#we’re still carrying on his legacy <3

[cyncerity]

me, thinking about this all day a few days ago: man, i wish i was better at drawing Pig Techno, he loved fanart like that

Techno, seeing the opportunity to endorse his brand and taking it:

mans wants to make sure i know how to draw him hsjskskshsj

i’ll keep this brief, but i’m a firm believer that people can send signs to you after they die, and no one can convince me that this wasn’t him :,)

also i think that Techno really wanted me to know it was him cause minutes after these clouds dissipated the sky and clouds turned PINK and the sun turned RED

IM NOT KIDDING-

blood for the blood god ❤️

i miss you, you crazy nerdy pig man, but i’m doing better knowing you’re having a great time somewhere messing with me and countless others i’m sure, and you’re not in pain anymore.

Technoblade never dies!!! 👑🐷💖

[illycanary]

What Aang’s Relationship With His Kids Tells Us About His Relationship With Katara

Bumi: “Oh, boo-hoo. Must've been real hard for you, flying around the world with dad, riding elephant-koi all day.”

Tenzin: “Oh, so that's what this is all about.”

Kya: “That's what it's always been about. You think you're some savior who has to carry on dad's legacy.”

Tenzin: “Who else is going to do it?”

Kya: “How about all of us?”

Bumi: “Yeah, we're Aang's kids too.”

The whole problem with this family is, Aang didn’t believe that.

Aang has a long, undeviating track record of never questioning anything he believes about the Air Nomads. Who the hell has a perfect and complete understanding of their society, government, international relations, education system, religion, morality, genetics, and reproduction at age 12? According to Aang? He does. 

The entire lynchpin of Aang’s Book 3 arc is all about how Air Nomads are pacifists and cannot ever under any circumstances harm a life. (We’re going to ignore the body count Aang’s already wracked up over the first two seasons for the sake of preserving his feelings because those were soulless NPCs or something.) 

And yet Aang never questions this…

Monk Gyatso’s bones surrounded by a pile of Fire Nation soldier bones. The picture doesn’t fit Aang’s image of Air Nomad peace and harmony, so he ignores it entirely. It NEVER comes up despite its overwhelming relevance to Aang’s internal conflict and the sorts of advice he seeks from authority figures in the third season (despite Monk Gyatso being the penultimate authority figure in Aang’s life).

Another thing Aang never questions?

There’s no such thing as a non-airbending Air Nomad. They’re just all born that spiritual. And spirituality is the golden key that unlocks bending. (Because Bryke said so.)

Despite Guru Pathik not being a bender. Despite the fact that Zhao, literal spirit murderer, is one. Despite Toph—the most un-spiritual, cynical, feet-on-the-ground-head-nowhere-near-the-clouds member of Aang’s friend group—being the most powerful bender of the lot. Despite Hama being a waterbender equal to none but Katara while completely cut off from her culture and turning her back on everything we believe about water bending’s inherent ties to community, connectedness, and love (Iroh’s words). Despite Azula mastering the god-tier lightning technique BECAUSE she’s practically dead inside and values life least of all things. Despite the fact that Princess Yue has the literal MOON SPIRIT THAT IS THE SOURCE OF ALL WATERBENDING living inside her, and yet she still somehow manages to not be a bender.

Despite the fact that Air Nomads roam all over the world, sewing their wilds oats throughout every nation, yet no airbending toddlers ever crop up in Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom preschools. 

Despite the fact that non-monogamous societies where men have multiple partners father more children and boost the population faster than in societies that favor “attached” relationships, yet the all-airbending Air Nomads still somehow have the smallest population of any ethnic group in the world. 

Despite the fact that Aang’s twin, Ty Lee, is RIGHT. THERE. with her unparalleled aura-seeing, chakra blocking spirituality and her GRAY EYES in a world where color coding is ~totally~ not a thing… *sigh* 

But nope. Air Nomad parentage = airbending child. Always.

So when Katara births a child that is… not an airbender? Not any kind of bender at all, in fact. There’s only one logical conclusion (in Aang’s mind). 

That is not Aang’s child. 

Aang never had a problem traveling with non-airbenders before. He was non-exclusionary by nature. Katara and Toph and Zuko were welcome. Sokka and Suki were welcome. The more, the merrier, in fact. Because Aang loves nothing as much as he loves an adoring audience.

