out for you before we stop babying you.” As he spoke, your head continued to shake. It felt like the words were rattling around in your brain, bouncing off your skull. He was right, you knew that. But the words still stung.  

“You don’t understand,” you protested. He cut you off. 

“I know I don’t. You’ve told me.” You leaned back in your chair, your glass landing with a light clang. “Love,” he muttered, leaning forward. “It’s time.” 

You wished you could be done with it. You wished that his words could will all the pain to subside. You wished you didn’t have to suck it up when Soap followed Phil to the tank and blew it up. You wished you could forget about the moment you held your tongue, knowing that if you spoke up you would be a traitor too. You wished everything was different.

You didn’t want it to hurt anymore. You didn’t want to wake up and think he was next to you, even now. It got better as the time passed but it never fully went away. You knew it was never going to subside completely, always stuck to you like a stain you couldn’t get out. 

“I’m trying,” you promised. “I’m trying.” 

“You need to come to the next one.” Everytime you put on a headset you could hear Soap's words. Graves is KIA. How’s Price? He moved past it with such grace you almost missed it the first time. 

“I’ll try.” 

“You need to do more than that.” You swallowed hard. 

“I know.” -

“I’m glad you’re here.” Price's voice was low but gentle. Careful. Like you were an object that would break if he spoke to you the wrong way. 

“Me too,” you said, nodding. Your voice sounded fake and you knew it. You only agreed to this because you knew you had to. You had Price here and Ghost promised he would do all the heavy lifting. It would be nothing. The men you trusted would have your back when you flew out to enemy territory. “You didn’t have to lobby for me, you know.” You had become a liability the second Graves became a traitor. The already rocky relationship with the Shadows was broken clean in half. You were a problem now. 

“I wanted to. You’re one of my best shooters.” 

“Did Simon tell you to?” 

“He gently nudged me.” He had his helmet on, the strap under his chin. It had been a while since you saw him in uniform. 

“Where are we going again?”

“You should really read the debriefs.” You shrugged. You used to, religiously. You would tell Phil classified information like it was pillow talk. He would give it back to you after coffee in the morning. You cleared your throat. 

“I do. I just trust you more than the papers,” you joked halfheartedly. 

“Don’t worry too much. It’s all scouting, no shooting.” 

“Why’re you bringing me and Ghost then?” 

“I like hanging out with you guys.” You laughed, this time for real. He gestured forward. “Let’s head out.” 

-

You could only see the blocks of land below you in the plane. You wondered who was living in the little houses the size of dots. You wondered if they were happy. You could feel the sweat piling in your uniform. 

“There’s some guns held in a storage facility. They shouldn’t be heavily guarded but will be servilenced,” Price said. He spoke above the noise in the plane, loud and rumbling. “Ghost, you’ll go ahead. I’ll be down there outside the building, watching your six. Y/L/N, you’re up here on guns.” 

“It’s boring up here,” you complained. “Can’t I come with you guys?” 

“We need you on your A game to be on the ground,” Ghost said, coldly. You gave him a look but couldn’t read his expression with the mask. Price was avoiding your eyeline on purpose, you could feel it. It almost felt like a fake mission, something to get you back out there without putting you in real danger. Though you were vaguely insulted, it was nice to know they cared. You tried to shove your feelings aside. 

“Alright,” you said finally. “Fine.” 

“You’re good on guns,” Price said. “An Eagle eye will ensure everyone's safety.” 

“I already said alright Price,” you said as gently as you could manage. The plane started to slow down to a hover. Price stood up, using the railing above to steady himself. 

“You ready?” Simon questioned, coming up behind you as you stood up. You nodded once. Muscle memory would kick in before your panic would. Everything would be fine. 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

“You’ll be fine.”

“I know.” 

Ghost gave you one last pat on the back before he walked towards the back of the plane. You watched him go, his hand on his side, looped around his belt. Price followed behind. He turned back to look at you, the wind rushing towards the front. You tried to keep your face neutral, professional. Your bones ached with familiarity. This was okay. This would be okay. 

You turned towards the guns. The plane had a designated corner for them, buttons lining the walls. You zoomed in on the house that was holding the guns, turning it to infrared. You sat down at the chair, leaning over it. You didn’t need to put on all your gear to push some buttons but you refrained from complaining. 

“You hear me clear up there?” Ghost’s voice came through your ear piece. 

“Yes sir. Loud and clear.” You could see Ghost’s little figure as he landed. “I’m seeing two hostels outside of the building. On either side of the doors, they both have guns.” “Roger,” Ghost said. You followed his heat signature. Price had also made his way to the ground.

