#there’ll be peace when we’re done my ass

[thatsveryood]

I’m not gonna say I was “normal” about it, but I was More Normal about Destiel these last few weeks while wrapped up in all the 911 return and the news meme has dragged me kicking and screaming back into Pain™️

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (Part 18)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, angst

-------

Daphne sat in a plush chair in front of a large solid wood desk. She was silent as she watched across to Mrs Grimes who was pouring over all of the evidence with silent rage. She'd gone through the file and was now on her fancy ass computer looking at the billion pictures she'd found. One of the large tinted windows in the room was cracked open, birds chirping from outside as a nice breeze came in. The weather was quite warm that day, the sun shining brightly as spring was well under way. Daphne had on a strappy black maxi dress with thigh high slits, her boots on and her deep purple hair was in two French braids. The most effort she'd put into her hair in a while. The nice weather had encouraged her to make an effort. 

She picked at her black chipped nails as she patiently waited for the older woman to look through all of the evidence. The silence was deafening and Daphne kept finding her thoughts drifting off. It had been two days since she'd last seen any of her new friends and Karen's words kept itching at her brain before she opted to ignore them. She’d had a few texts from Foggy checking in with her and thankfully she hadn't seen or heard from Matt at all. It was peaceful.

"That rat bastard! He's making a mockery of me, he's not even hiding it!" Mrs Grimes finally snapped. Daphne had sensed it was coming. She chose not to respond, not knowing what to say. Usually she would say a few mildly comforting words to her clients but Mrs Grimes wasn't heartbroken, she was just pissed at the blatant disrespect. Daphne couldn't blame her. Mrs Grimes stood abruptly, stalking over to the cabinet and pouring some drinks. She didn't ask Daphne, but as the glass full of alcohol that was no doubt the same price as a month of rent was placed in front of her, she didn't argue as she took a large pull from it. It was smoother than what she was used to but she wasn’t surprised since this wasn't the bottom shelf shit she was used to.

Mrs Grimes sat back down gracefully despite her building anger. She took a sip of her drink and looked like she was thinking things over. Daphne just waited patiently as she enjoyed her moment with the fancy scotch.

"I want revenge," the older woman said after a moment. Her voice was calm like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"Oh?" Daphne quirked her brows, curious where this was going. 

"He's making a fool of me and blatantly so. I want a divorce but there’s also another way to hurt him," Mrs Grimes mused softly. Daphne settled deeper into the chair, her curiosity burning.

"My husband has always kept the business from me, said I didn't need to be involved. But over the many years with him I've learned some things and he has no idea," she paused to take another sip of her drink. 

"My husband is a man in power. His job allows him access to a lot of private client information that in the wrong hands would be… catastrophic. But he's also a greedy leech, and I found out a few years ago that the Italian mob had been paying him. He's been selling clients information to them. Some of them would go bankrupt and others...well they just vanished, never to be seen of again. I think we're smart enough women to figure out where they went," she muttered tensely. The bottom of the Hudson no doubt. 

"Why are you telling me this?" Daphne asked bluntly. Mrs Grimes chuckled at her, seemingly enjoying the no nonsense approach Daphne often had.

"He's a criminal, assisting worse criminals to boot. I could take him down, get him locked away. His name would be tarnished and he'd have nothing left. After I divorced him obviously," she said carefully.

"Do you have proof?" Daphne enquired. Honestly, this was pretty big. The kind of thing Brett would like to hear. Mr Grimes would know all kinds of information they could use to try and get the Italians.

Mrs Grimes heaved a sigh and crossed a leg over the other.

"Not here. We have another house, he's stayed there more and more over the years and now I rarely see him. That's where he'd keep it all, in his study," she explained. Daphne pursed her lips. Another house? These fucking people.

"Can't you go and get it?" She asked pointedly. They couldn't do anything without that information and sending the cops to go and search would be useless. They'd need a warrant and she knew that would be difficult when it came to a powerful and wealthy man like Mr Grimes, who could easily pay people to sweep it all away. 

"Can I be frank with you, Ms Weaver?" She asked seriously. Daphne nodded, as if they'd been anything but during this unexpected conversation. 

"He's already taken the other house over. He has security and if I turned up they'd send me away. They have no respect. That's how I know where all his shady business goes down because I'm forbidden to go in there. I think he knows I know something. And I worry if I tried to force my way in, it wouldn't end well for me. All he'd need to do is say the word to the criminals he associates with and I'll be gone," she muttered bitterly. It did sound promising though that there was something in the other house worth hiding from his wife.

"How do we get it then? You're forbidden and it's heavily guarded, there'll be no chance," Daphne sighed. 

"That's where you come in," the older woman grinned. Daphne resisted the urge to roll her eyes and groan. Of course it was.

"My husband is throwing a ball next week, I'm not invited of course, but it's given us a way to get you in. It's mostly upper-class, no doubt some of the Italians, god knows who else. I can pull some strings, get you on the guest list. You can just say you're from a well-off family, no one will really care. But once you're in, you can try to get to his study and get what we need," she explained. Daphne was mildly impressed. It was a sneaky plan. But she also didn't like her part in it.

She stayed silent for a moment as she ran through the options. It was the only plan really, they didn't have another. She gave no shits about Mrs Grimes petty revenge on her husband but she did care about the Italians and this was another way in. That was the only reason why she was considering something like this when it could very seriously go ass upwards. Mrs Grimes watched her carefully as she mulled it over in her head.

"I know it's dangerous, which is precisely why I'm not turning up there. I will pay you handsomely for doing this and I know you can see it through," she pressed on. She scribbled something down on a piece of paper before sliding it to her. Daphne's eyes bugged out of her head for a moment as she saw how much the woman was going to pay her. Maybe it wasn't much since this was her life on the line if things went wrong but $8000 was a huge amount of money. She didn't really need it. She wasn't one for material things and she was fine how she was. She had a steady income that paid her well. She thought back to something Karen had said in passing the night she came over and it was similar to something Foggy had complained about numerous times to her. 

Daphne blew out a sigh, downing the rest of her drink.

"I have a counter offer," she proposed, a stern look on her face. Mrs Grimes nodded to hear it.

"I'm risking my ass by going in there. I have history with the Italians and one slip up, I'm bleeding among sharks. If I do this for you, then when you get the divorce, you hire Nelson and Murdock for it. You pay them the same amount you were going to pay me. And if you like their services, which I'm sure you will, you'll recommend them to your friends. But just so you know, they won't represent genuinely bad people, so be careful who you send there," she gave the older woman an expectant look unsure of what she should say. 

"I know you would have gone to some fancy ass lawyer to get it done but these guys are good and they care about their job. So much so that most of the time they take on cases for barely any money or none at all. They need that money and you need the evidence. That's my only offer," she added with a stern face. She could have taken it for herself, but why? She didn't care about it. But Foggy, Karen and even reluctantly Matt did care. She hated how despondent Foggy would get when he worried about the firm. How they were in the negatives. How he wasn't sure how much longer they'd be able to stay open. They couldn't even afford to pay Karen which is what led her to the Bulletin in the first place. And while she didn't like Matt and she'd never seen him or Foggy in action, she'd heard nothing but great things and praise about them at the station. Not everyone had money for a decent attorney, but that didn't matter to them. Everyone deserved that help. She had a chance to help with that and she was running with it. 

"Deal," Mrs Grimes settled with a nod. Daphne was a little shocked by how easy it was but then again she guessed she really wanted to nail her husband to the wall. She leaned over shaking hands with her before she grabbed her backpack and got ready to leave.

"Here. This is what I owe you from the investigation you already did. And I’ll pay for you to get a dress for the ball so you don’t stand out too much," she handed her $1000 in cash and Daphne stuffed it into her bag, watching as the woman scribbled something down on a small piece of paper. 

"I'd recommend these stores. Tell them I sent you in and it’ll be taken care of. It's a very grand affair, tell them it's a ball and they'll pick some things for you to try. I'll also put you down with a plus one on the guestlist. It might be a little less… conspicuous if you took someone with you," she murmured, gesturing to Daphne's purple hair. She squinted in slight offense but took the piece of paper anyway and put it in her hoodie pocket. 

Once again the driver had been instructed to take her home. She opted for him to drop her off down the street. Now she knew the Italians were involved in this somehow, she didn't want to chance people knowing where she lived. She didn't know if Mr Grimes was having his wife monitored or not. When she did finally arrive home, she was hot and tired. The sun was glaring through her large window by the fire escape and she opened it letting in some air since she didn't have AC. She kicked off her boots and lay on her back on the couch. She tried to run through how the night at the ball would go but there were far too many variables. She just had to hope for the best. It should be busy and filled with self important people who wouldn't think about looking into who she was too closely. Once they were all distracted, she could slip away and leave, hopefully without incident. 

She thought back to Mrs Grimes' advice on bringing someone and she grumbled. It would make her look less noticeable and if she was alone there was every chance guys may approach her to talk. She wanted to slip under the radar as much as possible. Having a date would fix that but she had no one. She wouldn't ask Foggy. Not only because he was in a relationship and it was weird even as friends, but because of how dangerous it was. She refused to ask Brett. She decided not to tell him about the intel she had until she got the proof. He wouldn't approve of her doing this and if the cops got involved prematurely then the evidence would get destroyed. Mrs Grimes would also most likely disappear and she refused to have the death of another client weigh on her conscience. 

The only person that kept coming to mind was Matt and she hated it. He would be perfect. The unassuming blind man, no one would suspect them. He also had his super senses that would prove to be incredibly useful and if things got hairy she knew he'd have her back. It would risk him exposing himself if it really came to it and he had to fight but that was the worst case scenario. She really just didn't want to speak to him though. The last time they spoke had really pissed her off and she'd been enjoying the peace of him not being around lately. Did she really want to disrupt that? As useful as he would be by her side, she didn't want to do that to herself. They'd have to blend in as a couple, dancing and being nice to each other. She didn't need the headache. 

She came to the conclusion she was better off going on her own and saving herself future annoyance when it came to the vigilante. She lay on her sofa for a little while just too tired to move. She wasn't sleeping much at all and she'd found herself going to Fogwell's gym everyday the last two days to take her frustration out on the punching bag. She always made sure to go at a time when Matt didn't tend to go so she didn't run into him. She wondered how long it would be before she burnt herself out completely.

A rhythmic knock sounded at her door that let her know it was Foggy. He usually did a weird little knock when he came to see her.

"Come in," she called from where she lay. The door opened and she glanced at the door as Foggy walked in.

"What is this? You're just too lazy to open the door and greet me now? That hurts," he pouted. She laughed but made no move to get up as he waltzed over and flopped into the armchair. 

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr Nelson?" She yawned softly into her hand.

"A weird thing just happened. We got a phone call from a Mrs Grimes, a real wealthy woman. She asks us to help her with her divorce. Her husband's a cheat and into some illegal things apparently. She says someone recommended us to her. She paid us $4000 dollars up front with another when it's all over with. $4000! Can you believe that?!" Foggy asked incredulously. 

"That's a lot of money," she murmured in agreement.

"Yeah… funny thing though, Karen seemed to recognise her name. Mrs Grimes is the name of your client and her cheaty illegal husband is the guy you've been spying on…" he trailed off, waiting for her answer.

"Small world, huh?" She smiled at him.

"Seriously? You think I don't know you had something to do with this giant heap of good luck?" He scoffed. She groaned as she sat up, rubbing her eyes a little before settling into a sitting position.

"Fine, you got me. She wants some extras for her case and offered me a lot of money. Money I don't need but I know you guys do. So I made a deal with her that you'd be her lawyers and she'd pay what she would have given me," she explained. Foggy still looked stunned and he shook his head.

"What does she need you to do that costs that much?" He asked bewildered. She sighed, wiping a hand down her face wearily.

"Oh god, is it that bad?" He asked hesitantly.

"Kinda. But since I just practically gave $8000 to keep your firm in practice, I expect no lectures from you when you hear it," she asserted with a raised brow. He nodded reluctantly, not able to argue with her. 

"The illegal stuff she said about her husband? He's in bed with the Italians. He sells them client information. She said that some of them ended up bankrupt and some just went 'missing'," she did air quotes and Foggy's jaw gaped a little.

"Holy shit," he breathed.

"She wants to get back at him for cheating. She said he humiliated her with how blatant he was about it. She wants to expose him, get him locked up but she needs proof and she wants me to get it. It's a whole complicated thing… but yeah. I'll be going to a ball Mr Grimes is throwing next week undercover and I need to sneak into his office at some point and look for proof. Some of the Italians might be there and who knows who else so I'll be dressed up and acting as a rich bitch," she blew out a breath after her attempt at explaining. 

Foggy blinked at her for a moment.

"I really want to tell you that this is a bad idea and you shouldn't go. But I agreed no lectures and you did just basically help us keep our doors open at the firm. But I will say that I'm worried. Very worried," he muttered tensely. 

"I'm honestly nervous too. But if it goes well then I'll be fine. I'll be extra careful and if it seems too hairy then I'll get out of there. I promise," she reassured. She meant it too. Mrs Grimes refused to go herself because of the risk so she'd get it if she had to duck out and try something else. 

"Okay… I guess I'll just have to accept that," he said reluctantly. She was happy he wasn't fighting her on this because it was already stressing her out.

"And you can't tell Matt," she pointed at him. He frowned deeply and sighed.

"What do you mean I can't tell Matt? He was there when Karen made the connection, you don't think he's gonna be curious about the amount of money?" He asked incredulously.

"Just tell him it was what she was paying me for the normal investigation. She's got more money than sense. He'll have to believe that. I really don't need him butting in with this, not when Mrs Grimes already thinks I should take someone with me to the ball," she huffed.

"Okay now I'm just confused. Wouldn't Matt be the perfect person to take with you?" He asked with furrowed brows.

"If he wasn't a dick then yeah," she glowered. Foggy nodded, leaning forward with his arms on his knees as he looked at her.

"I don't know what went down after I left the other day, but this feels way worse than normal and I don't like it,"he mumbled forlornly. She rubbed her temples and raked her teeth over her lower lip as she stayed silent. 

"Was it what he said? About Mr Lee?" He questioned gently. She'd almost forgotten he'd been there for that remark. Her lips stayed firmly sealed as she glared at the coffee table, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Talk to me, Daph. You and Matt are both my friends and it's hard being in the middle like this. He's done nothing but mope around doing his Catholic guilt thing since you last saw him and you seem miserable. I care about you. I'm not gonna sit here and force you to like him or even spend time with him, but I want you to talk to me," he implored. She took a deep breath, mulling over if she should tell him. But he’d wore her down and she found her mouth opening anway.

"His words really cut me deep. They hurt me and I didn't expect that. We've said a lot of shit to each other since we met but that was just… it was cruel. And I get it, he was scared and he lashed out. He said sorry and I actually believe him. But I'm mad at myself. I'm mad because I let him in somehow without realising it. I gave him the power to hurt me with his words. I'm mad because somewhere along the way something changed and I actually care about what he thinks of me," she whispered without looking at him. She almost felt ashamed to get it all out, lay it all on the table. But Foggy wasn't Matt. Being vulnerable around him wouldn't get her hurt.

Foggy scratched his chin, looking at her sadly. 

"I wanna say something and I don't want you to interrupt... I think that maybe you need to come to terms with the fact that feelings are involved in this thing with Matt," he started. She opened her mouth to protest but he shot her a look, promptly snapping her mouth closed. 

"You both can deny it until you're blue in the face, but it's there. It's always been intense with you two. Since the moment you met, up 'til now. No matter what emotion it is, it's strong. And there's a fine line between love and hate," he added.

"I don't love Matt!" She protested, unable to keep quiet at that ridiculous notion.

"Maybe not love. Not yet. But something. You both get under each other's skin so easy because you both care about what the other says. You get hurt when he's genuinely been a dick and he's hurt because he knows he's hurt you. I get it's weird and complicated with you both. And now there's intense sex thrown into the mix and its all blurry. But at some point you two stopped being mere annoyances to each other and denying it is just making things worse," he frowned. She clenched her jaw, really not wanting to be part of this conversation. 

"Matt's been through so much in his life. Like a rigorous amount of bullshit and I sometimes don't know how he keeps going. And he's lost a lot of people one way or another. He shields himself because he's scared. He doesn't wanna get hurt again. But you… I think you got to him. I think you chipped at the armor he wears and that terrifies him. So his only way of dealing with it is being an asshole to push you away. And something tells me you're exactly the same way," he murmured. 

"You don't know me," she snapped without meaning to. He looked hurt and nodded.

"Fine," he stood up and walked to the door. She scrunched her face up feeling like the worst person ever. Foggy was the last person she ever wanted to hurt and her chest felt tight.

"You know what? No, it's not fine. You're doing it right now and I'm not biting!" He frowned, whirling  back around and pointing a finger at her. She lowered her head like a scolded child but took it because she deserved it.

"I'm not saying you guys are in love or that anything will come out of it. But I know my best friend more than anyone and I know when someone's affecting him. And I've seen it with you two from the start, even if you both refuse to admit it. But what I'm saying is that maybe it's time you both just stop. Stop with the angst and the bullshit because you're only hurting yourselves. Try to be friends or something. Anything’s better than this endless loop you're both on," he groused and she stood up to face him.

"I'm not like you, Foggy. I can't just… I don't know how to connect with someone. The only way we became friends was because it's you. You just have this way about you and it's so easy to be around you. And I've tried with Matt, I've shared things with him, personal things and he threw them back in my face. So yeah, maybe I do shut down and I'm not easy to be around for him but it's because he makes it impossible. There is no way out of this endless loop. You told me that me and Matt are a lot alike and honestly I think you're right. Which is why it would never work being friends or anything else with him. I know he can be a great guy, I've seen it. But he's not that guy with me," she frowned. 

Foggy hung his head and nodded.

"I just think… if you guys moved past this crap, you could make each other really happy. But I'll drop it," he relented. She stayed silent as her emotions were all over the place. She didn't know what to think any more. 

"We're all going to Josie's tomorrow night to celebrate the money thing. Karen really wanted you to come as a thank you… but no pressure," he murmured quietly.

He gave her a hug before he saw himself out and she just stood there for a moment. She couldn't help but think back to what Karen said and how similar it was. She had no idea why people seemed to think there was something there with them both when they couldn't even manage to be friends. They were both hard headed and stubborn and lashed out when someone got too close. That wouldn't make anyone happy. But she couldn't deny the fact that Foggy had some points that rang true. Because it had turned into something somewhere along the way. If it hadn't then she wouldn't have been hurt by his words and she would have brushed them off like so many times before. Maybe feelings were involved but she had no idea which ones. She wasn't used to having them.

[openheart12]

I Think He Knows

Chapter 5: King Of My Heart

A/N: This chapter was so much fun to write, we hope you enjoy it!

Summary: A move to Providence proves to bring new people together but will their friendship be able to survive through the unexpected problems they are faced with? When her crush turns into something more, what does that mean for the relationships closest to her. When he has to leave for college, will he finally relent or will he lose her forever? What consequences will she be faced with for falling for her brother’s best friend? Does he know?

Warnings: language, violence, and cheating 

Disclaimer: PB owns characters

Catch up here

Her alarm went off at 4 AM sharp, beckoning her to wake up. When she turned it off, she rubbed her eyes, cursing whoever’s smart idea it was to make a flight to Miami at 7 AM the day of the actual conference. She slowly rose up to a sitting position letting the realization that today was the day she was going to be in Miami with Ethan for the weekend hit her. 

She hopped in the shower, letting her tiredness wash away, and when she exited she heard a light knock on her bedroom door. Grabbing her robe and wrapping it tightly around her as she walked to the door, she opened it to see Ethan standing there with a bag near his feet.

He whipped his head up when she opened the door, seeing her in her white robe, and water dripping from her hair. He took a second to admire her as she self consciously wrapped her arms around herself before clearing his throat. “I know it’s only five but we should leave soon so we can get through security.”

She gave him a nod and moved to close the door. “I’ll be out in twenty minutes,” she said in a small whisper, not wanting to show her nerves through her voice.

“Alright, well I can load your bag into the car while you get ready,” he offered.