Yet Bumi never travelled with Aang.

Bumi’s as old in this picture as Aang was in the first series. He had an entire decade in which he should have been the most important thing in his parents’ lives. His personality was already more or less formed (not completed, but the groundwork was laid) by the time Tenzin came along. Bumi’s inferiority issues began long before there were any airbending children around to siphon Aang’s attention for training purposes. 

Aang and Katara didn’t have another child until Bumi was on the verge of adolescence because Aang was convinced that Katara cheated. And I’m guessing it took Mr. “Let Your Anger Out, And Then Let It Go” about ten years to forgive his wife and give her the chance to get it right. (Which is at least four years longer than he gave her to forgive her mother’s murderer, in case you forgot.)

Acolyte: “Sorry, I thought you were the servants.”

Bumi: “We’re Tenzin’s brother and sister!”

Acolyte: “Avatar Aang had other children? The world is filled with more airbenders?!”

Kya: “We’re not airbenders.”

Acolyte: “Oh… I’m so sorry.”

The Air Acolytes—whose whole identity, purpose, lifestyle, and religion center around every detail of this man's life and beliefs—didn't know Aang had more than one child.

The best case scenario here is that Aang simply pretended his older children didn’t exist because he was ashamed of them and made Katara keep them shut away at all times. 

And maybe that could have worked… If Aang and Katara had ever had any privacy in their relationship. But they didn’t.

The Air Acolytes have been following Aang and Katara since the comics. They’ve been there at every step of Aang and Katara’s life together. Observing. Fangirling. Emulating. Diefying. Looking for weaknesses in the relationship because Katara was only his “first girlfriend.” 

Yet, somehow, they didn’t know Aang had three children. 

I can’t imagine a way for them not to know unless Aang actively told people, “Those aren’t my kids,” and let Katara bear the shame and stigma of having the world believe she was unfaithful. 

All because Aang couldn't entertain the idea that he was wrong about some facet of a society he never understood clearly.

[headfullofpresley]

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 4K

Summary: After doing Vogue's “Life in Looks” and reminiscing on your life with Elvis and Caroline, your late husband makes sure you and your daughter know he's still around.

Warning(s): life after losing a spouse, lil bit angsty, inaccurate timelines etc, doesn't follow timelines of other fics including Caroline, set in the late 90s bc i felt like it (just pretend life in looks is on tv or smth lol), reminiscing about a deceased spouse, flashback, bit of spiritual stuff (i still wanted him to be in this lol ☻), Elvis' death is not described here or whatsoever.

A/N: so, i usually never write about elvis not being among us anymore but ofc... i got carried away. the ending is kinda silly, but i thought it was cute. this was requested by my dear @rosepresley and even though it turned out a little different, i hope you'll still enjoy it, love! <3

masterlist

While your husband was known to the world as The King and many other titles, to you he was just Elvis.

Even though the anniversary of his death ticked on twenty years now and you had given the loss a place, there wasn’t a day that you didn’t think about him or didn’t miss him.

Caroline was only nine when her father passed and even though nobody would ever forget him, you and your now twenty nine year old daughter worked hard to keep his legacy alive.

While still living at Graceland, which felt a lot emptier without your husband there, you’d make sure events would be held on the property which fans could be a part of – the Christmas lights ceremony during the holidays, sometimes even small concerts held for charities right in your front yard. At times, fans would still linger outside the gates–mostly on the day he had passed or during his birthday week–and you could spend hours out there talking to them.

While you weren’t always happy with the lack of privacy when being out with Elvis or having fans outside your house in the dead of the night, you felt like you owed the attention to them now. You were aware that you didn’t, but these were the people that loved when you talked about the man they looked up to – probably more than anyone.

Aside from that, you were still being asked for interviews and press as well. You loved talking about Elvis and your life with him, but you were still careful as to who exactly you told those stories to – you had declined enough interviews and TV specials in the past, as did Caroline, because you were both aware how the media could twist your words and make up their own story which they knew would sell better.

When Vogue asked you for their ‘Life in Looks’ series, you were doubtful at first. This meant you’d have to talk more so about yourself rather than Elvis, but Caroline reminded you how much you loved fashion and Vogue in particular. You had a trusty subscription of the magazine, getting most of your inspiration from it when it came to your sense of style. Your daughter always assured you that it would be okay for you to talk about yourself rather than about Daddy only and you knew she was right.