“What’s the house looking like?” he asked. You moved your camera along, narrowing in on the building. You could see men walking. Patrolling. You couldn’t help but wonder how many guns were being held there. The building was larger than Price made it seem. Were they in the heart of the building, with the clump of men? 

“Lots,” you admitted. 

“Give me a ballpark,” Price responded. You could see Ghost down there, taking out the men. He was always quick with it. Sometimes you forgot that the man you shared drinks with was a cold blooded murderer. You would not want to be at the other end of his knife. 

“Ten upstairs. Can’t tell how many downstairs. Probably 20?”

“That’s quite a few people for some guns,” Ghost chimed in. 

“No kidding,” you muttered. “I can see some on the balcony. I’m ready to hit whenever Cap.” 

“Roger,” Price responded. You went to hone in, aiming just in case Ghost needed back up quicker than you could aim.

The plane jerked right, causing you to lose focus. You cursed, shutting one eye to get a clearer view. You painlessly lined it back up. Just as you had it, the plane jerked again. 

“Hey man!” you called to the front. “Steady!”

“You seein this?” the pilot called. You turned back towards the infrared. Ghost hadn’t made it inside yet. You got out of your chair and pushed aside the door to the cockpit. Through the large window you could see another plane making its way towards you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How could someone know you were here? 

“Enemy plane?” you asked. 

“Not on any paths,” he admitted. “I’m willing to bet.” You quickly pivoted back towards the infrared. 

“Hey boys, we got some company up here.” 

“We need to secure this area,” Price said. His voice had gone rough. Professional now.

“If they’ve got more men, we aren’t securing shit,” you told him. 

“I’m going through the downstairs,” Ghost added. With his voice you could hear gunshots and commotion. You cursed and sat back down. 

“Do I have permission to shoot Price?” 

“Yes,” he responded, quickly. You pushed down on the trigger, taking out the men on the balcony. They fell with ease. You looked back towards the cockpit. The plane was only getting closer. You could hear the pilot trying to contact it, like it was a civilian plane. The menacing figure loomed in the air. 

“How much longer?” you asked. 

“Five minutes,” Ghost responded. 

“Fuck,” you muttered. “We don’t have five minutes.” 

“Make five minutes.” You stood back up and went back to the cockpit. You put your hand on the chairs. 

“It’s an AC-130,” the pilot called. “Military.” 

“I’m going down,” you yelled. “Get me down there.” There was little protest from the pilot. You grabbed your gun off the chair. The back hatch lowered. The wind rushed towards you. The air was threatening with how fast it blew. It was like the whole world was going to be sucked into the plane. 

You took a deep breath. Life or death. Your friends would die if you didn’t do something. 

You turned back towards your safe spot in the plane. It looked more dangerous by the second. Each moment you hesitated was a moment wasted. 

You turned back towards the entrance. You grabbed the leftover parachute and buckled it tightly. 

And you jumped. 

There was a moment of sheer panic. You forgot the reason you were in the air, you just knew you were freefalling. You were rushing towards the hard ground, towards the sound of gunfire. Everything felt fake for about ten seconds. 

Then you pulled on the parachute line and drifted towards the ground. 

“What’re you doing down here?!” Ghost said in your ear. You wondered if he could see you through the window. 

“Helping!” you called back. Price was right. You were one of his best shooters, handicapped or not. You rushed forward, shielding yourself with a large rock. You looked down at the gun, the familiar feeling in your hand. You took a deep breath, checking to make sure it was loaded and ready. Then you turned around and started to shoot. 

There was so much going on that it was almost simple. You couldn't focus on one thing so you tried to just breathe. Each shot was a breath. You didn’t think about how that was a person's life. Each shot a family member, a father, a sister. You forgot all of that as you focused on your breathing and your aiming. 

“They’re deploying from the plane!” Price said in your ear. You still had no idea where he had gone. 

“We should call for backup!” you said back. “Gaz’ll be here in twenty minutes!” 

“Soap is closer,” Ghost said. He was in the house. You could tell by the amount of silence around him. He must have cleared the floor. 

“Call someone!” you yelled. Price’s voice started to drone on but you didn’t pay much attention. You moved closer to the house, sticking close to cover. Blood was smearing your clothes now. How many people were here? How many people would come? 

You looked up at the enemy plane. There had been a constant train of people but now they were slowly diminishing. 

You came to a startled stop beside a body that had landed next to cover. You reloaded, your back against the wood, your eyes looking towards the body without thinking. Your head snapped back up but when it registered something familiar, it looked back at the body. 