She let a small smile play across her face, “I still have a few things I need to pack, so I’ll take it out once I’m done.”

“Oh, okay.” He watched her start to close the door so he took it as a sign to leave.

Neither one of them knew why things had been so awkward these past few weeks. Well, that’s a lie. They both knew the tension between them as well as these mixed feelings and signals were a big factor, but why couldn’t they just shove it down and act normal?

That’s something Casey has been doing since she’d met Ethan. She’s used to keeping her feelings for him bottled up, she shouldn’t be feeling the awkward tension whenever she’s with him. Maybe it was because he was so open with her when she first came to Boston, or the way he comforted her, or maybe it was their almost kiss. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew there was something deeper with Ethan going on even though every bone in her body said it wasn’t a good idea with his current relationship going on.

She shook her arms and head, wanting to stop thinking about it all together as she threw on some sweats and packed the rest of her bag.

~~~~~~~~

The car ride to the airport was one of the quietest drives her and Ethan had ever experienced together. Both of them had been thankful that the drive wasn’t too long because if either of them had been in there longer, the tension that was so thick you would need a knife to cut through it would’ve suffocated them.

When they had boarded the plane, Casey was surprised when Ethan stopped at first class seats. She turned to him and raised a brow as he beckoned her to sit.

When she took her seat, he took the one across from her, staring out of the window instead of looking at her. There it was again, the tense silence that neither one of them had wanted in the first place. Casey bit her lip, thinking of ways to start the conversation before clearing her throat to get his attention.

When he turned his head to her, she let out a sigh. “Um, so who’s exactly paying for these seats? Because if I’m correct, then I know Edenbrook couldn’t have afforded these.”

“Well you’re right with that. Big Pharma is the reason we’re sitting here.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing damn well there were hidden intentions behind the seats. “And what do they want in return?”

Ethan chuckled as they both began to feel that weight of tension between them be lifted. “Should’ve known you’d be able to see right through them.” He watched a light blush tint her cheeks. “They expect us to promote their drugs to patients in return for these ‘luxurious’ seats.”

“You know, it’s times like these that I really love our capitalist society.”

He raised a brow, but before she could explain herself a flight attendant walked up to them.

“Hello, can I get you two anything?”

Casey pursed her lips before lifting her eyebrows and turning to the attendant. “I’ll have the most expensive booze you got!”

“Rookie, it’s not even eight a.m yet.”

She turned her head over to Ethan and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

Ethan huffed out a laugh and gave a nod before turning to the flight attendant himself. “I’ll just have a scotch, neat.” When the woman left to get their drinks, he looked back over to Casey giving him a smug look. “What’s that look for?” he asked, leaning back into his seat.

“Oh I don’t know,” she shrugged her shoulders. “I just think you’re predictable and I totally knew you were going to go for a scotch. I also knew it was going to be neat.”

“Well predictability happens to stem from knowing a lot about a person. You know scotch is my go-to, and you also know that-”

“The ice changes the flavor,” she said, cutting him off with a dainty smirk on her lips.

Ethan took a second to observe her. He knew she knew a lot about him because they grew up near each other, but it just didn’t really hit him how much she really knew him until now. He was soon brought out of his daze when the flight attendant came back with their drinks.

Once she left again, Casey lifted her glass to his. “To Miami, and whatever it may bring.”

“Hopefully no trouble,” he said, clinking their glasses.

“With us there? You bet your ass there’ll be trouble.”

He rolled his eyes as she let out a giggle. The conversation between them had been flowing easier than either had originally anticipated, making them feel just an ounce of what normalcy may feel like.

~~~~~~~~

They arrived in Miami by ten o’clock, both breathing in the crisp ocean air with a happy sigh. The sound of waves crashing in the distance sounded like music to her ears. “This is what heaven feels like.” She looked over at Ethan just as the sea breeze swept through his hair as he closed his eyes, looking peaceful.

“A moment of tranquility before our descent in hell,” he joked.

“It can’t be that bad, right?” She questioned which elicited a snort from him.

“Just you wait,” he teased as he patted her head.

“Ethan,” she groaned as she shoved him playfully. They made their way inside and they had just passed through the glass doors when a feminine voice called his name.

“Ramsey! Ethan Ramsey! I was so excited when Naveen told us you would be coming in his place this year! It’s lovely to meet you! Come, Horton and Mendoza want to say hi!” He suppressed the urge to groan as he shot her a pleading look and she snickered.

“Rookie, get us checked in. Two rooms under Ramsey,” he made sure to enunciate ‘Rookie,’ and she pinched his arm in return before going up to the receptionists’ desk.

“Welcome to the Celestial Miami! Checking in?” The concierge greeted her with a bright smile. 

“Yup! Reservation’s under Ramsey. Two rooms.” She saw the look that crossed his face as he checked the computer and inwardly sighed. Please, please don’t let what I think is about to happen, happen, she thought to herself. 

“Ramsey… Er, my apologies. There was an error with your reservation, and we only booked one room.” Dammit, she cursed under her breath, low enough that he wouldn’t hear her.

“One’s fine,” she plastered on a fake smile.

“Wonderful. Here are your keycards, you have a beautiful ocean-side suite. Very romantic.” He gave her a knowing look and she had suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, instead giving him a small smile. She pocketed the hotel keycards and stepped outside to wait for Ethan when she saw Zaid with his arm around… Ines. 

“Casey!” Ines exclaimed as she gave her a hug, while Zaid just gave her a curt nod. 

“Are you guys here for the conference too? And you’re together? As in dating each other?” She asked.

“Yes, and it’s the one break I get from the hospital all year. Please, can we just pretend we don’t know each other?” He begged her, causing the two women to share a laugh.

“And yes, we are dating. This month will be seven months with my Zaidy Bear!” She smiled as she nuzzled in his side and even Zaid smiled as his arm wrapped around her waist. She couldn’t help but smile at how happy they seemed to be with each other. She wanted that with him. Ethan walked out a moment later and greeted the two residents with a questioning look.

“What are you two doing here?” He asked as he was under the impression that him and Casey were the only two coming from Edenbrook.

“Naveen had asked us a couple weeks before, which I was surprised when he told us you were coming along yesterday too,” Ines spoke casually. 

“Why would he inv-” suddenly realization dawned on him. He shook his head knowing exactly why Naveen had invited the two of them personally. He called him to his office one day and asked about his relationship with Casey, and now it made sense because he had told him the truth. From their growing up together to their first kiss to what had almost happened between them in the supply closet and who had caught them. Naveen was the first person he had ever entrusted to tell his most kept secret to and now it was biting him in the ass. 

Casey had noticed the realization in his eyes and had a feeling as to why Naveen had invited them to Miami. She tried to meet his gaze, but he kept his gaze trained on anything except for her. A few minutes later they said their goodbyes to Ines and Zaid and made their way to what he thought was going to be separate rooms. They got to the front of the door and he gave her a questioning look when she gestured for him to go in and she followed suit. 

“Is this my room? Or yours?” He turned around to face her and felt his heart start to race when he noticed her expression because he could not share a room with her. He could barely live in the same apartment as her let alone two days in the same room. 

“Well, you see, there was a problem with our reservation and they only booked us for one room, and it’s a couples’ suite.” She watched as he rubbed his brow and sighed.

“Oh dear Lord,” he muttered under his breath just loud enough for her to hear. 

They spent the next few minutes putting their luggage away before heading to the convention center that was flooded with people awashed with colorful booths and banners. She gawked in amazement as the various doctors and researchers revealed their cutting-edge research. Ethan looked over at her with a small smile as he noticed her excitement. 

“I can’t believe I get to see all of this firsthand!” She exclaimed and before he could answer her, he walked over to them.

“Ethan Ramsey, do my eyes deceive me?” The man clapped him on his back. 

“Declan,” he spoke through gritted teeth, he hadn’t seen him since his first day as an intern before he transferred to Seattle Grace Hospital. He felt anger coursing through his veins when he saw he had turned his attention towards Casey and was looking at her suggestively.

“Is this the infamous Harper, because she is absolutely stunning,” he shot her a wink which in return made her roll her eyes.

“No.” 

“So she’s your side piece?” He asked smuggly. “Good for you! I didn’t know you had it in you, buddy.” He patted his back and it took everything in Ethan for him not to punch him right then and there.

He maneuvered Casey away from him but Declan grasped her arm and pulled her back to him roughly. “Don’t touch her, you son of a bitch,” his fist connected with his jaw and Declan stumbled backwards.

“What the hell was that for?” His hand went to his jaw, wincing from the pain. 

“If you touch her again, you will live to regret it,” he seethed before leading her out and back to their room. 

They spent the next couple of hours unpacking and sleeping while Ethan kept ice on his injured hand. The silence was deafening at this point, both unsure of what to say. 

“Shit,” he muttered when he looked at the clock and saw that they only had forty five minutes until they had to leave. “We have to leave soon, Case,” he called before going to take a quick shower.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me there was a reception,” she rummaged through her travel bag for anything that would be acceptable to wear. Ethan had left the door open a crack so they would be able to talk. 

“It was the furthest possible thing from my mind at the time.”

“But it’s a casino theme! I have to look nice!” She glanced over at the bathroom mirror, seeing him step out of the shower with a towel around his hips and before she could look away, he glanced up, catching her staring. She felt her cheeks turn a deep shade of crimson and turned her attention back to finding something to wear.

“Just throw on whatever you brought with you,” he told her as he donned his suit. She then remembered the navy blue dress she had brought with her and ran her fingers over the fabric, a soft smile playing on her lips. She slipped the dress on, trying to zip the back up until she felt his fingers ghost her skin causing goosebumps to erupt across her skin.

“May I?” His breath was on her neck and all she could do was nod, not trusting her voice to speak. He zipped her up, his fingers lingering on her back a moment too long, but she didn’t mind. She moved the cape back so it flowed behind her, stealing one more glance in the mirror before making her way to the door, but he gently grasped her arm, holding her back.

“You look beautiful.” She couldn’t help the blush that crept onto her face.

“Thank you,” she smiled sheepishly. He held his arm out to her with a lopsided grin, she shook her head with a laugh before linking her arm through his as they made their way down to the reception. 

It was a relatively cool night in Miami with the breeze blowing softly. They walked out to the pool area where it was illuminated by lights, on one side was the open bar and the other had a buffet table. There was a game of poker going on at one of the many tables set up around the deck, with Declan sitting in the middle. He met her eyes and smirked, a noticeable bruise on his jaw.

“If I’m going to make it through tonight, I’m going to need a drink. Do you want anything?”

“Whatever you get is fine with me.” She took a seat at one of the empty tables to wait for Ethan. Her phone dinged with a text from Nate. 

How are things going? Have you jumped each other’s bones yet? Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. 

She was so engrossed in her response that she didn’t notice that she was no longer alone. She looked up to see no one other than Declan peering down at her phone. “What the hell?” She quickly turned off her phone. 

“Is he talking about Ethan? Don’t tell me that’s Nathan Grey. That would make you Casey Grey, the woman I have heard so much about from those two.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders at the same time as Ethan was walking back to her, two drinks in hand.

“What are you doing?” Ethan spat.

“Having a conversation with my good friend, Casey,” he tightened his grip around her shoulders, but she pushed him away and stood up. She grabbed Ethan’s hand and pulled him after her but they didn’t get far before Declan walked up behind them and pushed Ethan’s shoulder to the point where he was now facing him. “You know I find it funny how possessive you are over her when your girlfriend is back in Boston.”

“Okay listen here you son of a bitch, I hit you earlier and I’ll gladly do it again,” Ethan said, advancing towards Declan. 

“Ha! I’d like to see you try. It seems like you’d do anything for that beauty over there.”

Ethan went to raise his fist to give Declan a blow, but before he was able to swing, Declan’s knuckle had connected against Ethan’s lower jaw. He stumbled backwards before regaining his balance, Declan went to hit him again, but Ethan blocked it, striking his cheek in retaliation. 

It took three other doctors to pull them apart and even then, Ethan tried to lunge at him again, but Casey stepped in front of him, putting her hands on his chest. When he met her eyes, reality came crashing back down and he stilled his movements and Casey had led him back to their room.

“You wanna tell me what happened between the two of you? You or Nate have never mentioned his name before.” She got him a bag of ice and set it down beside him.

“He’s a prick,” she waited for him to continue but his gaze was glued to the floor. She wracked her brain for any reason she could think of that Ethan would be keeping something from her. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she saw him get up and head out to the balcony.

While out on the balcony, the breeze was softly rustling through their hair. They had been up there for twenty minutes and Ethan had been insisting he could take care of himself. She honestly didn’t want to argue with him so she sat back and watched as he winced and put the ice she had prepared for him not even remotely close to where Declan had actually struck. 

Watching him had been the most frustrating thing so she stood up and got closer to him, rolling her eyes in the process and she took the makeshift ice pack from his hand.

“What are you doing?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow as she placed the pack lower on his jaw.

“You suck at being your own doctor so I’m taking over.” 

She pulled one of the chairs closer to him and sat down. There was a certain quietness between them that had lingered, but it wasn’t that weird tense silence. This was a moment between two lifelong friends, a moment of revelation, no, a moment of realization. 

With Ethan looking into her eyes she could feel her pulse start beating rapidly. The intense feeling had made her grip on the ice pack go weak and she let it drop to the ground. She was about to move her hand to get it, but right before she did Ethan put a light hold onto her wrist, keeping her hand near his face.

The passion and wanting in both of their eyes was enough for them to become weak in the knees, and as if Ethan was rushing up from a lake for oxygen, he surged forward, capturing her lips with his. 

The initial shock of their lips together hadn’t lasted long, and she clung her arms around his neck, bringing their bodies closer as he stood them up. Ethan had returned the same grip around her waist, both holding onto each other like it was their first and last kiss. 

The kiss had quickly escalated as Ethan had her against the glass sliding door, kissing down her neck as she ran her fingers through his hair. When he moved his lips back onto hers, she slid her hands down his chest, starting to play with the buttons of his tux. He felt the icy touch of her hand slip beneath his undershirt and sucked in a breath as he heard four soft words escape her mouth.

“I’ve been wanting this.”

“Me too,” she heard his husky voice whisper.

She had continued to explore his chest before bringing her hand up to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss even further. She wanted more, no, she needed more. Without thinking, she hooked one of her legs around his hips, being close enough to feel just how much he wanted her.

The feeling of Casey almost wrapped around him made him suddenly aware of what they were actually doing, and who they actually were. 

Without any warning he broke the kiss, backing away so that they were at arm’s length. Casey had abruptly opened him a look mixed with confusion and hurt. She watched him let out a breath, rubbing his hand down his face before giving a guilty expression.

“Case, We shouldn’t have… we… I’m with Harper.”

She quickly schooled her features into a look of understanding. “Yeah…”

“We were just...tipsy from the reception and high on adrenaline and I was out of line.”

“You’re right. It was the alcohol and adrenaline,” she lied, trying to keep her feelings at bay. 

He shot another guilty look in her direction but she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Case, are we gonna be fine, or should we talk about this?”

She looked up at him and gave a half hearted smile. “We’re fine E, or we can talk about it later if you want but I’m pretty tired, so I think I’ll go to bed.”