Despite your entire life having revolved, and still revolving, around Elvis, you were still your own person.

He would want you to do this, especially since he made big fashion statements himself back in the day and he loved dressing you up and picking out your outfits for you.

 

 

“Just pretend we’re not here, mrs. Presley. Take all the time you need,” one of the editors smiled at you as she stood besides the camera, another girl with a Vogue lanyard around her neck placing a big white photobook in front of you. “We’ve included fifteen looks for the day but we have more pictures at hand, so if you don’t feel comfortable telling about some, we can change them up a little,”

You smiled brightly, nodding your head as you let one of the stylists fix a lock of your hair, making sure it laid perfectly over your shoulder. You knew what to do because you weren’t foreign to the concept and had seen other people doing it, but you couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

Caroline stood on the side, putting her thumbs up as she smiled brightly – ever the supportive daughter.

You chuckled softly and shot her a wink, crossing your legs under the table you were sat at as you looked at the camera. As you got the cue they were rolling, you planted a bright smile on your face, manicured nails tracing the corners of the book in front of you.

“Hi Vogue, I’m Y/N Presley and this is my Life in Looks,” you told the camera happily, although making sure not to overdo your enthusiasm.

You continued on as you were told to do, knowing that they could cut and edit the taping it was meant to be shown to the public.

You opened the book, your smile growing a little as the first picture was of you being taken out on your first date with Elvis – he wasn’t shown in the picture, because this was mostly about you and the outfit you were wearing in the picture.

“The hair,” you pointed out, laughing softly as you tapped your nail against your very extravagant hairdo. It was all high and teased, and very out there. “This was in 1960, during our first date at the fair. He rented out the place like he usually did and I remember the air being so humid, even at night, I was not having a good time with this much hair,” you chuckled, remembering how you’d complain to Elvis how you wished you would’ve kept your hair down.

He assured you you looked gorgeous, even with the sheen of sweat on your forehead. You had known Elvis since before he served in the army, so you weren’t ashamed when he pointed it out. Before he became the love of your life, he was your best friend first.

“This little dress came out of my very own closet. I don’t even think it was a brand, but I was obsessed,” you giggled, looking at the camera. Sneakily catching Caroline’s eye, a smirk tugged at your lips. “She doesn’t like me saying this, but Caroline wore this dress on the first date she went on,” you whispered and your daughter gasped soundlessly, muffling a chuckle in the palm of her hand.

You smiled happily as you turned the page, talking the viewers through a few more pictures that were taken of you at the airport and so on, reminiscing happily about the day it was taken and about what you were wearing. Even though this interview was specifically cathered to you, you still talked about Elvis during pretty much every picture but you didn’t care – and neither did the crew.

This man had been your entire life. The only man you had ever been with. How could you not talk about him?

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned the page and looked right at a wedding picture of you and Elvis.

“Oh, this was such a big day for us. Our wedding day,” you smiled lovingly at the camera before looking back down, your finger tracing Elvis’ face in the picture. The camera above your head made sure to catch it. “Charlie Hodge, who as you all might know worked for Elvis, went with me to go dress shopping because people would recognize me going into stores and then they’d find out there would be a wedding,” you laughed softly, looking at the camera as you placed your hands neatly on the table underneath the book. “I put on a little disguise and me and Charlie pretended to be the ones getting married – nobody recognized us,”

Caroline’s cheeks were aching with how big she was smiling, her hands clutched firmly against her chest. She always loved hearing you talk about your life with her father before the time she was born and she could see how much you were enjoying it.

“I picked this dress because it was very lightweight and feminine, and it matched perfectly with Elvis’ suit,” you looked at the picture again, smiling fondly at the smiling face of your husband in the picture before turning the page once more.

 

After talking about your honeymoon for a little bit, Caroline knew what was coming and she giggled softly as she watched you pout at the camera, tapping the picture of you and Elvis while holding little baby Caroline in your arms. It was taken only a few hours after you had given birth, but dressed in a pink dress and your hair teased to perfection, it looked far from a woman who had nearly broke her husband’s hand hours before.