You kneeled all the way down. Your fingers brushed a Shadows patch, engraved on the lifeless soldiers' clothing. Your head started to blur. You hadn’t seen that symbol in months. Its patchwork was now smeared with blood, likely your doing. You ripped off the soldier's helmet. 

You recognized him. 

Sparks. He had come over for a barbecue. He helped Phil cook. The taste of brisket hit your tongue. The smell of a campfire. 

You scampered onto the ground, almost falling over to get away from him. The sounds of gunfire started to muffle. Your breathing grew ragged. Was someone speaking? You held your gun tightly, like it was the only thing holding you to the ground. Was that Price’s voice? You looked around, the sun suddenly blaring. You should’ve come at night. There were clouds. How dare there be clouds when people were dying? You wanted Simon. You wanted Phil. 

Someone came around your cover. You raised your gun, a fumble really. You raised it to the soldier in front of you, finger on the trigger, fully intending to shoot. The man in front of you had halted completely. His gun stayed on you, capable of killing you easily, but it remained. He had a helmet on. The glare of the sun covered his face. 

Your hands were still shaking. 

Suddenly things felt very quiet. A subtle movement of the soldier revealed a glimpse of his face. A face you knew very well. 

It all flashed in your mind. His morning snoring, the shitty dad jokes, his guttural laughter. The sound of his truck starting. His mom’s phone number. The first thing you bought for your shared apartment. The taste of his lips. The feeling of his hands on your skin. HIs eyes in the moonlight. The feeling that you could never shake when he died. 

He turned and ran. You stood up. You gathered your bearings and followed him, almost slipping on yourself to do so. He couldn’t get very far. People were shooting at you but you had him as a cover. You shoved him down and disarmed him. It usually wouldn’t have been easy to do. Maybe he let it happen. You pulled his collar so you could land behind a discarded car. He struggled against you as you ripped off his helmet completely, disconnecting whatever comm he was using. 

His hands reached forward for yours and he took it off, not even bothering to unbuckle your chin strap. His touch felt like a ghosts. The same calloused hands that promised you the world. Your eyebrows furrowed, recognition in your eyes. You reached forward, not thinking. You cupped his face, your fingers sprawled on his cheek and neck. 

“Phil?” you whispered. He couldn’t hear you over the commotion but he could read your lips. He knew what his name looked like coming from your mouth. 

He didn’t know you were going to be here. If he had, he never would have come. He can’t do this, he can’t blow his cover like this. He had been told maybe Price would make an appearance but you had been out of the field since his death. He was breathing heavily. He couldn’t come near you because he would cave. It was hard enough being without you, checking his phone like you would text him. 

“Y/L/N?! Y/N!” Your comm was going insane. It was on the ground though, forgotten. 

He was alive. Phillip was alive. His face was there and it was moving, all flesh and blood. You never thought you would see him again except in pictures and videos, ones where you had memorized all his movements. 

“Phillip Graves?”

“Yeah baby. Yeah.” His voice was quiet, like he was in disbelief too. You fought the tears rising to your eyes.

“How..how are you here?”

“Long story. “

“I wanna hear it.” 

“Your men are shooting my men right now,” he said, like it was a minor inconvenience. 

You snapped back into reality. Suddenly all the sounds became crystal clear again. Time resumed. You grabbed your comm and put it to your ear. 

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” you said. 

“Come back with me,” Phil said quickly. 

“What?” He grabbed your comm, putting it in his back pocket.. You reached for it like a child, even letting out a gentle unintentional whimper. 

“Come back with me,” he repeated. “Get in my plane.”

“You’re dead. You died in a tank in South America!” 

“You should know MacTavish couldn’t take me out.” He cupped your face with both his hands. You had never felt something so good. “Quickly. Yes or no.” 

He dreaded a no. He knew Shepherd would have you killed or kidnapped. You couldn’t go back to your friends, knowing what you now knew. They could come up with a retaliation before Graves had even gotten on his feet again. 

You had been waiting months for him to come back to you. The answer, despite your morals and your stress, seemed to slip off your tongue easily. 

“Yes. Yes I’ll go with you.” He smiled, a genuine smile, covered in dirt and grime. 

“C’mon baby. Follow me.” He put his comm back in his ear and grabbed your hand. He held it tightly, like you would slip away. “I’m going back up. How’re we lookin?”

“Significant casualties. The shooter on the edge is killing us.”

“I got her,” he responded. He looked back towards you and you both stood up. He nodded towards the plane, which still had the latter hanging down. “The guns?” 

“The house is being defended. We haven’t been able to break through.” 

“We can’t afford to lose those. Do what you have to.” He held your hand tightly, dragging you through the battlefield. You passed those that had died in the rubble. You wondered if you had been the cause. Your head was spinning, looking towards the house. You couldn’t even think yet, things were going so fast. All you knew was Phil and his hand in yours. 