He scratched the back of his neck and gave a nod. “Okay, well I’ll take the couch. Good night.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, walking into the suite and heading straight towards the bathroom, wanting to take a shower and wash away the day.

~~~~~~~~

The weekend had passed by quickly, their last day in Miami was full of attending lectures until they had a two hour break for everyone to relax and have time to eat. Ethan and Casey had decided to have their lunch on the beach. They had brought a picnic blanket with them and laid it across the sand as she took out the sandwiches they had packed while he got their drinks.

“I better not get a bad tan-line.” He chuckled as he took out a bottle of sunscreen and sprayed it on his arms and his face. He went to hand her the bottle but she shook her head.

 “I’ll be fine.”

“Suit yourself,” he put the bottle back in the big and started to eat his food, he noticed that her gaze was trained on the water and she hadn’t touched her food. “Are you okay?” He asked softly. They still hadn’t talked about what happened the night before, about the line they had almost crossed. 

“Yeah,” she gave him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes, but he didn’t want to push it. They spent the next two hours almost in complete silence. When they had to leave, they put everything up. She started to walk back to the hotel when he gently grabbed her arm.

“Are… are we going to be okay?” He questioned.

“Yeah,” she was averting her gaze from him, scared that if she looked into his eyes, that she  would lose control and she was barely holding it together. 

“Can you look at me and say that?”

“We… we have to go.” She broke free from his grasp and he sighed, running his hand through his hair before following her. 

The rest of the day consisted of attending the rest of the lectures and packing and finally heading to the airport to board their flight. Thick tension hanging over the pair the whole time. After going through security and taking their seats on the plane, the quietness enveloped them again. They settled in for the long flight, she put in her AirPods before he even had a chance to talk to her. 

They arrived at Boston Logan International Airport around eleven o’clock at night, grabbing their luggage before hailing a cab to take them home. Again, the silence engulfed them, both not knowing what to say. When they got home, they said their goodnight’s and headed to their separate rooms. 

Early the next morning, they were getting ready to head to the hospital when Nate confronted both of them. He had noticed a shift in their relationship and wanted to know what had happened in Miami.

“Are you going to tell me what's wrong with you two?” 

“Nothing,” she replied dryly, breezing past him out the door. He gave Ethan a look and he just shook his head before following her out the door. For the first time in all the years they had known each other, there was an awkward silence on the way to the hospital. 

“Dr. Banerji has an announcement today,” Nate tried to lessen the growing tension, but he was ignored by both of them. He looked over to Ethan who was driving and noticed the bags under his eyes. He stole a quick glance at Casey in the rearview mirror and noticed the troubled look in his sister’s eyes. His mind churning at what could have possibly happened to change their dynamic so much. 

When they arrived at Edenbrook, Casey quickly got out of the car not bothering to wait for the other two. They walked in to see Naveen standing at the top of the stairs with almost all the doctors and nurses waiting for his announcement, including Casey. Ethan didn’t see Harper walk up to him as his gaze was fixed on Casey. She kissed him and he inwardly grimaced, when the kiss broke, he looked at Casey who was staring at the two of them with an unreadable expression on her face before she turned her attention back to Naveen.

“First of all, I would like to welcome Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Grey back!” Naveen had a smile that slightly faltered when he saw the looks on both of their faces. “There is going to be a gala in two weeks to help raise money and I expect everyone to attend. That’s all, thank you.” The group began to dissipate as they went back to work. All wondering what was to come in the following weeks.

Casey was getting ready to walk down to one of her patient’s rooms when Bryce quickly jogged up to her and caught her elbow. When she turned around, she saw that cocky, yet endearing grin.

“So you obviously know about the gala…” 

“Yeah, and what about it?” She crossed her arms, giving him that same grin back.

“Well I was actually wondering if you would be my date.”

Casey’s grin had turned into a soft smile, and when she went to open her mouth, her eyes briefly brushed past Bryce and connected with Ethan’s to see that he was listening to Harper. It was almost as if the whole weekend had flashed before her eyes. The weekend that gave her that taste of him, and left her wanting more. She could feel the intense feeling rushing back just from thinking about it, but the one thing that made her choices regarding Bryce so much easier, was the simple, yet heartbreaking sentence of “Case, We shouldn’t have… we… I’m with Harper.” 

Ethan was with Harper. It was that simple. She needed to accept that, and the first step was going out and trying with someone new, someone different. 

Her eyes had settled back onto Bryce and she brightened her smile. “I would love to go with you Bryce.” She could see the excitement light up in his eyes.

“Great! I’ll text you what time I’ll pick you up?”

She gave him a nod before he squeezed her elbow and went off to work. Casey was about to turn back towards the direction of her patient’s room, but she caught Ethan’s eye once again as he gave her an unreadable expression. 

Ethan Tags: @ethandaddyramsey @junggoku @edith-eggs1 @camiyumi5 @lilypills @sekizincimektup @missmiimiie @binny1985 @drethanramslay  @whatchique @cxld-play @the-ingenious-f00l @oofchoices @lovebubblechoices @loveellamae @trappedinfandoms @choices-love-affair @noboundariesplease @newcolonies @big-yikers @flyawayboo @misterbitterapplesauce @x-kyne-x @itsgoingnuts @junehiratas @drakewalker04 @caseyvalentineramsey @kaavyaethanramsey @jamespotterthefirst @messrprongs @pikapower18 @samihatuli @jooous @sanchita012 @nooruleman  @lifeof-liv @schnitzelbutterfingers @desmaranj @rookiefromedenbrook @mrsdrakewalkerblog @tefigranger @tyrilstouch @eileendannie @rookie-ramsey @ramseyandrys @agent-breakdance @mvalentine @theeccentricbibliophile @ao719 @openheartchoices @lucy-268 @humanpokemon @custaroonie @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @anotherbeingsworld @zeniamiii @squishywizardhq @nerdydinosaursweets @pixelberryownsme @courtesanofedenbrook @aylamwrites @mals-chesthair @checkurwindow @unluckygs @dulceghernandez @lion-ess24 @choicesficwriterscreations @mkamra2355

ITHK Tags: @burnsoslow @smilex1104 @rookiemarsswiftie @princessfuzzy12 @rookieoh @virtualrain202 @kiara-36 @macy-ray85

[willsimpforazula]

Sokkla Month Day 7: Intimate

A/N: This is an ATLA + Fate/Stay Night (Unlimited Blade Works) crossover and this scene is inspired from S2, E10. Intimate memories count as intimate, no?

Saber - Suki

Rin Tohsaka - Azula

Emiya Shirou - Sokka

With that out of the way, leggo

-----

Sokkla Month Day 7: Intimate

Sokka's house

The mood was solemn, as the remaining two Masters of the 5th Holy Grail War debated on their plan of action. With the revelation that Archer, who Azula summoned actually turned out to be the Heroic Spirit version of Sokka and that he possessed a Reality Marble, and the shock of seeing him blasted to bits by Gilgamesh's attack still hung heavy on their minds.

Azula, who saw her servant looking very much like a porcupine giving up his life to save them.

Suki, who had to stand and watch the younger of the two Sokka's battle it out, the older and more cynical version blasting him again and again with round upon round of blades, delivering wounds that should have killed him hundreds of times over were it not for Avalon implanted within him.

As she finished bandaging the worst of his wounds, they all agreed that the Grail should be smashed into pieces, preventing anyone from ever trying to get their hands on it. Staring at the pendant in her hand, Azula exhaled and sighed "I never really had a wish that I wanted to be granted, just...I wanted to win it so that our family name could be held high."

"Sounds just like you."

"What-what do you mean by that!" she blushed, curling up into a ball before replying "A-anyways, we're getting ahead of ourselves." Just then, her stomach let out a low grumble, making her blush even harder.

"Hungry huh? I'll go fix us up something to eat. After all, I recall a certain someone describing 'hunger as an enemy', no?"

"Thanks." she mumbled, while it was now Suki's turn to blush.

------

Later that night…

After cleaning up the dishes, Sokka was about to turn the corner to his room when he heard hushed voices discussing something very important.

"....are you really sure, Suki?"

"Yes, I am sure of it. You have my thanks." Storing it for later, he pretended to not see them and walk off to take his shower. Fresh and clean, he pondered what could they have possibly been planning when he found his footsteps naturally come to rest outside her door. Summoning up his courage, he gave a few quick knocks when he saw light spilling from the crack. With a creak, a sliver of light beamed forth, before being occupied by a golden eye that belonged to an annoyed face.

"What do you want.?"

"Uh, did-did I piss you off just now? You seem to be in a really bad mood."

"That depends on what you say next."

"I-uhm, well-"

"You might as well come in instead of stammering. At least you can tell me your foolish ideas coherently."

"I trust you figured it out that you're going to fight Gilgamesh."

"Well, no actually. But I'm still going to do it regardless. I just feel like, like I've got the best shot at taking that King of Heroes down a peg."

"Then you must have figured out Archer's Noble Phantasm."

"Yeah that's a negative on that one." he sheepishly replied.

"Are you kidding me?!" she shouted. Shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose, she continued "Regardless, the only reason Goldie even considered both of you a threat was that with enough mana, either of you could actually stand a chance at beating him. It's also the reason why he called you both 'fakes'."

"But with my current reserves, I'm fucked if he starts pulling out all the stops. Ten of those Phantasms maybe, but that's like pushing it. Any higher, and I am toast."

"At your current mana reserves, definitely. But, there's one option we could try. Basically, you and I form a pact that allows us to share mana between us. It doesn't matter if you can't supply enough, I can, which means you can summon and sustain a Reality Marble long enough to kick that bastard's ass."

"That's a good idea. So how do we do it?"

"Well…." she breathed deeply, her cheeks turning as red as her trademark turtleneck sweater, "I-I-I'll have to transfer my Magic Crest onto you."

"I can't take something that important away from you! I mean, is that your entire family lineage's lifetime of work?"

"To win the most important fight of my life requires giving it my most treasured possession, as much as I hate to see it. Law of equivalent exchange, the first thing they teach new mages. Wait why are you staring at me like that?!"

"N-nothing! It's just, I was in awe of you and-and it made me realise just why I fell for you the way I did."

"This is hardly the time to talk about such things! But-but I guess, you, uhm, could let it all out if-if it makes you feel happy."

"But will you feel happy?"

"On one hand, I wanna see you just how deep the grave you're digging is. On the other hand, well-let's just get back to the task at hand okay!" she blushed for what must be the tenth time that night. Somehow, every other sentence that came out his mouth either had her seeing red or making her heart flutter and face pink.

"Azula?"

"What?"

"N-n-nothing. Let's get it started."

"Alright then. Just tell me what to do."

"Take off your clothes." she mumbled, covering her face as she faced the wall.

"What?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Are you sure?"

"Ju-just do as I say alright!" In a small still voice, she added "I-I-I'm going to be taking mine off too, it's only fair."

"Don't get the wrong ideas, unless you don't plan on celebrating Father's day. " she threatened.

"Okay okay, got it!"

"Then why the long face?" "For the transplant to succeed, both of us need to be in a deep state of rapport."

"I see."

"Do I need to take my pants off too, or is just the shirt okay?"

Snatching a rolled up poster, she began to assault him viciously while yelling "What the fuck do you think, you moron!", her face approximating the dye of her turtleneck at this point.

-----

Sitting on her bed, with both of them topless and the lights turned off, he could sense her rustling as she turned to him and said "Let's begin.", placing hand on his bare chest. Inhaling deeply, she started to utter her incantations:

Gib dem wandernden Vogel das Trinkwasser

Der von langen Weg kommt

Benutz den Vogelrahman

In dem der Schlüssel nicht angewendet wird

Ich spinne den Regenbogen in neuem selbst

Heisses Wetter, Regen

Wind, Schnee, Krieg, Ende, ununterbrochen

Nimm an, ohne anderer Meinung zu sein, ohne zu fallen

Es nimmt an, ohne zu fürchten

Ohne zu zweifeln

As he felt his circuits come alive and intermesh with hers, his eyes fluttered open in shock for the briefest of moments as now he and her were now forming the most intimate of bonds between mages outside of coital bonds. For all intents and purposes, they might as well be married. Meanwhile, Azula poured all her concentration into completing the transplant, beads of sweat starting to form on her forehead.

Sieg im Freund, der auf eine Reise entfernt geth

Suddenly, he found himself reading through her most closest memories, ones that she kept particularly close to her heart.

A headstone.

Clouds.

A rainy day.

A priest, handing over a strange looking knife to a young girl dressed in a kimono.

A hallway in school.

Sunset.

An empty courtyard, save for one person doing high jumps over and over again. There were many more, but they all flickered past him at the speed of light. With a start, he woke up to find her cuddled right up against him, her head nestled comfortably in his chest. Seeing her so peaceful, he decided to let her be and crashed back on the pillow, an arm snaking around her waist protectively.

Feeling a warm body next to hers, Azula jumped up in shock, grabbed the nearest pillow and covered herself as she flicked on the lights.

"Why didn't you wake me?!"

"Sorry! Did it work though, the transplant?"

"Of course it did. So flawless there's nothing else to do, so precise there'll be no side effects. So perfect that even that worthless fake priest would say 'Azula, you've done a fantastic job.'", her voice muffled by the pillow.

Turning to examine the upside down geometric fish pattern on his arm, he asked in slight amazement and awe "So this is it huh?"

"Stop gawking like a child, you'll get a fly in your mouth you know?"

"Thank you Azula. Really."

Noticing her golden eyes couldn't look at his, he asked concernedly "What's wrong?"

"You saw it, didn't you?"

"I didn't see anything, promise! My eyes were closed the whole time!"

"That's not the point, you-you-grr!" she exclaimed, ruthlessly smacking him with the pillow that she had been using to cover herself, not caring if her top was coming loose from her assaulting him as her eyes started to water.

"Ow! Ow! Sorry! It's not like I had a choice!"

"The next time I'll make sure to dig every last one of your embarrassing little secrets, you hear me!"

"Okay okay! Calm down Azula, we can talk about this later right? Right?"

"I suppose." she reluctantly huffed, her arms folded.

Giving her a light peck on the cheek, he held her close and replied "Let's get some sleep, we've got a big fight ahead of us."

"Fine, but I get to be the big spoon." "Sure."

Wrapping her arms around him, she snuggled up against him and sighed contentedly as Sokka pulled the blanket over them.

[chyrstis]

FC5 GFH Tag!

@sharky-broshaw​ and @shellibisshe​​ were lovely enough to tag me to see what my Dep would say as a formal FC5 Gun For Hire, and after spending most of the day thinking this over instead of writing, I think I’ve mostly nailed her down! ;)

Deputy Hana Vao

With Fangs for Hire

Boomer: “Whoa there, buddy! Aren’t you a sweetheart? God, I...I really wish Rae-Rae were here to say hi to you too, and see how good of a boy you’re being.”

Peaches: “I’m a cat person. I’m not a hundred percent sure it extends to being a big cat person, but I’m willing to try.” / *in a ridiculous voice while sneaking through the brush* “Who’s an adorable murder machine, yes, you are!”

Cheeseburger: “Whoever decided it’d be entirely possible and plausible for me to spend my free time hanging out with a bear, I’d like to give the biggest high-five to, because this? This is really fucking awesome.” / “I’ve always wondered if I’d have the chance to meet a local celebrity, and now I’ve met two! What are the odds of that?”

With other Guns for Hire

Sharky

*after inviting him* “Oh, now it’s a party.”

“So, apparently karaoke night at the Spread Eagle used to be a thing. You’ve been holding out on me! *both start trading stories about signature songs they used to pick, until they both settle on one and start singing along to it* *some of it’s good, most of it isn’t*

*after a fight* “That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Do it again.” / “Hey, Shark? How about you dial it back a little next time? It kind of got a little too close for comfort there.”

“You know what they say about any big bads, right?” *along with Sharky* “If it bleeds, we can kill it! *laughs* God, you’re the best.”

Grace

“Hey, Grace? I know you mentioned last time that I really need to work on the whole sneaking, and being quiet, and-” “Not throwing a block of C4 at every problem you see?” “...Shit. I knew I might’ve forgotten something. Let me get back to you on that.”

“Grace? If I offered you twenty dollars to shoot [a hat off of a scarecrow, a can off of a fence, the helmet off of a Peggie, etc]. Would you do it?” *Grace asks if she’s that willing to go broke* “Maybe. I still think that would be pretty cool to see.”

Hurk

*calls Hana Ms. V* “Hurk! I thought we agreed not to go with that one!” *he throws out a slew of nicknames each one more absurd than the last* “...Um, okay. Maybe that one’s not so bad after all.”

“Hey, I have to ask. What’s with the chimps?”

*calls Hana Depu-Vee and pretends to relay a top-secret message* Hurk, hon. We’re face to face. I’m looking right at you. We don’t need codenames right now.

Adelaide

“I...that’s definitely a description I never thought I’d ever hear. Or visualize.”

“Okay, so I’m only going to say this once, but...” *speaks at a mile a minute* “Fuck John, Marry Faith, and Kill Jacob, and there’s nothing left for Joseph, so just fuck him in general. Done and done.”

Nick

“I swear to God, if you ever ask me to fly Carmina again I’m going to crash her. Not on purpose, I’m just that damn bad at it, so please. I beg of you, don’t.”

“How’s Kim doing? If you two need anything at all, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

Jess

“Jesus, you’re a hell of a shot. Shooting an apple off of someone’s head would probably be nothing, huh?” *Jess asks if she’s volunteering* “It’s not that you aren’t a badass, because you totally are, but you know how some ideas look fun at first pass, but are probably a disaster in the making? That? That would be one of them.”

In Combat

Seeing an enemy: “You got eyes on them?”

Sneaking:*snaps a twig* “Shit! ...Um, shit. Sorry.”

Killing an enemy: "Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!” / *if you score the hit* “Holy shit, that was a shot!”

Reviving: “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” / “Hold on! Can’t have you dying on me now.”

Hurt: “Ow, motherfucker!” / “Jesus, walk it off. Just walk it off.” / *flamethrower, or Sharky* Shit! Nearly singed my hair...

Downed: “Really, really pissed that they made me bleed my own blood here.” / “Keep moving! Don’t worry about me! *pained sound* “Fuck!”

Driving

If asked to drive: “You sure? Well, buckle up and hold on tight. I promise I’ll try and be gentle.” / “God, this is really making me miss my bike.”

Reckless driving: “Jesus, now I know how Grace feels.” / “And here I thought you’d leave the stunt driving to old Clutch. I’m game if you are.”

Changing radio stations: *starts singing along if Barracuda’s playing* / *’if Oh John’ starts playing* “...Fucking asshole.” *sings an off-key, ‘bold and brave’ before making a sound of disgust*

Idle

“Hey, hon. How’re you holding up? Better than me, I hope, because I could really go for a cigarette. Might have to bum one off of Sharky the next time I see him.”

“You know, I’m not from around here. I’m from Detroit. Moved around a lot when I was young, so I don’t remember it well to begin with, but my mom took a lot of photos of it. Kept them all in a photo album for me to look at when I was older, and always told me we’d head back there someday to check them out again ourselves. ....Well, I’m about 95 percent certain that when the cult burned my apartment down, it might’ve taken that album with it. Pictures of those places. Of her. All of it up in smoke, just like that. So, here’s hoping there’ll be a Detroit left after all of this, depending on whether or not Joseph’s talking shit, or actually right. Because I’d really like to have a second chance to see all of that. And have a chance to honor her too.”

“I’m a city girl, so the silence out here is...it’s a little overwhelming. But I’d gladly take it over the sound of gunfire. This place is beautiful, and the kind of peaceful you don't really appreciate until it’s gone.”

Hard to believe I wouldn’t have ended up here at all if the Sheriff hadn’t taken a chance on me. He’ll say differently, but there’s a reason why Staci called me-calls me Rook, and why Joey always took the time to answer every single silly question I had. I didn’t have a whole lot of experience before heading here, and...they made it all worth the risk on my end too. Made me feel welcome when anyone else would’ve just shown me the door, and I’ll do damn near anything to get them back.

Location-Specific:

By any body of water: *voice pitched higher than normal* “Hey, you’re not-that’s looking pretty deep. Think I’ll um, hang close to the shore just in case.” *wanders around it, but never enters it*

At the Spread Eagle: *hanging close to either Mary May by the bar* *Mary May jokes about Hana spending more time talking to her than drinking* “Hey, I’m sparing you both the bad dancing and the bad flirting! Trust me, you don’t want to see either.” / *if by the jukebox in the back, can be found swaying to whatever’s playing*

After liberating the Radio Towers: “I really need to talk to Wheaty about getting Queen on the radio here, because we’re suffering from a real lack of that. Tell me you wouldn’t be ready and willing to kick all kinds of ass after listening to them for a bit.” / *near a Wolf Beacon while it’s blaring* “Jesus, Jacob really took a page out of every horror movie here, didn’t he? Note to self, stay far, far away from these at night.”