“Look at that face, that’s a happy dad,” you grinned as you pointed out Elvis’ face, who was smiling cutely as he looked at Caroline in your arms while you sat on the bed. “He couldn’t believe he had a child and you can clearly see that on his face. I think a lot of men are like this, but he was afraid to hold her – terrified. I was never allowed to leave his side when she’d be in his arms because he was so scared that he’d drop her,” you laughed, the memories flashing before your eyes.

 

“El, you won’t hurt her, I promise you,” you laughed as you sat on your knees on the bed, baby Caroline sleeping safe and sound in your arms, Elvis propped up against the headboard of the bed.

He was in his underwear, wanting to try the method of holding his baby girl against his bare chest because he read in one of your parenting books that it’d help to steady the bond between child and father.

You had forgotten about the books long ago, because as soon as you held Caroline in your arms for the first time, motherhood came natural to you. Elvis would read them every night in bed, because he wanted to make sure to become the picture perfect father.

You didn’t give him time to back out of it, moving closer to him on your knees in a slow pace as you handed Caroline to him, making sure to put her in a supported position. He placed a gentle hand under her head, his other on her tiny back as she laid comfortably in his arms, pressed against his chest.

The room was just the right temperature but you could see that the baby who was only wearing a diaper immediately enjoyed the warmth radiating off Elvis’ chest when their skins touched. She bawled her tiny hands into fists before sprawling her little fingers, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Stay with me, honey,” he told you with a soft hint of panic on his tongue, making sure you wouldn’t leave his side as he held Caroline.

You laughed softly and nodded, sinking further in the mattress as you mimicked his position and sat next to him. You smiled down at your daughter as her eyes found Elvis’, a goofy smile spreading across her face.

“She likes this,” you told him, gently leaning your head against his upper arm, your fingertips ghosting over Caroline’s forehead. “I think the rhythm of your heart calms her down,” you pointed out in a whisper, you and Elvis watching as the little girl in his arms stared up at her father, her tiny chest heaving up and down slowly.

“She’s so pretty,” he whispered lowly, afraid the vibrations of his voice if he spoke any louder would scare his daughter. Moving his arm a little lower so she rested on just one arm, he brought his other hand to her face, feather light fingertip trailing down her nose. “Your nose,”

You chuckled softly at the way Caroline’s smile widened because of his touches, her toothless gums on full display. Elvis laughed softly, turning to press a kiss on the top of your head.

“Can you believe we made… this?”

“Hmmhmm. Because she has your mouth,” you laughed softly, kissing his shoulder. “I bet she’ll be just as stubborn as you,”

He feigned a gasp, shoulders shaking a little as he laughed – he was about to comment that she’d definitely get the stubborness from you, but as Caroline giggled right along with the two of you, all he could do was stare at her with fond eyes.

Slowly but surely, Elvis allowed you to do your own thing whenever he’d hold her. His favorite spot was always in the bed, because that way he was absolutely sure nothing could happen to her.

Nothing ever did happen to her whenever he was holding her though, whenever in or out the bed, and to you he was a damn good father.

A natural, like you – but he never believed those words no matter how many times you’d tell him.

 

Caroline watched you proudly the entire time, talking about your life with her and her father, and how your own sense of style had changed throughout the years. Although Elvis loved picking out things for you to wear, you developed a big interest in fashion and design as you got older and he loved whenever you’d wear something that you designed yourself.

Your style was similar to his – the two of you always matched perfectly, looking sophisticated but still out there, turning heads. The two of you were always comfortable around each other, but not so comfortable it would turn sloppy.

There were never days where you would be lounging around the house in pajamas for an entire day. Elvis loved to dress up on any occasion, even when not leaving the house, and so did you.

On Christmas and New Year’s Eve, you’d both go all out, putting on your best fits because that’s when you felt most confident. And to the both of you, that was one of the best feelings in the world.

There weren’t much pictures of you and Elvis with Caroline when she was young because that’s something both you and your husband wanted to keep private. You did allow the crew to put a picture of Caroline’s 6th birthday in the book in front of you, because it was one of your favorites – you actually had it framed on your bedside table.