He grabbed your hips, helping you onto the first step of the ladder. 

“I’m comin back up,” he said into his comm. “Someones ahead of me, foreign. Do not shoot. I repeat, do not shoot.” There was a muffled reply. He climbed all the way to the top with you, helping you up onto the plane floor. You pulled yourself up and stood in the middle of the hanger. There was barely anyone left up there. You looked towards the window. 

Price. Simon. 

You had left them. You hadnt’ meant to. You hadn’t even thought for longer than a moment about it. You put your hand flush against the glass, looking down. You wanted them to make it out okay. They would surely think you had died. 

You hadn’t thought this through. 

Your favorite ghost had returned and asked you to go to hell with him. You hadn’t even thought.

“Price. Ghost,” you said, quickly. You turned to Graves, panicked. “Let them go. Don’t hurt them.” 

“I need those guns.” You had heard his work voice before, the slur between charming and serious. At that moment, his voice was all game. He was giving you an order. 

“I need them to live.” 

“They shouldn’t have come.”

“I came.” Phil pursed his lips, chewed the inside of his cheek. He looked towards the pilot and the men still in the plane. Your eyes were back out the front window, seeing the plane you had just come out of. You had just been there, standing in that cockpit. The feeling was eerie, tingling in the back of your neck. “Phil please.” 

Graves thought for a moment. He looked towards you, your pleading puppy dog eyes. He could see you in the morning, when he said goodbye before work. He could see your back in the bathroom mirror, foggy from a shower. Your favorite cereal on his taste buds. The way you had your coffee. 

“We’re losing numbers down here!” a voice came in his ear. He looked back down towards the house. Ghost was taking his men out one by one. Price was likely sneaking behind them, sniping from somewhere. 

But Phil was a proud man. He wasn’t going to let those people die for no reason. 

“Those men are dead down there,” he said, evenly. He approached you. His hand gripped your arm. “They can’t have died for nothing.” 

“Let me call them off. Give me something to call them off,” you pleaded. He groaned in retaliation but gave you your comm back. You put it in your ear.

“I’m getting overwhelmed here!” Ghost exclaimed. 

“Get out of there! Get out of there!” you said, desperately. You turned back to the window. “There’s too many of them. They keep coming.” 

“She’s right,” Price said, voice gruff. “We need an exit. Soap is on his way.”

“To help?” 

“Not enough manpower right now. We have to take this loss.” You could practically hear Ghost’s annoyance. He had done all this and it would’ve been for nothing? He groaned. You stood there, deathly still. “Get to the southside of the building,” Price demanded. “Both of you.” You looked back at Phil, who was staring eagerly. You nodded once. He patted your back, turning back to the pilot. 

“Set up post.” 

-

Some men made their way back up to the plane. Others stayed down below to hold down the fort. The ones you recognized starred as they passed you, sitting in the front seat, just behind Graves. He made no comment on you being there. Didn’t talk on the way back to base. 

He knew he would have to face Shepherd about it. He just happened to figure he would win. Shepherd couldn't do shit with the Shadows until Graves got back. He was useful and he was a good soldier. Breaking this rule would be okay, he was sure of it. 

You followed him onto the tarmac, your body close to him. The plane landed unceremoniously. People gently spoke about their win. Most mourned their losses. No one had managed to get it in their head that you had probably killed their best friend. Most everyone just ogled you in confusion. 

“We’re going back to my room,” he explained. You wanted an explanation. You wanted to yell at him. You wanted to scream. 

“Okay.” 

He led you through the twisting turns of the facility. You had never been in the Shadows main buildings before. They were high tech and likely dangerous. 

Graves opened the door to his room. It was larger than the others, for being the Commander. He didn’t have to sleep in bunks or share a room when he was on base. He had called you from this room dozens of times. The phone he used had been crushed, unable to receive anything. He missed it. It had all the pictures of the two of you. 

The door clicked shut behind you. You wanted to fight him but in the moment, you could only melt. You wrapped your arms around him and he held onto you for dear life. His touch was fiery and aggressive. He was digging his fingers into your sides, breathing in the scent of your hair. He had missed you so much. More than he had been able to let on. He never wanted to live without you again. 

“I thought you were dead,” you whispered. You hadn’t realized the tears had steadily made their way back until you felt them on your cheeks. Graves had his face buried deep into your neck. “I mourned you.” 

“I know baby,” he muttered against your skin. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” 

He was crying. When was the last time you had seen him cry? He sniffled, though he tried to make it subtle. He pulled back, turning away to rub his eyes. You grabbed his shoulders, not letting him. 