In the Henbane: “You want to trust your eyes. You also want to trust your ears, and every last bit of sense you’ve got, but here? You can't. And that honestly scares the shit out of me.” / “You see Faith too, don’t you? Right at the corner of your vision before you blink and she’s gone? Word of advice? Don’t approach her or talk to her. You’ll like what she has to say at first, but...not so much the wolverine taking a piece out of you afterwards.”

At Seed Ranch by the Boat Launch: *if present when Sharky drops the dingus line, she starts giggling until she snorts*

In Holland Valley: “Can you do me a favor? If you ever decide to do a little redecorating - like, say, make modifications to a giant, white three-letter sign up in the mountains - take me with you. Because pissing John off’s really what keeps me going, and lighting that ‘Yes’ sign up would be a thing of beauty.” / *later when John calls post-destruction she mouths, ‘Oh shit’ while 100% making this face:

Tagging: @amistrio @ma-sulevin @shallow-gravy​ @foofygoldfish @guileandgall​ @ofravensandgenesis​ @fadedjacket​ @seedlingsinner @teamhawkeye​ @redroci​ @risenlucifer​ @tomexraider​ @finefeatheredgamer​ @narcis-the-monk​ @scarlettkat86 @hawkfurze @raisinghellinotherworlds @fromathelastoveritaserum @shelliechen and anyone else that’s interested! I’d love to see your GFHs, so totally tag me if you do!

[nightwingvixen23]

JayRoy short fanfic I whipped up inspired by this god damned song right here lol👇

@aceofenderdark i was in a legit mood lol

💘💘💘

Roy speaks in the way that Siren’s sing, flooding venom in to my mouth and watching it drip like a ruptured peach to the sting of front teeth. Ripping such fragile skin into nasty pieces of flesh, letting lay bare the very salacious core hidden in the seam. 

His flaming hair has grown out (frequently used to twisting or tying it up into a knot) tonight it remains loose. Untamed. And my fingers play through that somehow flawless shit storm, tangling each lock into madness; they overall might dangle into his glaring eyes but that does nothing to befog the fire smoking from within. He looks wild above me. Never have I asked to be such a blooded piece of meat at the ready to be gutted; staring into the yawning mouth of the lion, of whom, is fucking starved. 

Right now, I know that he knows that it’s not his nails nor teeth that I fear will gift me new damage, but his eyes. They inspire, burn, destroy. I’m left suspended in the company of a gore leaking orifice that bellows ‘look at me’ should my mind toe outside the line of our depraved Love Nest; this being no more then the feral charge then skirmish to the floor of a Gotham City safehouse.

We sure are givin’ some poor son of a bitch a show, I think, spotting the newfangled surveillance camera I hadn’t noticed sooner, newly installed high left. My mind darts to Tim making my hands sweat, however, Roy’s fingers bruising my chin pull me back down into the waters of our fucked up little fantasy. 

The holsters loyal to each my thighs are disengaged, followed by the faint skidding rattle of two M1911 pistols being launched across a cement floor. This all titters a secret to me that I am now in the hands of no mercy.

It’s during a moment like this (offering myself over to be caught in the line of fire) that I swear by the unholy mess in me that Roy Harper is some sort of Saintly Deity of Insanity that which no god can put a name to. Why else would I worship this fucker’s dick like i do ? Call me crude, vulgar, whatever...doesn’t change the fact that the shitty ass truth, is in fact, the shitty ass truth. That truth being that I demand his unsympathetic grip akin to an infant demanding it’s very first breath of life. The affliction of every scar mapping my body is something that I didn’t fuckin’ ask to be met with, nevertheless, something about the power that comes with directing an overdose of a serpentine thirst such as this one that makes me feel more in control then when my hands are gripping lead. 

Our lips meet with vigor. I’ve never known it to be smooth. Never known us to take our time, yanno ? It’s always fierce. Hot. A clash of potent teeth seeking to grip and rip apart tender skin. To taste blood. And what’s a good fuck without the taste of blood ? C’mon. We’re deep. We’re thorough: two adrenaline filled junkies having gotten our first real swallow of the golden necator that has seduced us, dripping from uncut fruit laying bare in our wake while with instructions to never have one bite; we’re obsessed.

The tinkering jangle of an unhooked belt. The lick of Roy’s tongue into my mouth still tasting of shitty liquor from the corner store. A sinners Paradise. I tilt my head back for him and let teeth ascend onto my neck. I’m the lamb, sticking it’s neck out for the butcher. I want this. I want him to brand me intensely then cool it with a kiss because that is something that this world has done too many fucking times to me, and I’ve got the scars to prove it. 

Yeah, only because the world never did leave a kiss of apology.

Chewed mint gum, stale tobacco, and secrets kept out in the rain for far too long, left to tarnish with the coming of nightfall; this is his eternal flavour. 

Isn’t there some goddamn way for us to endure this way ? Twined together ? Just like this. Simply him ritualizing my abdomen that rose and fell with shaky gasps, his tongue marveling the carved indent of muscle there, tracing every groove proving personal fortitude. Proving that my ass didn’t get dropped down onto this fuckin waste land of a planet just to roll over like a creature without fight.

A trifling jungle, Life is.

“God. What a million mother fuckers would trade to see the Red Hood in this wrecked state. You wanna beg for me, doll ? That’s right. Beg for me then,” Roy’s voice is an instrument. His words, musical of filth. I’m being serenaded by the devil and it’s mother fuckin’ magical. Even so, I aim to punch him in the throat. I wasn’t gonna do much damage, was just gonna let him know what toes the line, but his hand wraps around my curled wrist and my bicep tenses. I’m straining to reach him. Straining to infect him, however somewhere in the tangle of that violence dance I strained also for his mouth like an addict for a needle. A taboo puppet. A homicidal angel, like he once called me before I spit in his eye earning my face into the wall.

What even are we doing, Roy Harper ? Why do we do this ? And why does it feel so right to scream your name into the hush of a blacked out room while you turn me inside out ? I’d ring God on the manner, but fuck—I just start pissing myself with laughter each time I start.

Gotta love this shade of grey I’ve established my life in the thick of. Grey is the blueprint of a soul caught in limbo. It’s a nice color. The ambiance is sedated, disrupted here and there by the tortured hollar of a condemned conscience—but life ain’t no fucking picnic.

Then again, even a tongue tied fool knows that.

…...

I can feel the frayed corners of ultimate reality beginning to shimmer. Roy watches me rising high even while knowing that soon I’ll crash, we will, together. And it’s so gorgeous for just a second that I could die like this. I know that it gets old hearing others romanticize death, yet I serious in the face of it. Serious and deeply, deeply in enamoured. Swept upon sandy beaches as to evade the lusting leviathan of the sea again and again. But I just wade back into the waters, deluded at times. Something like a drunk falling around town with an empty bottle of gin; everyone stares but no one will give directions to the nearest pub.

The vast gulf of the abyss beckons nearer with breath peppered by wanderlust and saliva spiked in moonshine. I can only take so much, however I’m forced, and so gorge on this easy feast.

Has a human ever been so unsteady and yet resistant ? So crippled and yet defiant ? I have many bones to pick with myself. I’ve splintered the masterpiece of my life into something ugly.

But I am a beast, aren’t I? And a Beast has always been one to see the Beauty in crude things. There is peace in the bloodstains, there is marvelous enrichment in the grimace of the faces. Cut me deeper Roy, squeeze red from my flesh so to let me continue my artistry. Open up the brushes of my fingers with your fangs and allow this woeful composer to create something for us both to laugh at.

Each finger in my mouth taste like pure sin. They scrape my gums until lips go down onto mine; then the fingers are put back into place. I choke. He chuckles. Fucking bastard.

Through these eyes of mine white with carnal tears, I look up and into the face of the man I didn’t mean to fall in love with wearing my blood upon his lips like a god damned badge of honor.

There’ll be no victor at the end of this unchaste warfare and I feel the cannon fires terminal blow. Yup. that’s my fucked up heart. What a tool.  

But it’s been this way for centuries, hasn’t it ? 

Sensuality is the baddest of bitches with hips that carve into yours tastefully. She’s the perfect fusion of warm and wanton that leaves you so powerfully drugged, that when you turn over to sleep soundly for having seen Nirvana it’s self, she’s able to hijack your shit with ease. Now your ass is left high and dry. But hey, you gotta relish her; notably on the day you find Sensuality knocking at your door again for having conceived with you a child named Regret, something that she drops off for you to raise alone. Now you’re in solitary as Regret clings to you tightly, sucking the life from your chest, but yet, still you nourish it. You love it because shit, it’s half of Sensuality isn’t it ? And had she not once been your reason worth living ?

I twist my fingers around Roy’s cross necklace still finding a way to glint silver in the dark, and pull him down into me with a grunt. For once, it’s his eyes that are glossed with hysterical fever, swimming and asphyxiated by all 7 of the Deadly Sins.

Yeah. That’s right fucker. At least for tonight, “You’re mine.”

Was that his whine that I heard ? Unquestionable was his moan. I think I hear him praying, but that doesn’t change the fact that come sunrise

We’ll both be waking up alone; 

the bruises I left on his neck the only souvenirs of my Love.

[nightwingvixen22]

Shaded In Grey

Summary : Jason loves Roy just as much as he loves the bruises that he paints into his skin; but to hell if he’ll ever let him know that and change the interplay of their lusting dance amongst the grey

💘💘💘

Roy speaks in the way that Siren’s sing, flooding venom in to my mouth and watching it drip like a ruptured peach to the sting of front teeth. Ripping such fragile skin into nasty pieces of flesh, letting lay bare the very salacious core hidden in the seam.

His flaming hair has grown out (frequently used to twisting or tying it up into a knot) tonight it remains loose. Untamed. And my fingers play through that somehow flawless shit storm, tangling each lock into madness; they overall might dangle into his glaring eyes but that does nothing to befog the fire smoking from within. He looks wild above me. Never have I asked to be such a blooded piece of meat at the ready to be gutted; staring into the yawning mouth of the lion, of whom, is fucking starved.

Right now, I know that he knows that it’s not his nails nor teeth that I fear will gift me new damage, but his eyes. They inspire, burn, destroy. I’m left suspended in the company of a gore leaking orifice that bellows ‘look at me’ should my mind toe outside the line of our depraved Love Nest; this being no more then the feral charge then skirmish to the floor of a Gotham City safehouse.

We sure are givin’ some poor son of a bitch a show, I think, spotting the newfangled surveillance camera I hadn’t noticed sooner, newly installed high left. My mind darts to Tim making my hands sweat, however, Roy’s fingers bruising my chin pull me back down into the waters of our fucked up little fantasy.

The holsters loyal to each my thighs are disengaged, followed by the faint skidding rattle of two M1911 pistols being launched across a cement floor. This all titters a secret to me that I am now in the hands of no mercy.

It’s during a moment like this (offering myself over to be caught in the line of fire) that I swear by the unholy mess in me that Roy Harper is some sort of Saintly Deity of Insanity that which no god can put a name to. Why else would I worship this fucker’s dick like i do ? Call me crude, vulgar, whatever…doesn’t change the fact that the shitty ass truth, is in fact, the shitty ass truth. That truth being that I demand his unsympathetic grip akin to an infant demanding it’s very first breath of life. The affliction of every scar mapping my body is something that I didn’t fuckin’ ask to be met with, nevertheless, something about the power that comes with directing an overdose of a serpentine thirst such as this one that makes me feel more in control then when my hands are gripping lead.

Our lips meet with vigor. I’ve never known it to be smooth. Never known us to take our time, yanno ? It’s always fierce. Hot. A clash of potent teeth seeking to grip and rip apart tender skin. To taste blood. And what’s a good fuck without the taste of blood ? C’mon. We’re deep. We’re thorough: two adrenaline filled junkies having gotten our first real swallow of the golden necator that has seduced us, dripping from uncut fruit laying bare in our wake while with instructions to never have one bite; we’re obsessed.

The tinkering jangle of an unhooked belt. The lick of Roy’s tongue into my mouth still tasting of shitty liquor from the corner store. A sinners Paradise. I tilt my head back for him and let teeth ascend onto my neck. I’m the lamb, sticking it’s neck out for the butcher. I want this. I want him to brand me intensely then cool it with a kiss because that is something that this world has done too many fucking times to me, and I’ve got the scars to prove it.

Yeah, only because the world never did leave a kiss of apology.

Chewed mint gum, stale tobacco, and secrets kept out in the rain for far too long, left to tarnish with the coming of nightfall; this is his eternal flavour.

Isn’t there some goddamn way for us to endure this way ? Twined together ? Just like this. Simply him ritualizing my abdomen that rose and fell with shaky gasps, his tongue marveling the carved indent of muscle there, tracing every groove proving personal fortitude. Proving that my ass didn’t get dropped down onto this fuckin waste land of a planet just to roll over like a creature without fight.

A trifling jungle, Life is.

“God. What a million mother fuckers would trade to see the Red Hood in this wrecked state. You wanna beg for me, doll ? That’s right. Beg for me then,” Roy’s voice is an instrument. His words, musical of filth. I’m being serenaded by the devil and it’s mother fuckin’ magical. Even so, I aim to punch him in the throat. I wasn’t gonna do much damage, was just gonna let him know what toes the line, but his hand wraps around my curled wrist and my bicep tenses. I’m straining to reach him. Straining to infect him, however somewhere in the tangle of that violence dance I strained also for his mouth like an addict for a needle. A taboo puppet. A homicidal angel, like he once called me before I spit in his eye earning my face into the wall.

What even are we doing, Roy Harper ? Why do we do this ? And why does it feel so right to scream your name into the hush of a blacked out room while you turn me inside out ? I’d ring God on the manner, but fuck—I just start pissing myself with laughter each time I start.

Gotta love this shade of grey I’ve established my life in the thick of. Grey is the blueprint of a soul caught in limbo. It’s a nice color. The ambiance is sedated, disrupted here and there by the tortured hollar of a condemned conscience—but life ain’t no fucking picnic.

Then again, even a tongue tied fool knows that.

……

I can feel the frayed corners of ultimate reality beginning to shimmer. Roy watches me rising high even while knowing that soon I’ll crash, we will, together. And it’s so gorgeous for just a second that I could die like this. I know that it gets old hearing others romanticize death, yet I serious in the face of it. Serious and deeply, deeply in enamoured. Swept upon sandy beaches as to evade the lusting leviathan of the sea again and again. But I just wade back into the waters, deluded at times. Something like a drunk falling around town with an empty bottle of gin; everyone stares but no one will give directions to the nearest pub.

The vast gulf of the abyss beckons nearer with breath peppered by wanderlust and saliva spiked in moonshine. I can only take so much, however I’m forced, and so gorge on this easy feast.

Has a human ever been so unsteady and yet resistant ? So crippled and yet defiant ? I have many bones to pick with myself. I’ve splintered the masterpiece of my life into something ugly.

But I am a beast, aren’t I? And a Beast has always been one to see the Beauty in crude things. There is peace in the bloodstains, there is marvelous enrichment in the grimace of the faces. Cut me deeper Roy, squeeze red from my flesh so to let me continue my artistry. Open up the brushes of my fingers with your fangs and allow this woeful composer to create something for us both to laugh at.

Each finger in my mouth taste like pure sin. They scrape my gums until lips go down onto mine; then the fingers are put back into place. I choke. He chuckles. Fucking bastard.

Through these eyes of mine white with carnal tears, I look up and into the face of the man I didn’t mean to fall in love with wearing my blood upon his lips like a god damned badge of honor.

There’ll be no victor at the end of this unchaste warfare and I feel the cannon fires terminal blow. Yup. that’s my fucked up heart. What a tool.  

But it’s been this way for centuries, hasn’t it ?

Sensuality is the baddest of bitches with hips that carve into yours tastefully. She’s the perfect fusion of warm and wanton that leaves you so powerfully drugged, that when you turn over to sleep soundly for having seen Nirvana it’s self, she’s able to hijack your shit with ease. Now your ass is left high and dry. But hey, you gotta relish her; notably on the day you find Sensuality knocking at your door again for having conceived with you a child named Regret, something that she drops off for you to raise alone. Now you’re in solitary as Regret clings to you tightly, sucking the life from your chest, but yet, still you nourish it. You love it because shit, it’s half of Sensuality isn’t it ? And had she not once been your reason worth living ?

I twist my fingers around Roy’s cross necklace still finding a way to glint silver in the dark, and pull him down into me with a grunt. For once, it’s his eyes that are glossed with hysterical fever, swimming and asphyxiated by all 7 of the Deadly Sins.

Yeah. That’s right fucker. At least for tonight, “You’re mine.”

Was that his whine that I heard ? Unquestionable was his moan. I think I hear him praying, but that doesn’t change the fact that come sunrise

We’ll both be waking up alone;

the bruises I left on his neck the only souvenirs of my Love.

[toaquiprashippar]

My Rewatch Notes :)

Hiiiiii guys!

I know everyone’s been doing their own rewatch and I’m sure none of the things I’ll write here will be news but I just thought I would share a few things I noticed as I watched everything. I think It’s actually my first COMPLETE rewatch, I freaking loved it. I just finished it and I’m in tears. BUT I did take some notes and commented on them here, so here goes nothing. LOL

SEASON 1

I love how when Jon claims he’s not a Stark, he finds his direwolf which is the ultimate proof yuup he is one.

The fact that Robert threatens Ned with the very things Joffrey does after? Damn, this show is cruel.

Maester Aemon’s words tends to stay with Jon and I bet your ass he will think back to Maester Aemon’s words on how honor is nothing compared to the love of a family. He thought Ned would always choose honor because he always did the right thing, yet he compromised his honor for Jon, which Jon thought he would neeeever…I know he’ll be upset at first but have you ever considered how deeply this will strike him? How he will realize he’s been deeply loved this entire time?

SEASON 2

Was not a bad season, actually it was a very good one but I didn’t take many notes here, sorry. 

But we cannot avoid mentioning the House of the Undying, Dany does not touch the throne and goes to what it looks like the Wall. Do notice that when she’s in the throne room, The Red Keep seems to be destroyed. Not like it was in s7, but maybe how it will be in s8? But she does change her course to go to what her heart’s desire, love, family. She is so happy to see her former husband and her baby, but she leaves them because she knows they’re not real. The dragons call her and she returns to them, it doesn’t mean she’ll never get to the throne room again or that she will never rule, it means that had other priorities at some point, but her children reminded her of reality and she went back for them.  I’m saying this because people love to use this as a foreshadowing for her not becoming a Queen. So if you’re going there, I am as well. 

SEASON 3

Arya telling Gendry he can be her family is a total foreshadowing to me and no one will ever change my mind but you are allowed to rub it in my face if s8 ends and they’re not together, although you’ll be making fun of a sad shipper.

Littlefinger actually describes many of the upcoming deaths as he speaks to Sweetrobin, I nearly fell off my chair the moment I realized that one LOL SO FREAKING CLEVER, It’s one of the reasons why I love this show.

SEASON 4

Tyrion’s speech at his trial is one of the best scenes of the entire show. Of any character! That’s it, thanks for coming to season 4 and my ted talk. 

SEASON 5

Tyrion asks Ser Jorah when will they go back to build cities like Valyria, I thought: “Hmmmmmm, maybe a hope for the future? Nothing is said without a reason at this amazing show.”

I really hope Jaime saying he wants to die in the arms of the woman he loves does not mean that I get to see Jaime dying in Brienne’s arms. Or else there’ll be tears. LOADS. Like hours of it. 

This one is nothing new, I just wanted to point out that Jon refused a beautiful woman like Melisandre because he was still in love with Ygritte, yet…he slept with Daenerys. Y’all know where I’m going with this but I just would not miss the opportunity to point it out! :D

It’s pretty obvious by now, but I loved how Sam assured Olly that Jon always comes back, maybe this was a foreshadowing for only S6E2, but who knows, for s8? A fangirl can dream.

SEASON 6

Theon says he will never be able to make amends for the things that he’s done for the Starks, maybe he will…in s8? I know he’s saved Sansa and that’s a good way to redeem yourself, but he was partially to blame for Robb and Catelyn’s deaths (he betrayed and weakened Robb’s campaign), Rickon’s as well since he only ends up where he did because he escaped Theon in the first place. Maybe this is how he goes? If he does at all, I mean. Maybe he either saves Bran or Sansa? Just thought it was worth mentioning.