“See, this is Care’s 6th birthday and even though it was only a child’s birthday party, we were dressed like we were going to the fanciest place in town,” you told the camera, laughing softly. Elvis was in all black except for the white collar that was popped up, velvet trench coat adorning his frame. You and Caroline wore matching dresses – white ruffled poet shirts underneath a hand beaded mid length shift dress, the pattern on it throwing you right back into the 70s because of the small flowers on it. “But that was just.. our style. And Elvis loved dressing up Caroline – he loved it when she matched with us, no matter what the occasion was,”

You shot a sneaky wink Caroline’s way, who was soundlessly gasping for a breath of air as she felt a lump forming in her throat. She loved talking about Elvis as much as you did and she was able to without breaking down because it had been so many years, but the love she felt for her father was unexplainable.

Untouchable.

Their bond had always been extremely strong and even after his passing, that never faded. If anything, it only heightened. As she grew older, she was able to understand him better and see him through different eyes and while Caroline realised her father wasn’t perfect, the amount of love she carried toward him would always be there and it would always be hers.

She smiled at you, blowing you a kiss which made your smile widen – you continued on like nothing happened as you spoke to the camera, hoping your voice wasn’t giving away the thickness you felt forming in your throat.

 

While you could honestly speak about your husband for hours, the interview had to come to an end and you were kind of glad it did. All you wanted to do now was fly back to Memphis and spend time in the home that belonged to you and your husband. You were still professional though, talking a little with the crew and thanking everyone before you left the building.

The flight from New York to Memphis was five hours, but on the private plane time flew by fast, which you were thankful for. Despite Caroline not living at Graceland anymore, she decided to stay the night because she could see how emotional today had made you.

“Do you regret doing the interview? Was it too much?” Caroline asked softly as she laid in your bed, looking at you with a soft smile when you slipped under the covers in Elvis’ spot. You hadn’t slept on your own side since the day he passed.

“No, not at all. I love Vogue and I feel honored they asked me,” you smiled as you sat against the headboard, Caroline turning on her side to plant her head in the palm of her hand. “Seeing all the pictures just brought back a lot of memories, more than I thought they would,”

Your daughter smiled, reaching out her hand to you. You slipped your hand in hers, sighing deeply.

“Good ones I hope?”

“Ofcourse. Always good ones,” you told her with a nod of your head, kissing the back of her hand before squeezing it. “Your father and I had our lows as well, but even those memories are dear to me. He really was one of a kind, Care,”

The blonde next to you crawled closer to you, sitting up against the bed as well as she released your hand and linked her arm through yours instead, putting her head on your shoulder.

“He really was,” she whispered, looking at the wedding ring that still sat prettily on your hand. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

“Knowing your father, he’s probably right here with us right now,” you laughed softly, looking at Caroline as she raised her head to look at you with wide eyes.

“What? What do you mean right now?”

The slight panic in her eyes made you laugh harder, shrugging your shoulders as you looked around the room.

“I feel him around me all the time. I’ve gotten used to the feeling of… being watched,” you grinned playfully at her and she whined at the spine-chilling tone in your voice which you used on purpose.

It was true, though. You felt his presence all the time and you had gotten used to it – even though he couldn’t answer you or talk back, you spoke to him all the time when you’d be alone in the house. Before he passed, he promised he’d always be around and you believed him.

“Nooo, you’re joking,” Caroline laughed as she threw a pillow your way, which made you giggle as you caught it and threw it back at her. “I mean I’ve dreamt about him before, but you’re totally fucking with me right now. Dad’s probably too busy stealing the show up there,” your daughter joked as she put the pillow back in place, the light on the bedside table flickering right that second.

She widened her eyes as she immediately crawled over to you, almost planting herself on your lap, which made you only laugh harder.

You were about to tell her to calm down and that she shouldn’t be scared, but a loud bang that rumbled from downstairs actually got Caroline jumping in your lap this time, her arms firmly wrapped around your neck. Now that was something you never heard before and even though you were surprised, you couldn’t stop laughing at your daughter’s actions.

“Let’s go downstairs,” you told her with a giggle as you pushed her off, getting up from the bed. Picking up your robe, you put it on as Caroline shook her head. She wanted to decline and stay in bed, but she also didn’t want to be left alone right now so as you left the room, she quickly run after you.

“Mom, what if it’s actually someone in the house? I’m not dressed to fight!” she whispered harshly as she looked at the dress shirt she stole out of Elvis’ side of your wardrobe, her hands planted firmly on your shoulders while the both of you tiptoed down the stairs.