“What happened?” you asked quietly. Speaking any louder than a whisper seemed like a crime. 

“Shepherd.” 

“You weren’t in the tank?” He shook his head. You let out a sigh of relief, despite the horrors you had been through over the months you had believed he was in there. He grabbed your hand. 

“I never wanted to leave you,” he promised. His eyes were red, stuffy. He wasn’t sobbing but there were clearly tears forcing their way through his hard exterior. “I did it because I thought it would keep you safe. It would keep you out of the way.” 

“You’ve just been out there?” you asked, voice hinting of betrayal. It broke his heart. 

“Missing you every second of every day.” 

“Did you know where I was?” 

“I wasn’t allowed on missions with you confirmed to be in it. It was supposed to be Price, maybe Ghost, maybe Soap today. It wasn’t supposed to be you.”

“I was a last minute addition.” 

“And thank God for that.” His hands were staying on you, lingering. “Bringing you back was selfish,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t leave you again.” 

“When they told me you were dead,” you started, swallowing your emotions. “I couldn’t eat for a week. Simon had to come force me. I had to pack up all your clothes in the closet, give them to your mother. I had to go to your funeral, the funeral of a federal traitor. I had to see the man who killed you everyday in the hallway,” you spilled. Your voice felt fluid. “I had to..I had to tell Price I was getting better when I wasn’t. I had your drink every time I went to the bar. I haven’t had barbeque in months. I had to go on shitty first dates with people Soap set me up with. I slept in your flannel. I..all my plants died.” 

Phil’s voice was quiet. He was pleading, lips wet. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He tried to grab your hands. Ground you. You let him. You stared at him, breathing heavily, reliving every moment you had without him. “I’m sorry.” 

“I can’t…I can’t do that again.”

“Me neither. Trust me.” You both were still covered in blood and dirt. You could feel the grime between your fingers. You could see the muck on his face, his perfect face. You put your hand on his cheek. 

“Promise me.” 

“I promise. I swear to God,” he whispered. 

And you kissed him. 

And things had never felt so right. 

His lips were frenzied, desperate. He had never tasted something so good in his life. You were all he had been craving, every moment of every day. His hands were practically shaking as he touched you. Long lost was his Commander front. He was just Phil. 

You hadn’t been so desperate for him since you first had him. Your anguish pushed forward onto his skin, holding him as close as you could get him. He tasted like beer and cologne and dirt. 

Phil turned you on your heels so he could sit down on the bed. You straddled him, hands cupping his face, running through his hair. You were both too bulky for this kind of making out. You hadn’t stripped of any gear, still wearing weapons of mass destruction. You pulled away, to verbalize this, but he spoke first. 

“Baby I need you. I need you,” he breathed. He kissed you chastly. “Please don’t stop.”

He used to hold back his pleading. He thought it made him look weak in front of you, unattractive. But he couldn’t do it now, when his defenses had been long shattered. 

“We need to take all this off,” you said. You looked down into his eyes. They were so beautiful and needy that it hurt your chest. You kissed his lips again, as a promise. “We gotta take off the grenades at least.” He chuckled. He had forgotten all about that. You brushed his hair back, out of his face. “Phil,” you muttered. “Philllip Graves,” you mumbled, a borderline moan. He groaned in need. 

“Quickly. Quicker than that.” You laughed. It was the first time you had heard your laugh in months. It was genuine and filled with life. It felt good. You slid off him and started to strip. 

He studied you with such intense eyes it felt like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. 

-

You almost couldn’t fall asleep. You traced his features with your gaze, even with his closed eyes. The scar on his cheek. You traced it lightly with your finger. His hair was still wet from the shower. You had both slipped and slid around the bathroom, limbs remaining intertwined. He had made it a point to always be starring or always be touching. You were his. You would never be anyone else's. 

He had an arm lazily around your side. You had so much to worry about, so much to do. Were you technically behind enemy lines? What would happen when you woke up in the morning?

Phillip groaned and pulled you closer, smushing you against his chest. 

“Woah there cowboy,” you whispered. He smiled, eyes still closed. 

“You remember when you used to take my hat?” he asked fondly. You did. The cowboy hat rule. If you wear his hat, you ride the cowboy. You giggled, nodding against the pillow.

“I do.”

“We should do that again.”

“We can do whatever you want,” you told him. “Whatever you want.” He nodded. 

“Go to sleep. I’ll figure it out in the mornin.” He put his chin on your head. “I got you.” You believed him. 

You hadn’t had such a good sleep since he died, exhaustion over taking your body and forcing you into darkness.