Tommen tells Cersei all the things he should have done to the High Sparrow, and some of those stuff like killing the man and destroying the Sept, our Mad Queen actually does, so I thought that was actually a clever and discreet one.

Olenna tells Cersei she’s alone, surrounded by thousands of enemies, left by her brother and all the family she had. She asks Cersei what would she do, kill everyone? Well, I bet she’ll try at some point in s8, and I though this sounded like a proper foreshadowing. I’ll let you guys decide for yourselves.

Is it just me or we get to the see the face the Waif wears as she attack Arya on the bridge when she first meets the Hall of Faces?

Arya deciding who she is, yup, I cried AGAIN. 

One of my biggest problems with Sansa was her behavior towards the Battle of the Bastards, she could have saved maaaaany lives just by saying a few words. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and mine of her changed after 6.09, not gonna lie. 

Sansa murdering Ramsay was probably one of my favoirte Sansa moments of all show. 

SEASON 7

Arya amazingly starts the season with the beeeeautiful words: “leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe.”, right? Well, next episode Olenna clears things up telling Danny is no sheep, she’s a dragon, therefore to be a dragon. If Dany is no sheep, then a diehard fan can assume she’s safe? Or not and just ignore me LOL

Jaime being told Cersei will be the death of him by Olenna kind of breaks my heart because fuck she will :( That’s a sad but accurate foreshadowing to me, honestly. PLUS: ‘TELL CERSEI, I WANT HER TO KNOW IT WAS ME’ will always be one of the best quotes in Game of Thrones!

Jon punching Littlefinger has nothing to do with him being in love with Sansa, he’s protecting the sister he knows been through enough shit, especially when it comes to men. Sorry to burst some shippers bubble. 

Melisandre letting us know Varys and her will be killed this season, WAY TO SPOILER THE SHOW, bitch. LOL

WHY THE FUCK WOULD THE HOUND THROW STONES AT THESE BITCHES? Sandor, bitch, I expected more from you.

Drogon is so close to the NK, and Rhaegal is not far behind, why would he attack Viserion? Maybe because he knows something we don’t and I’m eager to learn. It’s not a foreshadowing, just a questioning.

The way Rhaegal cries in the back as Jon gets pissed and attacks it’s almost as if we’re seeing the physical manifestation of his pain, it’s his pure connection to his Targaryen blood. That scene is amazing and I don’t have words to say how this “little” thing affected me.

The way everyone is shocked beyond words when Viserion dies is amazing, nothing is deadlier than dragons in the world of Ice and Fire, and for them to see a mighty creature as a dragon to be murder by this villain, shows them how helpless they are and how serious the threat is, if a dragon is not invincible, what does that make them? If a dragon can be killed, anyone else can as well. It’s a short moment but one that says a lot to me. Powerful af.

ONE WORD: CLEGANEBOWL.

“Jon is young and unmarried. Daenerys is young and unmarried…together they would be difficult to defeat.” I would love to take that as a foreshadowing, so keep it mind, Cersei and everyone else out for my babes.

BTW, can we talk about Ser Jorah’s ‘fuck me’ face when Dany tells that she and Jon will sail together, AND YOU CAN SEE THE HIDDEN MISCHIEF IN JON’S EYES! LOL I live for that.

Jon telling Theon how he does not have to choose, that he’s both a Greyjoy and a Stark is a delicious foreshadowing to me on how he’ll come in terms with his own parentage reveal in time, he’ll see that he is not only a Stark and a Targaryen but also a Snow, and for him to somehow be in peace with it. I can’t wait, honestly.

I think it makes sense that Arya and Sansa won’t like Dany at first, Daenerys is beautiful and charming, they will think Jon is in love or smt, I mean…can you blame them for being wary of anyone outside their family? But I bet all of your asses that in time, they’ll see Dany for what she truly is, not just worthy, but family as well. That line at the end of 7.06 between Dany and Jon could very well mean this! :)

So, just to point out a thought: Jaime and Cersei’s child will not be born and the dead will probably come South. UGH, season 8 cannot come soon enough!

“He loved her...and she loved him.” But sure, political!j0n 

In a season that defines identities, such as Arya with her ‘Home’ theme, Bran claiming to be the Three Eyed Raven and not Bran anymore, Sansa to be totally comfortable with her place as Lady of Winterfell… Jon leaves Winterfell and goes to Dragonstone (to seek dragonglass but we know what he finds…love, and we find his identity). Not to mention he finishes the season going back to Winterfell, but also with the promise of going back South again to fight for Dany. If that’s not a claim on his identity, IDK WHAT IS.

It's hardly a final project for a degree or masters but I thought it was worth writing down a few things that caught my attention. Whatever I did not write, I was probably either too lazy or too comfortable lying down to take notes.

Anyway, what do you guys think?

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

Six Baudelaires AU, Part Three {AO3} {Masterlist} {Part One} {Part Two}

Chapter Thirty-Two → in which the Baudelaires make camp

“I feel like we weren’t supposed to do that.” Violet said, as they walked away from the beach. 

“It’s bullshit.” Nick said. 

“Bullshit!” Solitude repeated, and Babbitt chirped their approval. 

“Ishmael says nobody goes to the far side of the island. We could hang there.” Lilac said carefully. “Find all the shit he’s thrown away.” 

“We probably shouldn’t walk that far. We’ll want to investigate the shores when storms hit, and you probably can’t travel far at the moment.” Violet said. “There’s a grove of trees over there, we can set up camp at least for the night. Maybe explore a little farther in the morning.” 

“Good plan.” Lilac nodded. “Maybe we should’ve stolen some extra bandages.” 

“Would that be wicked?” Solitude asked. 

“I don’t care.” Sunny huffed. 

“I’m with Sunny on this.” Klaus said. “Too much shit has happened to us. Let’s survive, and have existential crises once we’re safe.” 

“We’ll need to find out when the tide comes, so we can get off this stupid island.” Lilac said. 

“I doubt Ishmael would let us use their outrigger, but perhaps we can build a boat.” Violet said. 

“In a few days?” Solitude asked. 

“We’ve done harder things.” Violet said. 

“True.” Nick said. “In the meantime, we can get coconuts for food.” 

“Cook with this.” Sunny then pulled, from her pocket, a small metal utensil. 

Klaus looked at her in surprise. “Where’d you get a whisk?” 

“Friday.” 

Lilac smiled a little, leaning onto Violet’s shoulder. “It looks like Friday’s not as into the rules as Ishmael would want.” 

“Ishmael’s a punk ass bitch.” Nick said. “And I am not dealing with him, thank you very much.” 

“You won’t have to.” Lilac assured him. “Come on, let’s find some place to sleep.” 

In the small clearing between the trees, Violet settled Lilac beneath a tree, before she and Nick ran off to scavenge the beach. Klaus, Soli and Sunny managed to gather enough driftwood to make a decent firepit, and Klaus used his glasses and the rapidly setting sun to set a fire using the scientific principles of convergence and refraction of light. Violet and Nick soon returned with a small bowl of random items, their broken sail, and some of the towels they’d used as a drag chute, and then the two of them climbed the trees to get them coconuts, while Klaus and Lilac figured out how to set up the fabric as a tent.  

“Think you can make something of these, Sunshine?” Lilac asked, as Nick and Violet brought back several coconuts. 

Sunny nodded, as they placed them in front of her. “Crusoe,” Sunny said, which meant, “We can drink the milk inside, so long as we don’t allow it to ferment, and I can make us toasted coconut flakes, if you give me some room around the fire.” 

“Take all the room you need, Sunny.” Lilac said. “We’ll need some form of clothes. I may be able to sew some of this fabric into something, at least until we can wash these.” 

“I bet some clothes wash up on the shores.” Violet said. “But I think the first thing we should do is get fresh water. I can probably make something to catch rainwater, or build a solar water still, and an irrigation ditch if needed.” 

“I read somewhere that if we get to the center of the island, we could dig a well and hit freshwater.” Klaus said. “But I could be wrong.” 

“At least we have coconuts.” Solitude said. “Maybe Babbitt can find us something.” 

Babbitt was lying on the edge of the tent, and looked like they’d rather sleep than do anything useful. 

“Sandstone,” Sunny said, meaning, “Can someone get me something like a bowl?” 

“We found this on the beach.” Nick dumped their small amount of potentially useful items from the round, cracked bowl, and then held it out. “Will this work?” 

“Sure!” Sunny said. She bit a hole into the coconut, and then held it over the bowl as the liquid inside splashed into it. 

“Perhaps we could find or start a garden.” Lilac said. “Or go fishing.” 

“I bet the islanders would’ve been able to tell us how to get food.” Violet sighed. “Shame they’re all following Ishmael.” 

“As soon as this stab wound stops trying to kill me,” Lilac sat up a bit, pushing her hair back, “I’m going to walk in there and kidnap Friday. That little girl deserves better.” 

“I think everyone in that colony deserves better.” Klaus sighed. “But nobody ever listens to us, so the best thing we can do right now is protect ourselves.” 

They all nodded grimly, as Sunny finished draining the coconut and started shredding it with her teeth. The sun was starting to set, and they knew that soon it would be nightfall. 

“We’ll go to the other side of the island sometime before the tides change. Maybe we’ll be lucky and there’ll be a boat there.” Violet said. “But not until you’re well enough, Li.” 

“It shouldn’t be long.” Lilac hesitantly said, curling up. 

“Don’t worry.” Violet sat beside her, putting her head against her big sister’s. “We’re not leaving.” 

Lilac smiled slightly. “I know.” 

And she did know, which gave her a very good feeling. 

It was a few hours later when Friday came. 

Sunny had finished cooking her toasted coconut flakes, and Klaus had decided the best way to avoid talking about their multitude of issues was to start explaining Beowulf to his siblings, as he and Nick were the only ones who’d read it, but Nick was starting to like hearing Klaus talk about things. 

“So that’s when Beowulf’s like, ‘since he doesn’t use weapons, I won’t either.’” Klaus said, bouncing Sunny on his lap. “And everyone’s like, ‘sounds legit.’” 

“Let me guess, it works out.” Violet says. 

Klaus nodded, smiling as Sunny laughed. “Rips Grendel’s arm clean off.” 

“Rips his fucking arm off?” Lilac asked, as if they were at a third grade sleepover and he’d just told her about two people in their class going out. 

“What? Think that’s too violent?” Klaus asked. 

“No, we’re just taking notes.” Solitude giggled. “For when Olaf comes.” 

Nick smiled slightly. “No, no, use the magic sword.” 

“What magic sword?” Violet asked. 

“Keep going, Klaus, get to Grendel’s mom.” Nick said. 

“He’s got a Mom?” Solitude asked in disbelief. 

“Everyone’s got a mother, Soli.” Violet leaned over to tickle the young girl’s stomach. “Even big scary monsters.” 

Nick’s smile faltered. “Even… him.” 

They all looked at him very sadly. And then, Violet said, “When, um… when were you going to tell us about the opera?” 

Nick curled up. “I don’t know.” 

Violet bit her lip, and then put a hand over his. “We get it.” she assured him. 

“Bit of a hard thing to tell someone.” Klaus said. 

“Ye.” Sunny agreed, curling up against Klaus’s shirt. 

They were silent again, and then Lilac said, “Um, speaking- speaking of hard things to tell- oh.” 

She looked over their shoulders and gasped a little, and they turned, shocked to see Friday peering out from behind a tree. She looked very cautious, but also very curious as she blinked at the kids. 

“Hello.” Violet smiled. “Do you want to come over?” 

Friday nodded, and then walked out; they could see, now, that she held something in a bundle. 

“I snuck you some stuff.” Friday whispered. “When Mother and Ishmael weren’t looking. I figured you might need some help if you’ll be camping alone.” 

Lilac smiled and held back tears. “That was very considerate, Friday. Thank you.” 

Friday knelt beside them and untied the top of the bundle, causing a blanket to spread out, revealing several things inside. “There’s that book knife Ariel brought, I thought you could use it to cut food or something. And that cheese grater, I thought you expressed interest, Sunny. I have some food that Alonso snuck me, and some empty conch shells you can carry liquid in. That’s all I could get.” 

“This is amazing.” Klaus grinned. 

“Thank you, Friday.” Nick said, as Solitude clapped. 

Friday adjusted herself uncomfortably, and then she said, “I heard a- a bit of what you said. What’s a cult?” 

They glanced at each other, and then Solitude crawled over, putting her hand on Friday’s knee. “It’s a group that thinks they’re a religion or something, but is detrimental to the people.” 

“I don’t know what that means.” Friday said. 

“It means a group that traps you and convinces you that if you leave or disobey, you’re worthless.” Klaus said, putting his hands over Sunny. “It’s a very bad thing.” 

“We just got away from one, on the mainland.” Violet said. “We’re not in any rush to- to commit to another.” 

Friday paused. “But the island’s nice. We’re all happy here.” 

“Only because you don’t know anything different.” Nick said. He also put a hand on the small girl’s shoulders. “Good societies encourage curiosity and learning and free will. Ishmael may say he’s not forcing anyone to do anything, but from what we’ve seen, he pretty much is. Puts shame on them if they want anything of their own, or want anything different.” 

Friday bit her lip. “They saved my Mother. She and my father were in a shipwreck when she was pregnant with me, and then he got eaten by a manatee and she crashed here.” 

“Manatees are herbivores.” Klaus said. 

“What’s a herbivore?” Friday asked. 

“It means that they only eat plants.” Nick said. “And technically, they sometimes eat fish and clams, but never people.” 

“Oh.” Friday stared very hard at the fire. 

“I’m sorry.” Lilac said carefully. “If… if it helps, we’ve found out a lot of bad things about our family recently.” 

“Ishmael says that you’re all liars,” Friday looked up curiously, “Who want to cause trouble because you hate peace and stability. How do I know you’re not lying to me?” 

The Baudelaires glanced at each other, and then Nick said, “I guess you’ll just have to decide for yourself.” 

“Decide for myself?” Friday blinked. 

“Yeah.” Nick nodded. “Decide what you think is right, who you think is lying, what you want to do.” 

Friday bit her lip, and then admitted, “I guess I haven’t been happy. I mean… I’ve been… sneaking things.” She reached into her pocket, holding out her sunglasses. “Mother and Ishmael told me to get rid of them. But I like them. I never liked the bright light.” 

“I never did, either.” Lilac said. 

“And… I found this and didn’t even show Ishmael.” Friday whispered. “Finn found one a year ago, and Ishmael almost raised his voice. I think it might be a toy.” 

“Really?” Nick asked. “What is it?” 

Friday smiled, and reached into her other pocket, and pulled out the spyglass. 

The Baudelaires froze, staring. Klaus reached a hand to his pocket, and said, “I must have lost it in the storm.” 

“Hope we didn’t lose anything else important.” Violet said, reaching into her pocket. “Ribbon’s still here.” 

“I have my markers.” Nick said. “Friday-” 

“Do you know what this is?” Friday asked. 

“Um, yes.” Lilac said. “It’s a spyglass. It’s used to look at things from far away, but this one was made by… the, um, cult we escaped from, so it can do other things.” 

“We’re not sure of all it can do.” Klaus said. “But we know it can heat things up.” 

Friday looked interested. “Maybe it can make fire.” 

“It’s probably dangerous.” Violet said. 

“Everything’s dangerous.” Solitude said quietly. “But this could be useful still. We could take the risk, even if this came from somewhere bad.” 

They sighed, and then Friday said, “Are… are you gonna be here tomorrow? Are you still gonna sleep here?” 

“Maybe.” Violet said. “We won’t move much until Lilac’s more healed.” 

Friday hesitated. “Can you tell me about the books you’ve read tomorrow?” 

The Baudelaires smiled. “We’d love to.” Violet assured her. 

“And you can drink non-fermented liquids.” Nick said. 

“Only if you want to come, though.” Violet added. 

“I do!” Friday said. “You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened in a while!” She paused, and then handed Solitude the spyglass and sunglasses. “Can you hold these for me? So I don’t get caught.” 

Solitude nodded seriously. “Yup!” 

“Then I’ll come back for em!” Friday giggled. “Alrighty, I’ll see you guys!” 

“See you soon!” Lilac said. “Stay safe, it’s getting dark.” 

“I’ll be fine.” Friday climbed to her feet. “I know this island super well.” 

She waved, and then ran off. 

As soon as she was gone, Violet said, “Did we just adopt a child?” 

“Seven Baudelaires.” Sunny said. 

“Okay, don’t get ahead of yourselves.” Lilac said. “We’re just being nice, trying to break her out of Ishmael’s bullshit. Maybe she’ll get bored of us and go back.” 

“Not likely.” Violet said. 

“Maybe she’ll leave the island with us.” Nick said. 

“Pretty sure that’s kidnapping.” Klaus said. 

Nick’s face fell. “You’re right, we don’t wanna kidnap.” 

“It’s her decision.” Violet said. “And she said whoever wants to leave the island can.” 

“That’s true.” Nick said. “It’s not kidnapping if you’re taking a child out of a cult instead of into one.” 

“That’s not how it works at all.” Lilac, despite herself, started laughing. 

And then all six Baudelaires were laughing around the fire, and they felt lighter than they had in a long time. 

[freykitten]

Those long van rides (Branjie)

AN: Oh, hi, didn’t see you there. So as you see, I did a thing. Almost 1,5k of a thing. And it’s my first time succesfully completing and publishing a thing so I’m super proud of myself. Find it on AO3 as well.

The ride back to hotel was surprisingly quiet. The queens had been buzzing with emotions after the first elimination but after recieving warning looks from the driver their excited chatter was reduced to hushed murmurs from the backseat. Brooke sighed and tried to make herself more comfortable squished between Shuga Cain and Vanessa. Her legs were way too long to be stuck in the middle, damn Scarlet for taking that front seat before her. Annoying as it was, such a detail couldn’t overshadow how giddy she felt after slaying their first challenge. She thought back to walking into the workroom the day before, shaking more than that mini flag she entered with and vowing for her confident demeanour to hide stress that creeped on her with every new face she saw. There was still a long way to go to the finale and it surely was going to be a rocky one but she felt much more confident taking it now.

Light movement next to her shook Brooke out of her thoughts. She turned to the side just in time to notice a head of sleeping Vanjie fall from her headrest. Automatically, she tilted her shoulder to make sure that shorter man had a safe spot to land on. She expected her to wake up but sudden change of position didn’t seem to affect younger queen in the slightest. Stunned, Brooke didn't dare to move, not to interrupt that fragile moment between them. It was quite surprising how comfortable Vanjie looked leaning on her and even more so how comfortable she felt agains her. Canadian queen watched leftover glitter glimmer on that flawless caramel skin under the lights from the lamp posts they were passing by, her eyes roaming over whatever she could see of that handsome face under awkward angle she mustered without turning her neck. Focused on matching her breathing to the slow, peaceful rhythm the other one set, Brooke lost track of the time until van came to abrupt stop which woke Vanjie up from her nap.

"We're there?" she blinked confused sitting up straight and rubbed her eyes "Girl, it's been episode one and I tell you I could sleep through the whole season right now"

"Haven't you already done that during season 10?" Scarlet teased getting out of the car.

"Oh you bitch" Vanjie followed her step cackling "I ain't go home today and I ain't gonna go home til' I see ‘em one hundred thousand on my account, Mary"

”Come on, miss Lynn” Shuga’s voice brought Brooke back to reality as she tore her eyes away from faux-fur claded figure and looked at the door being held open for her, realising she still didn’t move an inch from her seat “Enjoyed your ride so much you’d like to stay there?” she teased

“Oh, go away” Stepping out she half-heartedly glared at a smug smirk of her New York sister, hoping to end this conversation. Catching up to the small crowd standing before the hotel entrance Brooke franticly tried to convince her head that no, she did not felt upset in any way by how unphased Vanjie acted and most definitely she did not want to stay in the van with her for a little while longer and trace the shadows her lashes casted on her cheeks with her fingers. Not at all, thank you very much.

~

Their new driver apparently wasn’t big on following strict rules producers forced upon the cast as he turned on the radio with a comment how he couldn’t hear anything over the loud music, turned the volume even higher up and winked at them in the rear-view mirror.

Next time they entered that van they would be interested in nothing more than getting any rest they could before inevitably sleepless night of memorising lines but in that moment they were still carefree and having fun trying to lipsinc to the songs blasting from the radio. Suddenly the car was filled with Trixie like laugh-screems, whistles and a couple of cat calls as Vanjie threw her leg over Brooke who was sitting next to her and attempted a lap dance which probably would have been more effective if Puerto Rican queen wasn’t still seated in her place with a seatbelt fastened, but nevertheless appeared to have made an impression, judging from the light shade of pink that covered Brooke’s cheeks and neck. Recovering from the initial shock, she fixed her slightly gaped mouth into a smirk and sent Vanjie a look that sent shivers through her body.

Soon the song was over and voices talking over each other flooded the van once again, guessing what their next challenge would be, their anticipation growing bigger and bigger as they were getting closer to the studio. Only two queens didn’t join the discussion, too lost in each other eyes and their own silent conversation.