You laughed softly, easily finding your way through the house in the dark. “No one is here, Care,” you chuckled as you flicked on some lights in the dining room, knowing that Graceland’s security system was tight and nobody was able to come in unless you allowed them to.

The both of you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first, until Caroline pointed out the slightly ajar door of one of the cabinets that stood against the wall. You recognized the photobook that laid on the floor, obviously having fallen out of the cabinet.

Or more so, as if someone deliberately put it there.

You walked over to it, picking it up and opening it on the first page which immediately brought a smile to your face. “This was taken on Christmas Eve, you were just one year old,” you told Caroline as you put the book on the table, sitting down. Caroline had seen it already, she had seen all family photo’s, but she loved looking at them.

Her fear faded as she sat down next to you, smiling as the two of you happily turned pages to look at the pictures of all the Christmasses spend together. It was like a warm blanket was wrapped around you and you knew Caroline felt the same, because she had completely forgotten about the light that flickered or the worries of someone breaking into the house.

You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple as she smiled at the picture of her and her father in the snow, along with the snowman they build together. Bright smiles and flushed cheeks – the sight of it warmed your heart.

“Your father will always be here,” you whispered to her as you softly leaned your head against hers, rubbing her arm. “He’s gonna be there with you every step along the way, no matter what you do or where you go. Don’t you ever forget it,”

She sniffed softly, nodding her head as she turned to you to hug you tightly, your hand drawing soothing circles on her back. “I know,” she sighed, laughing softly through her tears. “As long as he doesn’t make the light flicker again, I’m okay with it,”

You laughed as you pulled back a little to look at her, cupping her face to wipe her tears away with your thumbs. “He knows you’ll probably flee your house in the middle of the night so I’m sure he won’t,”

She chuckled as she nodded, rushing a hand through her hair as you let her go.

“And he’s right. If that would’ve happened to me if I was at my place, I’d probably run onto the streets screaming,”

You bet she wouldn’t, but you still laughed at her words. You were sure Elvis would let her know he was with her in other ways, but you wouldn’t mind at all if he made the lights in your room flicker or whatsoever.

It gave you comfort knowing he was still there, popping in whenever he pleased.

 

After drinking some tea and looking at some more pictures, you and Caroline decided to go back upstairs and sleep away the rush of emotions the both of you went through today.

You fluffed your pillow a little, laying down after you turned the light on your side off. Caroline sighed happily, reaching for the light on her side – once again, it flickered before she had the chance to turn it off.

“Seriously, Dad?” she deadpanned, moving closer to you again instead of turning the light off like she planned to.

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you reached over to the lamp, switching it off.

“Give the girl a break, El,” you chuckled, laying back down. Caroline was immediately pressed against your side, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

Just like when she was a little girl, you played with her hair to make her drift off into a slumber. While she could be a tough one with a big mouth, you didn’t care that she still liked to be babied a little at twenty nine years old.

She would always be your and Elvis’ little girl and that was your most beautiful achievement.

[silly-thinkings]

"Let me, go find Damian." (DCeased Story line)

Well well well reader. You've got another choice. Wait, you're totally following along right? Just in case here's (Scene 1)

“Go find Damian.” You traded the suitcase for the shot gun and turned Alfred away. The butler quickly made his way to the bat-jet

Bruce now turned ran towards Alfred but you grabbed his cape pulling him back. Your husband roared as he faced you.

Alfred made eye contact with you. You smile. A bright beautiful smile before running deeper into the cave.

You ran towards one of the confinement rooms and turn around “I love you. I love you so much Bruce.”

You hoped he Heard you. His arm reaching out as he ran towards you. You ducked as he swiped a hand and promptly flipped him into a bullet proof room. With the press of a button you seal the door. Bruce banged on the glass trying to get to you and you felt your tears bubble up again. “I’ll find a cure. Damian will live. He will carry your legacy.”

The space around you shook. Booms could be heard from the city. Maybe it’s being bombed. But you didn’t care. After one last look at your husband you left him trapped there. You ran back to the computer shutting everything down. “Need to find my little ones.” You make your way to one of the moter bikes “computer. Initiate lock down.”

“Yes miss Y/n”

You put your helmet on and you were off.

***

The city burned, but there were still survivors. With your katana you cut down some of the dead as you led a group of about three dozen into the forest.

You were about to head into the city to find more survivors but the Batmobile burst through a crowd of dead. The jokers body strapped to the front of the car. Your confusion quickly turned into joy as your two children, Jason and Cassandra hopped out the vehicle. Gordon was with them but you held onto your kids for dear life. “Your ok. Thank the gods you’re ok. I thought I lost…” you didn’t think you had any more tears to shed. And yet here you were, what’s left of the family hugging each other. You feel Cassandra press her forehead against your neck. Her hand holding onto your cloths tightly. While Jason rested his chin on top of your head. “You’re such a bad ass Ma.” Since you’re alone he realized what’s happened to the rest of the family. He’s no idiot.

You pull away to get a good look at them. You then looked to Gordon “has Barbara…”

Gordon closed his eyes with slight nod.

“Sheesh I thought I got rid of my ex. Look! He’s following me” Harley shouted from the crowd of survivors.

You turn to see Harley and ivy waiting for you to wrap things up.

“Ma? What’s with them.”

You smile “they’re friendly. Apparently the plants like me. Ivy said it was because of the way I treated my garden back at… home.”

Cassandra held your hand. You look to her to see a warm smile. “They’ve been helping me find survivors, we’re going to build a sanctuary. Come.”

You take Jason’s hand “let’s go James. I have no intention of loosing anymore family.”

//Left behind ending//

Congratz! you got 2/3 endings :3 Hope you enjoyed the story. Trying something different and I'm not thinking much of it. This story was a spur of the moment kind of thing XD. Plz leave a a comment and lmk if the links work XD. Appreciate you! and thank you for reading.

[lunaredgrave]

Legacy of Cressidia Part 7 - A Choice

Read previous chapters first:

Part 1 - A Day of Normalcy

Part 2 - Whispers of the Past

Part 3 - The Exile

Part 4 - The Past Unfolds

Part 5 - Request

Part 6 - Dilemma

Summary: Tav rejects her aunts request and has made her choice. But something interesting happens...

Themes and Warnings: Fluff, angst, romance, adventure, mentions of abuse, trauma and loss

Tags: @divineknightmare

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

“I… I don't understand.” Ellira said. Her face went through every emotion that included sadness and disappointment. “Why? After all of this, you just turn your back? Just like that?” Ellira asked.

“I’m sorry.” you said while slightly bowing. “Thing is, I want to leave this far behind me. I may have started my life as a Cressidia, but now I’m so much more.” You slightly glanced at Astarion who was sitting next to you. “I don’t care what Rianna does. Don’t even start with the ‘this is your right! thing. Nothing good comes out of tales like these. Believe me, I’ve written a lot of those.”

Silence took over while everyone sat with sorrowful faces. Ellira started packing her stuff up, without saying a word or looking at you. 

“Auntie?” you asked.

Ellira sighed, still without looking at you she started rummaging through her things.

“I guess I saw Isidora in you a bit too much. But it seems like you're more like my brother.” she said. 

You didn’t know what to make of what she said. But it was obvious that she was mad at you. She finally lifted her head while pulling a crystal out of her backpack. The crystal had a red hue and a subtle glow to it, blinking ever so gently.

“I won’t force you. But still, take this.” she handed the crystal to you. “I always wanted to give this to you. I just didn’t think it would be under these circumstances.” she said seriously.

You took the crystal but as soon as you touched it, you didn’t expect it to be so warm. A strange feeling coursed through you as you looked at the crystal. A magical sensation caressed through your palm as you held it. It was obvious that this thing was more than a simple, pretty crystal. Ellira finally got up and gave you a smile.

“Well kitten, even if we’re not moving forward, I’m glad to have seen you once again. And I’m proud of what you’ve become.” she opened her arms, inviting you for a hug.

You got up and answered her invitation. After giving a gentle kiss on your forehead, Ellira smiled and touched your shoulder, “Good luck, kitten.”

“You too, auntie.” you said in turn.

She started heading towards the door while carrying her backpack. When she reached the door, she put her hood back up, and turned to look at you one last time. She bowed her head and left the tavern.

As you watched her leave, you felt your chest tighten. You were happy with the choice you made. Then why in the hells did you feel so… Guilty?