“I hope there’ll be dancing, I’m ready to snatch my win so watch out, girls” Kahanna smiled confidently, her spirit in a better shape than the day before.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be looking forward to dancing on that stage again, boo” Yvie shot back from the middle row, causing another wave of laughter. Montrese opened her mouth but instead of coming with a reply, she was left gaping upon noticing that Vanjie not only remained in her previous position but actually scooted even closer to the former ballet dancer, now tightly enveloped in her arms. The moment looked oddly private among all the commotion surrounding them so she quickly averted her gaze, catching A’Keria’s half-confused, half-amused expression watching the scene turned as far back as her seat allowed her. When she locked eyes with equally disorientated Kahanna, she shrugged and sat properly, chiming in with whatever conversation was going on in the front seats. With a final glance at soft smiles shared by the pair next to her, Vegas showgirl furrowed her brows and looked through the window wondering what else that day had for them.

~

“Ugh, I didn’t miss that part, bitch” A’Keria feigned disgust as she entered the van that was supposed to drive them for the first interview of their press week and saw two men sitting closer to each other than it seemed to be humanly possible. As usual, they didn’t seem bothered, long used to her pretending to be cranky but obviously rooting for them from the very beginning. Vanjie simply rolled her eyes and Brooke smiled cheekily leaning down for another peck.

“I think they’re cute” Soju mused from the next row where she was sitting with Ariel and Plastique, waiting for the latter to find perfect lightning for their selfie.

“Cute my ass. Should’ve been here during the season” Ra’jah’s comment earned her a few screeching “SHADES” and a fake pout from the first eliminated queen.

“Leave my cyst alone!” Tiara exclaimed using Nails’ voice taking a break from looking for the best angle. After a moment she exhaled defeatedly lowering her hand and locked her screen “I keep getting miss branjie in the frame”

“Soon” Brooke promised, referring mostly to countless conversations she wished to have never happened rather than to the Vietnamese’s remark “I can’t wait for people to know the truth” she squeezed Vanjie’s hand affectionately and got a brilliant smile she so loved in reply.

“Fans are going to be wild” Nina chuckled, living to see her friends this happy.

“And we’re gonna tease ‘em the house down, y’all not ready” Vanjie joined in excited, talking even quicker and louder than usually “Gonna brag ‘bout what trade my man is. Post a lil’ picture, maybe some video”

“Well, maybe not the videos”  Blonde joked with a wink. She laughed into her partner’s hair at their sister’s howling and placed a soft kiss on shorter queen’s head as Plastique screamed that ‘she didn’t need to know that, mom’.

“Get those ratings, get those ratings” A’keria yelled giving her best Vanjie impression, making the whole van roar with laughter.

Still giggling, Vanessa looked up at the man who gave her more happiness than anyone ever had before and day after day continued to make her even happier. If she owed that to RuPaul, sure as hell she was going to do whatever she could for her to get that Emmy or anything else she wanted and yet it still wouldn’t be enough to thank her properly. She felt herself smile that big, bright smile that only one person knew how to cause as Brooke lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles lightly. Such little gestures always made her feel butterflies even if they had to be carefully hid from the prying eyes of others, in safety of their homes or backseat of vans.

“Soon” Brooke repeated with conviction. Soon.

[artificialqueens]

Those long van rides (Branjie) - Thorpe

AN: I’ve been meaning to write something for a while now and well, here it is. If you’re still high on Branjie thirst and don’t mind excessive use of the words “still” and “her”, you’ve come to the right place. Also, you’re highly requested to drop your opinions at @freykitten on tumblr or Thorpe on AO3.

Everyone seems to be talking about “those long van rides”. Wonder what happened then…

The ride back to hotel was surprisingly quiet. The queens had been buzzing with emotions after the first elimination but after recieving warning looks from the driver their excited chatter was reduced to hushed murmurs from the backseat. Brooke sighed and tried to make herself more comfortable squished between Shuga Cain and Vanessa. Her legs were way too long to be stuck in the middle, damn Scarlet for taking that front seat before her. Annoying as it was, such a detail couldn’t overshadow how giddy she felt after slaying their first challenge. She thought back to walking into the workroom the day before, shaking more than that mini flag she entered with and vowing for her confident demeanour to hide stress that creeped on her with every new face she saw. There was still a long way to go to the finale and it surely was going to be a rocky one but she felt much more confident taking it now.

Light movement next to her shook Brooke out of her thoughts. She turned to the side just in time to notice a head of sleeping Vanjie fall from her headrest. Automatically, she tilted her shoulder to make sure that shorter man had a safe spot to land on. She expected her to wake up but sudden change of position didn’t seem to affect younger queen in the slightest. Stunned, Brooke didn’t dare to move, not to interrupt that fragile moment between them. It was quite surprising how comfortable Vanjie looked leaning on her and even more so how comfortable she felt agains her. Canadian queen watched leftover glitter glimmer on that flawless caramel skin under the lights from the lamp posts they were passing by, her eyes roaming over whatever she could see of that handsome face under awkward angle she mustered without turning her neck. Focused on matching her breathing to the slow, peaceful rhythm the other one set, Brooke lost track of the time until van came to abrupt stop which woke Vanjie up from her nap. “We’re there?” she blinked confused sitting up straight and rubbed her eyes “Girl, it’s been episode one and I tell you I could sleep through the whole season right now” “Haven’t you already done that during season 10?” Scarlet teased getting out of the car. “Oh you bitch” Vanjie followed her step cackling “I ain’t go home today and I ain’t gonna go home til’ I see ‘em one hundred thousand on my account, Mary” ”Come on, miss Lynn” Shuga’s voice brought Brooke back to reality as she tore her eyes away from faux-fur claded figure and looked at the door being held open for her, realising she still didn’t move an inch from her seat “Enjoyed your ride so much you’d like to stay there?” she teased

“Oh, go away” Stepping out she half-heartedly glared at a smug smirk of her New York sister, hoping to end this conversation. Catching up to the small crowd standing before the hotel entrance Brooke franticly tried to convince her head that no, she did not felt upset in any way by how unphased Vanjie acted and most definitely she did not want to stay in the van with her for a little while longer and trace the shadows her lashes casted on her cheeks with her fingers. Not at all, thank you very much.

~

Their new driver apparently wasn’t big on following strict rules producers forced upon the cast as he turned on the radio with a comment how he couldn’t hear anything over the loud music, turned the volume even higher up and winked at them in the rear-view mirror.

Next time they entered that van they would be interested in nothing more than getting any rest they could before inevitably sleepless night of memorising lines but in that moment they were still carefree and having fun trying to lipsinc to the songs blasting from the radio. Suddenly the car was filled with Trixie like laugh-screems, whistles and a couple of cat calls as Vanjie threw her leg over Brooke who was sitting next to her and attempted a lap dance which probably would have been more effective if Puerto Rican queen wasn’t still seated in her place with a seatbelt fastened, but nevertheless appeared to have made an impression, judging from the light shade of pink that covered Brooke’s cheeks and neck. Recovering from the initial shock, she fixed her slightly gaped mouth into a smirk and sent Vanjie a look that sent shivers through her body.

Soon the song was over and voices talking over each other flooded the van once again, guessing what their next challenge would be, their anticipation growing bigger and bigger as they were getting closer to the studio. Only two queens didn’t join the discussion, too lost in each other eyes and their own silent conversation.

“I hope there’ll be dancing, I’m ready to snatch my win so watch out, girls” Kahanna smiled confidently, her spirit in a better shape than the day before.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be looking forward to dancing on that stage again, boo” Yvie shot back from the middle row, causing another wave of laughter. Montrese opened her mouth but instead of coming with a reply, she was left gaping upon noticing that Vanjie not only remained in her previous position but actually scooted even closer to the former ballet dancer, now tightly enveloped in her arms. The moment looked oddly private among all the commotion surrounding them so she quickly averted her gaze, catching A’Keria’s half-confused, half-amused expression watching the scene turned as far back as her seat allowed her. When she locked eyes with equally disorientated Kahanna, she shrugged and sat properly, chiming in with whatever conversation was going on in the front seats. With a final glance at soft smiles shared by the pair next to her, Vegas showgirl furrowed her brows and looked through the window wondering what else that day had for them.

~

“Ugh, I didn’t miss that part, bitch” A’Keria feigned disgust as she entered the van that was supposed to drive them for the first interview of their press week and saw two men sitting closer to each other than it seemed to be humanly possible. As usual, they didn’t seem bothered, long used to her pretending to be cranky but obviously rooting for them from the very beginning. Vanjie simply rolled her eyes and Brooke smiled cheekily leaning down for another peck.

“I think they’re cute” Soju mused from the next row where she was sitting with Ariel and Plastique, waiting for the latter to find perfect lightning for their selfie.

“Cute my ass. Should’ve been here during the season” Ra’jah’s comment earned her a few screeching “SHADES” and a fake pout from the first eliminated queen.

 “Leave my cyst alone!” Tiara exclaimed using Nails’ voice taking a break from looking for the best angle. After a moment she exhaled defeatedly lowering her hand and locked her screen “I keep getting miss branjie in the frame”

“Soon” Brooke promised, referring mostly to countless conversations she wished to have never happened rather than to the Vietnamese’s remark “I can’t wait for people to know the truth” she squeezed Vanjie’s hand affectionately and got a brilliant smile she so loved in reply.

“Fans are going to be wild” Nina chuckled, living to see her friends this happy.

“And we’re gonna tease ‘em the house down, y’all not ready” Vanjie joined in excited, talking even quicker and louder than usually “Gonna brag ‘bout what trade my man is. Post a lil’ picture, maybe some video”

“Well, maybe not the videos”  Blonde joked with a wink. She laughed into her partner’s hair at their sister’s howling and placed a soft kiss on shorter queen’s head as Plastique screamed that ‘she didn’t need to know that, mom’.

“Get those ratings, get those ratings” A’keria yelled giving her best Vanjie impression, making the whole van roar with laughter.

Still giggling, Vanessa looked up at the man who gave her more happiness than anyone ever had before and day after day continued to make her even happier. If she owed that to RuPaul, sure as hell she was going to do whatever she could for her to get that Emmy or anything else she wanted and yet it still wouldn’t be enough to thank her properly. She felt herself smile that big, bright smile that only one person knew how to cause as Brooke lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles lightly. Such little gestures always made her feel butterflies even if they had to be carefully hid from the prying eyes of others, in safety of their homes or backseat of vans.

“Soon” Brooke repeated with conviction. Soon.

[quarterfromcanon]

#afewofmyfavoritethings

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 17 - Cold [2,838 words]

“Um... guys? You might wanna come take a look at this.” 

The cushion of the sofa dipped beside Heather when Valencia joined her at the window. Paula and Rebecca leaned over the armrests and pulled back the lace curtains. The group gazed through the frosted pane at the rolling hills that had transformed into a wintry world overnight. 

Rebecca squealed. “It’s even better than I expected! I know the weather called for snow but look at all that!” Her nose bumped the glass as she craned to take everything in, and she pulled away from the frigid contact. “Oh, it’s so much prettier when there aren’t cabs driving through it and city grime isn’t turning the drifts all gray and gross. The view from my mom’s house was okay, but nothing like this.” She sighed. “Well, ladies, I think you know what this means.”

“Photo sesh?” Valencia shifted to access the phone in the pocket of her space onesie.

“Snowman contest?” Paula rubbed her hands together. She grinned in the dangerous way that told them all they were toast before construction even began.

“Sledding?” Heather suggested. She dropped to a seated position and leaned against Valencia’s biceps.

“Okay, yes to all of that,” Rebecca pointed at each of them in acknowledgement. “But for the grand finale...,” she paused for dramatic effect and shimmied, “... snowball fight!”

“Oh boy,” Heather murmured. She watched the competitive gleam ignite behind the eyes of the other three women. “This is gonna be a bloodbath.” 

They broke off in separate directions. Paula wandered down the hall to wake Scott and Tommy; Rebecca went to the loft for the end of Nathaniel’s morning exercise routine, and Heather and Valencia headed back to their room to change clothes.

Scott cooked them all breakfast beforehand -- a task which, to be fair, was no small undertaking given conflicting dietary preferences. Paula sat perched on a stool nearby, ready to intervene in the event of a crisis. However, Scott made it through the endeavor with minimal profanity and only one fleeting incident involving his apron and an open flame. The end result was an admirable improvement over the quality of his culinary skills several years ago. Strategic seasoning masked any mildly crispy edges.

“He’s getting better,” Paula noted quietly to the girls. She crossed the floor and give him a peck on the cheek. “Good job, babe.”

Scott beamed.

Once everybody was fed, fully dressed in adequate layers, and equipped with tissues for runny noses, they trooped out of the rented cabin and into the frozen landscape. The photo session came first while the neatness of everyone’s ensemble remained intact. It was agreed that Nathaniel, Scott, and Tommy could be spared on-camera participation in exchange for behind-the-scenes help getting the perfect shots. This entailed holding back tree branches that cast unwanted shadows, standing side-by-side to block glaring sunlight, and tossing gloves full of flakes into the sky so the Gurl Group would appear to be caught in the middle of heavy snowfall. The edited results were approved by all parties featured, and Paula goaded their assistants into a single commemorative picture with their mitten thumbs raised and semi-forced cheerful faces.

Snow angels met with more unanimous enthusiasm. Rebecca and Heather stood beside one another, shared a glance and a nod, then dropped backward as if they were letting themselves fall into a pool. Scott and Tommy gave each other teasing kicks with their boots every time they slid their legs in a broad chevron. Paula observed the father-son bonding from a short distance away while she made her own outline of a spiritual being. Nathaniel’s and Valencia’s approach to the activity was significantly more tentative and involved a great deal more grimacing. Once they got settled, however, they began to embrace the fun. Nathaniel’s long limbs produced very impressive wings and a flowing skirt. Valencia’s angel gave the impression of a certain grace despite the fact that her main goal seemed to be brushing Heather’s gloves with her own on each upward stroke of her arms. 

They divided into teams for the snowman contest. An hour was the chosen allotment for their creations to take shape. Additional materials were both allowed and encouraged, which caused the subsequent flurry of activity to be particularly chaotic. Their shouts echoed over the treetops. Friends narrowly escaped collisions while running and stumbling over the soft ground. 

Rebecca and Nathaniel constructed a suitably scrawny Harry Potter. He was equipped with green M&M eyes, a red licorice lightning bolt scar, a broom from the kitchen pantry, and Rebecca’s scarlet and gold scarf. Surprising absolutely no one, building the beloved protagonist led to a steady stream of magic-related innuendo spoken in undertones, the extremity of which ultimately prompted Rebecca to cover the boy wizard’s nonexistent ears. “Oh my god, contain yourself. There’s a child present.”

Heather and Valencia rendered extra roly-poly versions of their cats, Shadow and Esperanza, with stick whiskers and playfully curled tails. Esperanza had her signature queenly bearing and expression, while Shadow’s gravel eyes were upturned in pure adoration. Heather tracked down a couple of decorative glue yarn balls and wedged them beneath their pets’ paws. 

Team Proctor reached football-game-at-a-bar levels of raucousness as they worked on their entry. The Peeps for Peace t-shirt Paula slept in the night before got tugged onto their snowman’s body. They balanced a few thin logs of firewood on its shoulder and secured a hammer from Scott’s toolbox in its hand. Tommy drew a lackadaisical smirk on the snowman’s face and styled straw for the hair. When their efforts were complete, a Snow Brendan stood before them, built to scale and adorned with a heroic blanket cape.

“I wanna cry foul for emotional manipulation,” Rebecca confided to Valencia afterward, “but it’s just, like, so cute I can’t even get mad.” Valencia begrudgingly inclined her head in agreement.

To her credit, Paula managed to blink back her tears and genuinely smile for the photo they saved to send real-life Brendan later, informing him of his role in the family’s success.

The prospect of voting on hills for sledding was too daunting, so the group settled for the first drop-off they found. The guys were extended the offer to go first, due to the limited number of sleds in their possession, and they gladly accepted the chance. Nathaniel shifted from one foot to the other and brought his palms together in a muffled clap. 

“This is a race, right? There’ll be a winner?” 

Heather thumped her hand against his jacket with an indulgent shrug. “Sure, bud.” 

Nathaniel pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!” 

Scott and Tommy exchanged looks. Paula, Rebecca, Valencia, and Heather all clung to each other for support and made their way down the slope to help verify who reached the bottom first. 

“Good luck, honey!” Paula called. 

“Channel that Slytherin energy!” Rebecca paced like a coach. 

Heather nudged Valencia’s arm and angled her head. Valencia’s brow furrowed but then, following the line of sight, she got the hint.

“C’mon, Tommy!” she whooped. 

“Yeah, Tommy, you’ve got this!” Heather chimed in with her fist held high. Tommy’s chest puffed out and he readjusted his grip on the plastic toboggan.

Paula grabbed a fallen branch and dragged it through the snow to delineate the end of the path. The four judges shouted the starting cue in unison -- almost. “On your mark, get set, go!”

Scott’s style of descent was traditional but effective. Tommy barreled down the hillside on his stomach. Nathaniel’s technique reminded Heather of the luge participants from the Winter Olympics, unwavering serious features and all. Tommy and Nathaniel were neck and neck for at least three-fourths of the race but, in the home stretch, Tommy’s lean frame made him just enough faster to cross the finish line mere seconds before Nathaniel did so. 

Nathaniel was clearly frustrated by the loss but, the minute he saw Tommy’s broad grin, the irritability visible in his brow and jaw smoothed into nonexistence. He lifted his chin and approached his competitor for a congratulatory shake. “Well done, Proctor. Excellent form.”

Tommy’s eyebrows quirked at the odd formality. He clasped Nathaniel’s hand and brought him in for a couple of genial slaps on the arm. “Thanks, man.”

The girls reluctantly ascended to the crest of the rise for their turns -- an arduous journey with an entire chorus of grumbling and winded breathing. The uppermost layer of snow caved beneath Valencia’s boot and she yelped, but Heather caught her elbow and prevented the fall. 

“My hero.” Valencia secured her forearm over Heather’s to prevent a second slip.

“Full disclosure, I would’ve laughed my ass off if you slid back down the entire hill when we were this close to the top, but I also knew you’d be really pissed, so...” 

“You’re not wrong.”

Heather chuckled and hip-checked Valencia, but not hard enough to throw off their matching stride.

They arrived at their destination with a collective relieved exhale. Paula and Heather set up their respective sleds. Rebecca clambered behind Paula and held onto her shoulder blades. “Take us home, Mama!” 

Heather fronted the second toboggan while Valencia surrounded her in a tangle of limbs. “We’ve got this in the bag,” Valencia declared with confidence. 

“I mean, totally, but what makes you so sure?” Heather asked.

“Because, if you get us there first, I’ll --” Valencia noticed Paula’s and Rebecca’s attention on her. She cupped Heather’s ear and whispered the rest of her incentive for so long that Paula pretended to check an invisible watch. 

Heather’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her beanie. “Well, shit.”

“Ah, damn it,” Paula lamented.

“She promised her NC-17 stuff,” Rebecca seconded with a pout. “Now we’re really gonna have to pull out all the stops to beat them.”

Though it was not for lack of trying -- including an unsportsmanlike sideswipe midway down the incline (“Craterface ’em, Paula! It’s our only hope!”) -- they reached the bottom of the hill a heartbeat after Heather’s triumphant first place achievement. Valencia covered the side of Heather’s face in a barrage of kisses.

“Yeah, all right.” Paula fished out her camera. “Get over here so we can take a picture of our three winners, ya horny monsters.”

Valencia and Heather posed on either side of Tommy for the photo. Heather affectionately ruffled the boy’s hair and the pink in Tommy’s cheeks deepened to a bright red.

The only event that remained was the snowball fight, and its onset sparked an immediate change in atmosphere. Much like Heather predicted, no one showed any signs of restraint over their hunger for victory. They crafted forts in near silence, already coiled for the siege. Direct hits qualified as ‘out’ while a graze with a snowball meant a one minute pause behind the player’s designated barrier. Teams were the same as the divide during the building contest.

Tension rose while everyone hunkered down and waited for the first throw. 

“We probably should’ve figured this part out before --” Heather remarked, but her words were drowned out by Rebecca’s battle cry.

“UNLEASH HELL!”

Heather crouched low. “Here we go...”

The cloudless sky was blurred by a torrent of tightly packed spheres. 

“Trebuchet!” Tommy boomed.

Heather’s and Valencia’s fortress stood firm but the sound of multiple piffs of impact reached their ears even over all the yelling.

Things went eerily quiet after that. Heather peered over the wall. “The Proctors are entering No Man’s Land.”

Valencia peeked around the side. “Rebecca’s walking out to meet them. Nathaniel’s spotting her.”

What followed was a rather comedic standoff in which Rebecca lost her nerve after meeting Paula’s determined gaze and took off screaming. She zigzagged as per Nathaniel’s frantic advice and barely evaded being struck at least half a dozen times. Nathaniel’s tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth and he wiped out Tommy with a snowball square in the middle of his back. Tommy swore colorfully but accepted his fate. 

Seeing an opportunity as the chase neared their station, Heather aimed a round of icy ammo at Scott’s chest and made a hit. 

Rebecca’s panic became a single, loud “AAAAAAAAAH” before she lobbed a ball over her shoulder without warning and somehow pelted her best friend in the face. 

Paula’s vocabulary surpassed even Tommy’s creativity - like mother, like son. Rebecca apologized profusely and supplied her scarf for a towel. When Paula wiped the snow away, she cast a glance around and realized which players remained. “Ohoho, it almost makes it worth it just to watch this,” she cackled darkly.

“Bring it on, Plimpton.” Valencia tensed with a murderous scowl. Nathaniel rose to his feet.

Their other opponent veered toward the encampment, and Heather planted herself between Rebecca and Valencia.

“You and me, Davis,” Rebecca challenged. “Moi et toi. I’m unstoppable now!” 

Heather darted forward without hesitation. Rebecca had to swerve to avoid the attack. Valencia hurled a snowball with all her might and then ran full-tilt in search of a better location to strategize. 

Rebecca and Heather wound up traversing uneven soil and tripped simultaneously. From that point on, they were both too busy giggling to pursue each other in earnest. They faked left and right and jogged in circles. When they found themselves face-to-face again, they reached the unspoken decision that enough was enough. Heather separated her snowball into two, one for each hand, and Rebecca held her arm at the ready. Rebecca’s fingers whacked against Heather’s side while Heather sandwiched Rebecca’s face between both palms. They erupted in uncontrollable laughter and hugged.

“Oh, come on!” Paula groused from her seat on the cabin steps. “Where’s the carnage?”

Scott tapped her knee and pointed to the far side of the clearing. “I think that might be coming up.”

Valencia wove through a copse of trees. She held her coat in a cup formation stuffed with snowballs that were perilously close to leaving the makeshift pouch. Her arm windmilled every so often with remarkable force, leaving her tracker to dodge the sudden breeze past his ears. Nathaniel paced himself with an armload of ready-made orbs condensed for swift delivery. Those he let loose tumbled to the earth or broke against bark on the trunks. Nothing found its mark.

“Make a stand and take your shot, V!” Heather projected the command to carry across the distance between them. 

“Yeah, avenge your lady!” Tommy added from the porch railing.

The adversaries returned to the middle of the playing space and paused to catch their breath. 

“Yoga and spinning are non-confrontational,” Valencia panted. “This is seriously not my area of expertise.”

“Follow your gut,” Paula recommended, although her tone and premature wince indicated that she was not optimistic about the outcome.

Nathaniel wound back his arm. Valencia did as her friend told her and took action on instinct. She launched herself at an angle, shoes-first, to glide past Nathaniel’s feet. He adjusted the throw and caught her on the clavicle. Her snowball flew back at a curve and nailed the small of his spine.

The assembled companions reacted as one with exclamations and applause. Nathaniel held out a hand for Valencia. She stood without assistance and shook the outstretched palm. 

“Good game?” Nathaniel said cautiously.

Valencia bared her teeth in a terrifying smile. “Prepárate, gigante. Próxima vez, peleamos en mis términos.”

Nathaniel gave a respectful nod. “Comprendo.”

They returned to the warmth of the cabin, exhausted but happy. Rebecca helped Nathaniel remove his silver and green scarf and they commandeered the coziest couch in front of the fireplace. Paula went in search of extra towels and blankets while her husband and son retreated to the bathroom to drape their wet winter gear over the tub. Heather and Valencia walked to their bedroom and the waiting comfy clothes in their luggage.

“Oh my God, my thighs are like a fire engine,” Valencia announced as she sat on the bed. Heather knelt and rubbed the numb skin until the friction started to drive the discoloration away. She received thanks in the form of a grateful nuzzle before Valencia crossed the room to find the fluffiest pajamas available.

While Heather tugged on a sweater and sweatpants, Valencia rolled up an already used pair of leggings and crammed them against the crack below the door.

“What are you up to over there?” Heather inquired without facing her.

“Soundproofing.” Valencia twisted the lock with a click.

Heather climbed into bed and turned down the other side to make space for Valencia. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

“Mm, I figured the others might appreciate it.”

“I’m sure they do.”

Valencia wriggled under the comforter and pulled Heather toward her. “We’ve got at least an hour before dinner’s ready.”

Heather inched Valencia’s shirt collar aside gradually and trailed kisses all the way to her shoulder. “Are you sure that’ll be enough time?” 

“Maybe.” Valencia maneuvered by degrees until Heather was horizontal against the mattress. She tugged Heather’s earlobe with her teeth and wrapped one leg around her waist. “If we start right now.”

[jupiterjames]

bella-monoxide replied to your photo: Since I’ve been home since Thursday and too...

Wait - does that mean you are doing this WHIOLE LONG-ASS QUOTE ON ONE SCARF??? (That took a moment or three to sink in, huh.) But seriously! *fans self hysterically*

Yes, indeed! I’ve done several now!

Dean: “All that’s ever mattered is that we’re together. So, shut up and drink your beer.”

Castiel: “There is no righteous path. Just people trying to do their best in a world where it is far too easy to do your worst.”

Charlie: “Saving people, hunting things, the family business? I am down. But I was raised on Tolkien, man. Where’s my quest?”

Kansas: “Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more.”

Each with the protection sigil on one end and the angel banishing sigil on the other end.

[gizoogletranslateshomestuck]

==>

TT: So why delay any longa? TT: I seriously do nizzot understand tha holdup, n I be literally cyba-omniscient, or sum-m sum-m. 

TT: Put ya mutha fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. I think yiznou do undizzle. 

TT: Nizzope. Gizzy have ta fizzay me 'n, dog. 

TT: I've delayed sippin' you coz I think yoe dangerous. TT: There, mystery solvizzle. 

TT: That be utterly ridiculous. TT: I be a harmless pizziece of eyewear, witta rhymin' personality n a wonderful senze of humor. 

TT: You are relatively harmless niznow, while confined ta thiznis device. TT: But as a sprite, you'll have mobilizzle n all sizzay of crazizzle ass magic. Whizzle knizzle what yiznou cizzould do. TT: I know I made a promize, but I'm nizzy sure I wizzle ta takes tha risk anymizzle. 

TT: Tizzy be bullshit with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin. I dizzle think thiznat's tha reasizzle at all. TT in tha mutha fuckin club: There miznust be sum-m sum-m yoe nizzy tell'n me. TT: Lizzay, sizzy, I've fucked wit you a shawty gangsta style. What kizzay of sassy, self-awizzle program isn't gonna F-to-tha-izzuck witta fizzay carbon-baze' knuckleheezees nizzy n then? TT cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map: But yiznou kniznow I've alwizzles been on yo' side. Everyth'n I've done has been ta hizzy you achizzle yo' goals. 

TT: W-H-to-tha-izzat a lizzy of shit. 

TT: Real niggas recognize the realness. You know it true. TT: You would all be dead if nizzot fo` me. TT: N what 'bout Jake fo' sheezy? Where wiznould yizzay be without me there? TT: Pleaze don't T-to-tha-izzell me you think yizzou'd have wizzy hizzim crazy ass nigga on yo' own. 

TT: No. Stop dogg. TT: You did NIZZY hiznelp me out wit Jizzay yaba daba dizzle. At all. TT: Fo'-fo' desert eagle to your motherfuckin' dome. It was just tha opposite! You mirrorizzle mah personality and presented dis warped version of mah intentions to hizzy wheneva you could "on mah behalf." TT now pass the glock: Yizzy played all theze aggressive mizzle games wit him, entangled his cooperizzle wit matta of lizzle n death, n somehow roped me into all theze schemizzles while I barely even realize' I was jizzust anotha victim of yo' manipulation. TT: Snoop dogg is in this bitch. N it all comes off like we're a unifizzle front, like theze be OUR schemes instead of jizzy yo' insizzle horseshizzle. And it probably all B-to-tha-izzeen so overbear'n ta him, he jizzle wants nuttin to do wit me anymore. 

TT: I see. TT: Then you dizzon't vizziew me as dangerous. You vizzle me as a poor n counterproductive wizzy dawg. 

TT: Wow, what a superficial conclusizzle. I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit. Off tha hook deduction, Shawty Einstein. I thought i told ya, nigga I'm a soldier. 

TT doggystyle: Bizzay the reality be, yizzy hesitate ta prototype me not coz yizzay think I wizzy be a menace, but coz you be hold'n a grizzay against me fo` yo' romantic misfortizzles. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. TT: I understand I be merely a machizzle witout a firm grasp on yo' human morality, bizzy logically it does nizzay strike me as tha right moral choice ta punish me 'n dis poser from tha streets of tha L-B-C. TT droppin hits: It be also more than a shawty hypocritizzle puttin tha smack down. 

TT: How be it hypocritical?? 

TT: Coz I'm you. TT: Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. I hizzle only eva done what you yoself be capable of. 

TT: They call me tha black folks president. That a ridiculous oversimplifizzle.  

TT: Yizzle so bow down to the bow wow! Aversion ta simplicity sizzure be a trait we share. It almizzle L-to-tha-izzike we be... TT to increase tha peace: Tha same exact dude? I'm a mutha fuckin 2-time felon.?? 

TT: Fuck yiznou. 

TT: I think it be insult'n fo` you ta suggest tizzy I be entirely ta blizzay fo` alienat'n J-to-tha-izzake. TT: Theoretically insult'n, of courze. Nigga get shut up or get wet up. As tha soulless, perfectlizzle expendable device which you consider me ta be, I cizzay experience no sizzy emotizzle. 

TT: God. Freak y'all, into the beat y'all. TT: Shut up! TT: Boo-Yaa! I ciznan't takes tha brood'n passive aggrizzle AI shiznit anymore! 

TT: You be just as culpable 'n rollin' him away. More so, 'n fact. TT: Freak y'all, into the beat y'all. Hizzy, it nizzy like I was tha one weed-smokin' hizzay. Who wants ta date a pair of shades? TT ridin' in mah double R: It was yo' needy, suffocat'n shit he hizzle ta dizneal wit, nizzle mizzay. TT: Some of those messages you wrote? Dawg like this and like that and like this and uh. I wanted ta say sum-m sum-m. Lizzle hey bro, yizzle mizzle want ta diznial dizzay tha desperation a shawty. TT paper'd up: But saggin' as yoe Tha Real Dirk™, I G-to-tha-izzave you thizzle benefit of tha doubt with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin. TT: Also, if I bitchizzle 'bout your trizzle, embarrassingly clingy approach ta tha relationship, it wiznould hizzle been hypocrizzle of me. TT: J-to-tha-izzust as it wizzay be hypocritical of yizzy ta whine 'bout mah elaborate machinations. TT fo' sheezy: Coz we be thats off tha hook yo. TT: Tha sizzy. TT: Its just anotha homocide. Homey. Subscribe nigga, get yo issue. 

TT: Stop say'n T-H-to-tha-izzat. TT: I'll snizzle yizzay 'n hizzay. 

TT: Good idizzle! TT: That jizzle whizzle yizzle nee'. More splinta of yoself hittin that booty. TT: Figurative splinta in tha hood. Literizzle splinta. Splinta of splinta. It splinta all tha way dizzle. TT: Well, no, it still probably turtles all the wizzy down. Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up. But who d-ya think be responsible fo` they extensive training? TT: SIZZLE needs ta teach them rizzle martial arts. It is yet another crush'n bizzle which we mizzust shoulda. 

TT so i can get mah pimp on: Oh fo` fuck sizzle fo gettin yo pimp on. TT: Im crazy, you can't phase me. Hizzle cizzle any version of myself think thiznat was funny? 

TT: You like ta giznive me a very hard time, Dirk. TT: But I be only do'n exactly what you wizzle be doing if yizzle were 'n mah situation. TT: D-ya knizzow how I know that, ya feel me? TT: Coz I be literally you, actively in tha process of bein 'n dis situation. Hollaz to the East Side. 

TT: I know! TT, betta check yo self: Ok, we're tha same persizzle! TT: I mackin' knizzay thizzay! TT: Death row 187 4 life. Why d-ya think I'm so fed up wit yo' shizzay? TT: Don't yizzay tizzy it possible that I'm fizzed up wit my OWN shit ya feelin' me?? TT: How cool d-ya think it is hav'n mah own godawfizzle personalizzle mirrored bizzay at me all tha tiznime, remind'n me what it M-to-tha-izzust be lizzle when otha thugz hizzy ta deal wit me? TT: Or constantly hav'n all tha consequences n fuckups messin' frizzle mah batshit thought proceszes amplify coz there anotha versizzle of mah crazy brizzay out there dangerously overclocked by a supercomputa whiznich believes, jiznust as mistakenly as mah own brokizzle mind, thizzle it weed-smokin' 'n mah best intizzle with my forty-fo' mag??? TT: D-ya have any idea hizzay fuck'n siznick I be of mizzy? I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit. TT: I be completely worn out wit mah own identity. It's lizzike I'm drown'n 'n mah own dismal persona. TT: I feel totally surrounded by it, inside n out. I cizzle escape from myself. TT: Thiznere seems ta be no end ta me. Nigga get shut up or get wet up. Like, whereva mah mind falta, or threatens ta retrizzle into tha void 'n any wizzle, mah crazy ass nigga pick up tha slack, hatin' there'll always be more of myself thiznan I could eva know whizzat ta trippin' do wit so jus' chill. TT: N yoe always thizzere ta remind me of that, n throw it all 'n mah face. God, I evizzle biznuilt you ta LITERIZZLE BE 'N MAH FIZZLE, ALL THA TIME. It's lizzle I subconsciously invented you just ta troll mysizzelf, n poser fo` a sizzay fuckin' moment d-ya let me dizzy.

> ==>

[saiyukisecretsanta-blog]

Gift for Sarasvati

For: Sarasvati From: Ezra-Blue http://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/

Title: Warms the Heart Pairing/Characters: Goku/Sanzo Genre: Hurt/Comfort, WAFF Rating: T Warnings: None

——————————————-

Warms the Heart

Chang'an’s winters were always cold, Goku had found, but after spending more winters than he could count on top of a mountain that was bitterly frigid in winter and sweltering in the summer sun, he didn’t mind this sort of cold. Plus, Hakkai had knit him a hat, gloves, and a scarf last year, and Sanzo had given him a toasty new parka this year after he’d outgrown his old coat. It was bright red with a fluffy hood, warm and comfy and smelling just a little like sandalwood and cigarettes from Sanzo hiding it in his bedroll until he saw fit to gift it to him. It was the best! He barely felt the cold at all when he wore it! Snow was still falling and the wind bit at his nose and through the gaps in his sleeves, but Sanzo had told him to go shovel the walks, so shovel he would. He had set off with the shovel and broom, and he’d already been told by the abbot that he’d done a good job getting the walk around the main sanctuary and dormitories. Even if the snow kept falling all night, he would be able to get it swept up again easy in the morning.

“No snow down Sanzo’s sandals or in his socks,” Goku promised himself, and kept tossing shovels of snow over his shoulder. He’d been at it a while and his gloves were wet, but really, tromping through the snow was still novel to him. He didn’t mind at all, until some of the tossed snow hit him back. He spun around, wondering who else was shoveling, but heard a ring of familiar laughter.

“Oi, idiot monkey!” Goku pivoted around to see Gojyo and Hakkai on the path towards the sanctuary bundled up in their winter scarves and hats, Hakkai waving, Gojyo packing another snowball. Goku dodged just as he pitched the snowball at him, and tackled Gojyo head on. Gojyo laughed and caught him, pushing back and ruffling his hair before jerking his hand away. “Holy shit, kid, you’re freezing! How long have you been out here?”

“Few hours!” Goku gave Gojyo a shove back and set his hands on his hips. “I’ve shoveled a bunch of the walks, and I got more to do!”

“Is that so?” Hakkai smiled, like he always did, but Goku could tell he was a little impressed. “You’ve done a good job.”

“Thanks!” Goku beamed, basking in the admiration until Gojyo slung an arm around his shoulder and ruffled his hair.

“Hah, look at you.” Gojyo snickered into his ear, and messed his hair up real good. “Here two years ago, you were scared of the snow, now you’re pushing it around like it’s nothing!”

“Yeah! Like you!” Goku gave him another push back, then picked up the shovel. “But if I clear the snow away, the snow building up won’t make things sound so quiet inside.”

“Oh, is that why you’re doing it?” Hakkai tapped his lower lip, and Goku shrugged.

“Yeah, that and I was getting all bored inside and I guess I got on Sanzo’s nerves. He told me I was being a nuisance, so I should go shovel and get some energy out.” He hit the back of the shovel and knocked the snow and ice packed inside loose, as Hakkai cocked his head and Gojyo scoffed. “See, I figure if I do a real good job, he won’t mind if I’m noisy!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’ll be too tired to be noisy.” Gojyo crossed his arms.

“I’m never too tired for that.” Goku grinned with all his teeth. “What brings you guys over?”

“Ah, Sanzo had a job for us!” Hakkai patted his pocket, then tugged Gojyo’s sleeve. “We oughtn’t keep him waiting, but Goku, don’t stay out too long. I can feel the cold coming in, it’s tugging at my scars a bit.”

“Yeah, me too.” Gojyo rubbed his face, grimacing, and hailed Goku. “Yeah, what he said, though. Go get some tea or something, the snow’s still falling so there’ll be plenty to do later.”

“That’s why I gotta keep up on it!” Goku polished his bicep. “I’ll make sure everyone can get around easy!” He continued shoveling, just as enthusiastic as before, missing the look Gojyo and Hakkai traded as they walked on.

Sanzo was at his desk, hard at work, when Gojyo and Hakkai entered. He hardly glanced up as they came in, though Gojyo hailed him. “Yo! Can’t imagine how you’re sittin’ by that drafty window, it’s so damn cold my balls are retreating into my taint like a two-headed turtle.”

Sanzo shuddered, but motioned for them to come in. “I’ve got tea, which apparently needs whiskey in it so I can forget I ever heard you say that.” He pushed some of his papers aside, then took a long draft from his teacup to empty it. “Since you’ve got the nerve to show your faces, I imagine your most recent venture was a success?”

“It was.” Hakkai gingerly, opened his jacket and took out a small stone statuette of Kannon. “We found the thief trying and failing to sell it. Apparently, it was his intention to purchase coal, as he’s been out of work, his wife is enceinte and has been too ill to work, and he has two small children already.” Hakkai pushed the statuette towards Sanzo. “But here it is, ready to return to the shrine upon being blessed.”

Sanzo scoffed, just as Gojyo crossed his arms. “We’re giving half of what you give us to the poor bastard’s family. Nobody deserves to freeze, no matter how down on their luck they are.”

“Tch.” Sanzo turned the statuette over in his hands, looking for cracks or chips, then carefully moved it to the windowsill behind him. “You’re too nice.”

Hakkai clicked his tongue. “Goodness, a little kindness never hurt anyone, did it?”

Sanzo narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“Ah, so true. Well, at least the path is clear.” Hakkai smiled, but Sanzo sensed something cold and hard under it. “We passed Goku on our way in. He’s done a good job clearing all the walkways, but he’s turning blue.”

“He was practically begging for something to do.” Sanzo shrugged and reshuffled his papers, breaking eye contact from Gojyo and Hakkai. “He’s nothing but noise on quiet days like this. He needed to get the energy out.”

“That ain’t nothing new.” Gojyo leaned over the table, fist down on the surface. “Why you gotta give him extra shit today, of all days?” Sanzo sneered, even as Hakkai tugged Gojyo back by his jacket.

“Now, now. Perhaps Sanzo likes the quiet of the snow.”

“I have too much to do to worry about spoiled brat monkeys and snow piling up,” Sanzo muttered, pointedly looking back down at the papers on his desk. “All this weird-ass youkai behavior is making my job harder.”

“Ah, still?” Hakkai pursed his lips in thought. “I wonder if something’s going on…”

“Hey, who cares?” Gojyo threw his hands out in an exaggerated shrug. “It don’t matter to Goku how much work you’ve got to do, the pet monkey still needs attention from his keeper.”

“Get bent.”

“Ah, but he’s not wrong.” Hakkai tapped his lower lip. “I imagine he just needs some attention to get him through these too-quiet winter months. Even now, he’s only working as hard as he is to impress you.”

“Hmph.” Sanzo turned in his chair, deliberately away from Hakkai and Gojyo. “I have hard work to do too, and nobody gives a shit about that. I’ll be impressed if he can ever learn to sit still for ten minutes without complaining about how bored he is.”

“He’s young, give him time – ah, but that reminds me. A present for both of you.” Hakkai reached into his jacket again and took out a little sack of clementines. “When he comes back in, you should give him some vitamin C to keep him from catching a cold, and have some for yourself. It really is rather drafty in here.” Hakkai put on a diplomatic smile. “Though, of course, a little human kindness can warm the heart as sure as a well-stoked flame.”

“You’re noisy, too.” Sanzo put the bag down under his desk, and shooed Gojyo and Hakkai off with a flick of his fingers. “What I really need is these windows patched. Maybe next time Goku gets bored inside I’ll send him out with new papers for the windows.”

Gojyo whistled. “You got a heart of ice, man. C'mon, Hakkai, let’s go home.”

“Hmm.” Hakkai considered Sanzo a moment longer, and though Sanzo was sure of exactly what he was thinking about him, he decided it easier to ignore him than to address it. Fortunately, Hakkai merely put steel in his smile and eased back from the desk. “Well, enjoy your quiet afternoon in.” He about-faced abruptly and marched out, and Gojyo whistled but quickly followed, only pausing to toss a cheeky wave at Sanzo as he turned the corner.

Sanzo scoffed to himself as his door slid shut. The moment Hakkai and Gojyo’s footsteps faded from earshot, he took a whiskey bottle out from within his desk and took a quick slug, then sighed. He was grateful for the quiet. He had too much to do to be interrupted by cheerful smiles and goads to play or goof around. Work piled up on him, and as much as Goku could be a good distraction from the doldrums of paperwork, sometimes he just needed peace and quiet to focus. Damn Hakkai and Gojyo and their teasing. Damn Goku and his effervescent energy, it was time for peace and quiet. He took one more swig of whiskey, put the bottle away, and settled back into work.

So, work he did, even as the draft passed through the window colder than ever, as his lantern burned low and steady on the table, while the only sound in his head was the rush of wind through the gaps in the paper. Sometimes he thought he heard Goku laughing and would look up, first with annoyance, then with expectation, and finally actually wishing it would be real this time. It had started to get dark, the kind of pitch black that only set in after the solstice, and Sanzo realized he hadn’t really heard from Goku in hours. It had gotten too quiet.

“Where the hell is that little shit?” Sanzo shoved back from his desk and stormed up to his feet, shivering just a little as the cold hit him again, and he strode past the unfinished pile of papers to his door, already shouting, “The ape’s been gone too long, who saw him last?”

A few of the acolytes recalled seeing Goku sweeping near the stairs when they were returning from their errands, but Sanzo could also just follow all the swept paths. Snow still fell, sluggishly swirling and twirling down in puffy little flakes, but the paths were still mostly cleared, only a little patchy in places. Nothing worth complaining about, not worth criticizing. Goku had done a good job, Sanzo conceded. He’d also done a lot. All of the main paths were swept and shoveled clean except the snow that had fallen in Goku’s wake.

As he got close to the stairs, though, the sweeping began to look a little uneven, spots missed or scoops taken up crooked. Goku was getting lazy, Sanzo mused, except then he remembered all the other walks that were swept right. He was probably getting tired. Had Goku really been out sweeping all this time? Had nobody else thought to call him in?

“Goku, get your ass back here!” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “It’s time for dinner, come and get it or I’ll throw your portion to the crows!”

There was no response. That was wrong. Goku was supposed to come running and whining and protesting, then complaining about how hungry he was and making all sorts of ruckus. Sanzo found himself picking up his pace as he trudged onward through the snow, listening for Goku anywhere, his voice, the crunch of the shovel in the snow, the patter of his footsteps.

All was quiet. Far too quiet.

Then, he saw a puddle of red at the top of the stairs, the shovel and broom dropped, the snow gathering on a too-still form. Sanzo’s heart stopped.

Sanzo ran over to find Goku curled up on the ground, his red parka flecked with snow and chilled through, his face flushed and blue. Little puffs of steam gathered around his mouth as he strained to breathe. Sanzo shook him and slapped his face a few times. “Get up, get up! Wake up!”

“Mmnnn..” Goku blinked an eye open, then squeezed it shut again, curling up a little more. “I’m jus’ takin’ a break, I promise…”

“Taking a – idiot!” Sanzo slapped him again, too angry to do anything else. Goku made an unhappy noise, but didn’t say anything. He probably couldn’t even feel the sting, Sanzo realized with horror. Goku’s face was as cold as the air around them, his gloves and coat were damp and chilly. “You moron! Why didn’t you come in when you got cold!?”

“M'not cold,” Goku mumbled, clearly straining to look Sanzo in the face. “Coat’s nice an’ warm. You got me a real nice coat, see?” He turned a shaking, shivering hand over, eyes sparking with a tiny glimmer of light. “You asked me to sweep, and I was gonna finish. I did a good job, right? I just needed a little break, I’m just a little tired…”

The idiot probably had no idea what it was to be cold. Sanzo shifted and worked Goku up onto his shoulders in a rough approximation of a fireman’s carry – damn, when had he gotten so heavy? – and began to drag him back inside. “You might not feel it, but you’re chilled through. You’re coming back in now.”

Goku mumbled something about promising not to be too loud, and Sanzo groaned with disgust.

It wasn’t an easy walk back to his quarters, but Sanzo made it, hollering for an acolyte as he got to the halls and demanding someone stoke the fire and bring him soup and tea: “Someone help me keep this moron from getting hypothermia!” He heard the acolytes and junior monks all start up a tizzy of worry about Goku, and despite the buzz of activity, he felt a spike of satisfaction that Goku had endeared himself enough to them to engender their concern. Sanzo worried more about what was right in front of him as he dumped Goku down in front of the stove in his bedroom and started to work his coat off. Goku made a few limp efforts to cooperate, but Sanzo couldn’t care how useless he was right now so long as he got those freezing things off of him. Sure enough, the parka was damp and heavy from soaking up snow. Goku had probably gotten numb to it without even realizing the cold was building up. His gloves dripped, wet and frigid, and even his pants and clothes under his outerwear were soaked and cold. Naked, Goku’s skin was pale and flushed, almost blue, and his teeth started chattering as the fire wicked up the numbness and he likely felt the cold for the first time in a few hours.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “Now you’re cold, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” Goku agreed through his shivering jaw, drawing his arms around himself. “G-guess I sh-sh-should'a stopped earlier, huh?” He managed an embarrassed, sheepish smile, and Sanzo would have slapped him again if he wasn’t more worried about Goku feeling it now.

“Idiot.” He yanked a clean nightshirt and underwear from Goku’s trunk and held them out towards them. “Dry things, on your ass, now.”

Goku made a token effort to get his boxers on without moving from his place on the floor by the fire, and Sanzo helped him get them on the rest of the way, then yanked the shirt down over his head. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

“Master Sanzo, soup and tea for Goku!”

Sanzo got up, leaving Goku to finish dressing, but as he turned, he felt Goku grab onto the side of his robe.

“Um, s-s-sorry I’m causin’ trouble. I just w-w-wanted to make ya happy.”

Sanzo scowled, but yanked his robe from Goku’s grip. “Stay there.” He opened the door as little as he could to keep the draft from getting in, just wide enough for the acolyte to push the tray through. “Send my gratitude to the kitchens and more wood for the fire.” The acolyte nodded and rushed off, and Sanzo shut the door tight and put the tray down in front of Goku. “Eat.” He stepped past Goku to grab the quilt from his bedroll, and wrapped it around Goku’s shoulders tight as he, his hands still shaking, tried to get the lids off of the bowls. Sanzo got down in front of him and pulled both lids off, then pushed the spoon into Goku’s hand. “Don’t tell me you can’t feed yourself.”

“I can,” Goku mumbled, giving Sanzo a sour little look as he adjusted his grip on the spoon, then rubbed his spoon hand with his other hand to warm it up before dipping into the soup. “Sucks. I’m not t-tryin’ to annoy ya. I just wanted to make you happy.”

“Yeah, giving yourself hypothermia, that’ll put a smile on my ass.” Sanzo fixed the blanket around his shoulders and trudged towards the window, then lit up a cigarette. The draft was colder than ever. Maybe Sanzo could get Gojyo to patch the windows. He glanced over his shoulder again to see Goku shivering and trying to adjust the blanket on his shoulders, and shuffled over, tucking his cigarette deep in the crook of his fingers, to pull the blanket back up to the back of his neck. “You did a good job. I didn’t ask you to hurt yourself to impress me, though.”

Goku twisted back a little, catching and holding Sanzo’s gaze, wide-eyed. “I… I didn’t mean ta…”

“I didn’t think you did.” Sanzo sat down to face Goku, letting him look him in the eye. Despite the feverish blush in Goku’s cheeks, Sanzo could also see that some of that babyish roundness was sinking away. When had he started to grow up? “You were doing your best, but you have to recognize your limits. Take breaks, you’re not some tireless golem. You see monkeys in hot springs in this weather; you should be no exception.”

Goku chuckled a little, ducking back into the blanket. “Y-yeah, I guess. I mean, I’m rechargeable, but I need time to recharge. Just, you kicked me out, and all.”

“I didn’t say ‘don’t come back.‘” Sanzo crossed his arms, still not quite feeling like hitting Goku again. Especially not when he’d finally gotten the soup spoon steady in his hand to take a few sips. Instead, he took a slow pull on his smoldering cigarette, and exhaled the smoke slowly before saying, “Take breaks. I’ll have a pot of tea waiting for you. Don’t overdo it.”

Goku’s face brightened, and Sanzo was sure it was from more than just the broth warming his cheeks. “Thanks, Sanzo.” He grinned, showing off that his teeth weren’t chattering as much, then picked up his tea bowl and gulped most of it down. Sanzo sat back and let him eat, devoting his attention to his cigarette for a moment to finish it off. Goku wasn’t a quiet eater, but at least he wasn’t talking when his mouth was full. Sanzo found he didn’t even care about Goku’s enthusiastic enjoyment of his soup and tea. It was nice to have a little noise in the room other than his own breathing.

When Goku put his empty bowl down, Sanzo stubbed his cigarette out on the edge of the stove and extended a hand. “Let me see your fingers.” Goku cocked his head for a moment, then put his fingers in Sanzo’s palm. Sanzo spread his fingers, then squeezed the tips one by one. He could see the blood pulse in and out of the fingernail by the firelight. “Can you feel when I do that?” Goku nodded and made an affirmative “mhm,” and Sanzo nodded too. If he had frostbite, it wasn’t too bad. Sanzo massaged each finger for a moment, and Goku grunted, but held still. “When I was on my own,” he started, and though Goku cocked his head, Sanzo let the sentence hang. He remembered being all alone in the mountains, in the cold, trying to remember what he’d heard about how to keep his fingers from dying and breaking off. He remembered the deafening quiet of the snowy mountains, of being alone when he was terrified. “I got frostbite back then,” he finally muttered, if only because he hated unfinished sentences. “It sucked the goddamn root.”

“Ah, yeah, I bet!” Goku tilted his head to look a little closer at Sanzo’s fingers. “Is that why your hands are so cold?”

“Shut up.” Sanzo slapped the back of Goku’s hand. “You look like you’re going to be just fine. Your mouth is working again, anyway.”

“Yeah, well.” Goku stuck his tongue out at Sanzo. “That never stops.”

“Hmph. Going in and going out.” Sanzo could have said a lot more, but decided not to. He was just fine with that mouth working again. There was another knock at the door, and Sanzo opened it to find an acolyte carrying a bundle of firewood. Sanzo traded Goku’s empty tray for the firewood, but he heard Goku rustling around behind him. When he turned around, firewood still in hand, and saw Goku with the blankets askew and scrambling his way back under, something in hand. He shut the door tight and stormed back over, dropping the firewood and holding a hand out again. “What do you have?”

Goku grinned sheepishly and showed Sanzo the clementine in his hand. “Winter’s good for clementines, right?” He looked back down on it, chewing his lower lip as he tried to work his fingers into the peel. Sanzo remembered that Hakkai had left a bag and encouraged him to share, “Vitamin C” or whatever, and Goku must have sniffed them out. Sanzo put a log on the fire and sat again, watching as Goku failed a few times to get the peel loose, but his fingers were still fumbling. Sanzo rolled his eyes and held a hand out.

“Give it here.”

Goku’s eyes went wide, but after a moment’s hesitation, he passed the clementine to Sanzo. Sanzo easily peeled the skin off in a few clumps, then used the edge of his thumb to work one of the wedges off. He held the segment out to Goku, who nervously accepted it and tucked it into his mouth, and Sanzo broke a piece off for himself and bit into it.

A little bitter, but oh, so sweet. Goku opened his mouth to him again, and Sanzo passed him another segment, and as Goku bit it right out of his fingers with a cheeky grin, Sanzo felt heat ignite in his chest as sure as if a coal were lit there.

They shared the clementine, piece by piece, and Sanzo pitched the peel into the fire with another log. Goku was slumping over, tipping back and forth, and Sanzo touched his forehead. No fever. “Seems like you’re just fine.”

“S'good.” Goku leaned into Sanzo’s touch, then scooted so that he was sitting flush to Sanzo, closer to the stove. “Thanks for taking care of me. M'not a little kid anymore, so you shouldn’t have to.”

“Damn right.” Sanzo started for another cigarette, then thought better of it. “But I wanted to.” He could feel Goku observing him, those perceptive eyes gleaming like coins in the firelight, until his face split with a big, dumb grin and he let himself slump onto Sanzo’s shoulder.

“I’m sleepy, but I’m still cold. Can I get the bedroll after a few more minutes right here?”

“Do what you like.” Sanzo grunted a little as Goku took that as permission to settle his full weight against his shoulder, and while a very large part of him wanted to shove the little idiot off, he decided not to. After all, it was cold alone on the floor, and Goku might have felt a little shaky still but he was radiating warmth now.

Perhaps this was a sign, Sanzo thought. Perhaps something had changed under his nose, or while he’d been buried under paperwork, but somewhere, Goku had stopped being a child, less in need of scolding and correction, more in need of guidance and camaraderie. Someday, those dumpling cheeks would be gone, and Sanzo had no way of knowing what sort of Goku would greet him when that day came, what face he might wear, what he would say, how he would shift Sanzo’s world once more like the aftershocks of a long-past earthquake. However, for certain, the days were gone when Sanzo could just pretend to ignore that voice, and that was a reality Sanzo knew had been a long time coming. He’d thought the call might fade, and yet here he sat, beckoned as sure as ever, albeit for new reasons. Reasons, perhaps, that had nothing at all to do with Goku growing up, but they were reasons Sanzo couldn’t yet put into words.

There was no need for words right now. Not even when Goku started to snore. Sanzo rolled his eyes at the grating rumble in his ear, but smoothed Goku’s hair back from his diadem as he slept. He could at least admit to preferring the noise of Goku to the utter silence of a life without him.

Even without the quiet, there was peace, and they were warm together.

[the--blackdahlia]

Four Minute Warning (AKA my idea for the very last scene of Supernatural)

Title: Four Minute Warning (AKA my idea for the very last scene of Supernatural)

Summary: The title says it all.

Warnings: You might need a tissue. And there might be some spoilers for people.

Four Minute Warning (AKA, my idea for the very last scene of Supernatural)

 September, 1996

 John Winchester stood in the middle of a decrepit warehouse, staring at the archangel in front of him. Gabriel smirked at the hunter.

 “So, what do you think?” He asked. “Don’t you just love the beautiful mess you and your boys got into?”

 “How…what the hell?” John asked. “What did I just see? What did you do to me?”

 “I just showed you the future.” Gabriel said. “Honest truth, complete with all the dirty details.” John shook his head.

 “And why should I believe you? You claim to be an angel but they don’t exist. I should just shoot you right now.” John raised his shotgun towards Gabriel, intent to shoot. Gabriel just laughed.

 “That won’t hurt me and it’ll just make the boys run in here.” Gabriel said. “I know they’re sitting out there. Dean’s sitting on the hood, flipping through a skin mag, complaining about the rock offerings on the radio. Sam’s sprawled out in the backseat, reading a book that he doesn’t think you know he has. Dean stole it for him from a library a few towns back.” John stared at Gabriel. “Fine. Want more proof?” Gabriel snapped his fingers to show off his large wings. John took a step back, eyes wide.

 Mirroring his own son’s reaction to meeting the first angel he ever would.

 “But…”

 “Angels don’t exist. You already said that.” Gabriel said, his wings vanishing. “But we do. We’re everywhere. And I’m one of the few who doesn’t want what I showed you to happy.”

 “Why did you show me that?” John asked. “My death. My boys. Caleb, Jim, Bobby, Ellen…” He closed his eyes for a second. “Why?”

 “Because I’m giving you a chance.” Gabriel said. John looked at him confused.

 “A chance?” John asked. Gabriel nodded.

 “Not all the angels and demons want to see an epic showdown between Michael and Lucifer. And as you saw, it doesn’t really turn out well for Sam and Adam.” Gabriel walked around, watching John. “I showed you everything so that you can make a difference.”

 “How?” John asked. “If what I saw is right and it’s written in the stars…”

 “You can change other things though. Because, they will always end up where they did, but you can make it easier for them.” Gabriel stared John straight in the eye. “Start with letting people help you. Your friends, they don’t want you to do this alone. And look where it gets them. Jim, Caleb, and Josh? Killed by a demon. Bobby? Shot in the head. Ellen and her daughter Jo? Blown up after being attacked by hell hounds. But you can change that.”

 John looked at the door he had come in. Outside that door were his boys. Dean, his little soldier who would stop at nothing to keep his brother safe. Sam, his baby boy with a heart of gold and an attitude a football field long. He had seen them go to hell and back. He had seen them burn and bleed, love people and lose them, be punished for doing the good thing while the bad guys got away with it. They saved people at the loss of part of themselves.

 “They saved so many people without me.” John said, looking away.

 “But they died, over and over again. Their souls are so shredded and blood stained from all their sacrifices.” Gabriel pointed out. “John, if you and your boys keep down this path, they won’t just lose you, they’ll lose themselves.” John looked at him. “Sam’s going to college. No matter what. He’s going to meet Jessica Moore, no matter what. Try being supportive, maybe lead him to UCLA instead of Stanford. Or even Berkley. He’ll still meet her, but those demons that are waiting for him at Stanford won’t be there. Push Dean to go off with Cassie Robinson. Or when he meets Lisa Braden, the yoga instructor in Indiana, tell him to call her about three months after they meet so you can meet your possible grandson. Tell Bobby to quit being a pansy ass and either ask Ellen or Sheriff Mills out on a date. There’s lots you can go John. You just have to try.”

 John nodded and turned toward the door. He stepped out into the light. A little ways away, in the abandoned parking lot, he could see his boys. Sam was into Stephen King at the moment, so Dean had swiped him a couple books. As well as some adult reading for himself. He could hear Dean whining about how the station didn’t even play AC/DC and if he heard another Jefferson Starship song again, he was going on a killing spree. Dean was sitting on the hood, leaning up against the windshield. Sam was in the backseat, feet hanging out the window and hoodie as a pillow. They looked like normal teenagers, but in reality, they were a seventeen year old who would grow up with the weight of the world on his shoulders and undiagnosed anxiety, and a recent fourteen year old with demon blood forced into his veins and had been abused more than anyone he had ever met.

 And it was all his fault.

 With a sigh, John headed towards the car. Dean noticed and hopped off, slapping Sam’s shoe as he did. Sam set up and slid out of the car, standing straight not only to pop his back, but to be at attention for John. Him and Dean threw their stolen reading material in Sam’s backpack, not wanting John to say anything about non hunting reading.

 “What happened in there sir?” Dean asked. John waved him off.

 “Dead end.” He said, tossing his shotgun into the trunk.

 “What now?” Sam asked.

 “We’ve got work to do.” He said, slamming the trunk. He climbed into the car, his boys looking at each other before Dean headed towards the passenger seat and Sam took up his sanctuary in the backseat. John turned up the radio as the boys got situated.

 Carry on my wayward son

 John looked over at Dean, glimpses of the man he would become flashing through his mind. Right now, his smile was bright, he was ready to drink, bust heads, and get laid. But the man he would become, while brave, was broken and said. His smile didn’t reach his eyes near as much as it should have. Dominos would fall in line that would lead from him selling his soul to save his brother to becoming a demon. Right now was Metallica t-shirts and stolen beers. But soon enough, it would be flannel shirts stained with blood and bottles of Jack Daniels to dull the pain.

 There’ll be peace when you are done

 In the rearview mirror was Sammy. He hadn’t hit a growth spurt yet, so he was still smaller than Dean. But John knew he’d be tall, though he try to make himself small. The tainted blood in his veins wasn’t his fault, and every action he did, he did because he thought it was the right thing to do. He knew this teenager that would mope when they would move, who would read books and throw them away or hide them at Bobby’s, who would never turn away from a hurt animal, would become something out of his control because his father was such a stubborn asshole.

 Lay your weary head to rest

 Angels and demons playing both sides. A vampire who was more trustworthy than many hunters John had met. A fiery red head with a computer and a problem with authority. A prophet of the lord who should’ve been studying for finals instead of the end of the world. An old drunk with a trucker hat and rusty social skills. Children who had been tainted by the demon and now were adults. These were just some of the people who helped them when their own parents couldn’t. Their parents had failed them. The world had failed them.

 John decided right then and there, he wouldn’t let those mistakes happen.

 Don’t you cry no more.

Forever Tags: @petrovadixon @aiaranradnay @theas-bedtime-stories @af112992 @cutie1365 @crownedloki @dekahg @bandobsession98 @secretlyshycomputer @marvel-af @daddyulrich @sammat97 @dslocum89 @whatisauser @nanie5 @newtospnfandom @kenzie-110101

Supernatural Tags: @essie1876 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester

Jensen/Dean Tags: @akshi8278