You kept looking at the door, even if Ellira was long gone. Silence kept lingering, when finally Astarion wrapped your waist with his arm.

“Hmm, I suppose it’s gotten a bit late to continue our journey, hasn’t it? Such a shame.” he said. He could probably read the sadness in your face. He could always read you like an open book, one of the reasons why it was so easy for him to manipulate you when you first met. Even if he did this for his own survival back in the day, now that he was more open with his feelings, he would also try to read your feelings more often.

This half-joking was his way to distract you.

You nodded and played along, “I suppose we need to send a raven to the Ravengards.”

Astarion immediately removed his hand from your waist, giving you a very unimpressed look. “Wait-”

You added, “Let’s find a post house before it gets crow-ded.” with a forced mischievous smile. 

Astarion rolled his eyes, “This is what I get for being in a relationship with a bard. Stupid puns.”

You gave him a kiss on the cheek and his deadpan face suddenly changed into a smiling one. “Let’s go and be done with it. I’d like to investigate this thing when we return.” You shook the crystal.

You both left the tavern to search for a Post House or a single courier. Since it was getting late, finding an open post house was going to be a challenge. Thankfully you found one near the tavern, to your luck, still open.

You grabbed a pen and parchment immediately when you entered.

“Dear Wyll and Karlach,” you wrote on the parchment and stopped. It was about closing time, and the human behind the counter was waiting impatiently for you to write your letter and be done with his shift already.

But you had no idea what to write. You never even talked about yourself in the past. Now to tell them that your grandmother was after Wyll and his father was kind of weird to write about. You fidgeted with the quills' feathers here and there, thinking what you should write.

Eventually, you decided to just mention that they planned an assassination on them keeping the family details to yourself. As you finished writing, you kept hearing the human groaning in the back, so you hurried up, which made your handwriting even worse. You eventually closed your letter and quickly sealed it with wax. 

You put your letter and the gold on the counter and the human seemed relieved to finally go home.

“What did you write?” Astarion asked curiously as you both left the Post House and walked back to the tavern.

“I said to watch out for any Cressidia crest bearing soldiers. Drew how it looks like, though I think Wyll probably already knows it. Told them about their whole plan and noted that I can’t explain it any further.” you said. 

“So you’re going to keep the rest yourself.” Astarion asked, although his voice sounded a bit worried.

You sighed while shaking your head, “I wish to leave it behind me, if it's all the same to you.”

Astarion suddenly walked a bit faster then stopped in front of you, preventing you from walking any further. He held both of your shoulders and squeezed them.

“Darling- Tav. Listen… I know I said the choice is yours and I'll do whatever you want. But, I'd like to…. Give you some advice, if it's alright.”

“What is it?” you asked while raising a brow.

“Sometimes… You have to turn back and face the tiger that's been chasing you. If this ever comes back to affect you in any other way, don't be afraid to face it, my love. I know that better than anyone.”

You smiled. “Well, if it comes to that, I won't have much choice, will I?”

“You might have a choice.” Astarion removed his hands from your shoulders, “But still, choose to go after it.” he said while forming a fist with his right hand. Then he shook his head thoughtfully. “Running and hiding in fear isn't really worth it, my dear. Trust me.”

You agreed with a silent gesture and he gave you a gentle smile.

You kept walking towards the tavern quietly.

When you finally reached the tavern, Astarion stood back to buy a bottle of wine and rent the room for another day while you went straight back to your room.

You immediately sat down and took the crystal out. The crystal glowed red with your touch, still feeling warm on your palm. You might have been raised as a bard, but your mothers inner magic still flowed through you. You weren't as powerful as her, surely, but your sense in arcana was still very strong. Your talents as a sorcerer guided your musical talent for the longest time.

You raised the crystal near your face to investigate it. You remembered seeing something similar to this in the Underdark many years ago: A memory shard. But unlike that memory shard, this didn't seem to keep a memory. This looked like it was holding something different within…

You summoned the magic in you and whispered, “Revelare.”

The crystal trembled in turn. Suddenly you felt the crystal getting hotter in your hand. So hot that you threw the crystal as a reflex. The crystal kept glowing and trembling brightly until a silhouette of a woman slowly became visible through the magical flames.

A magical projection eventually appeared in front of you.

Her echo-y voice started to fill the room.

“Ellira. How may I help you, my dear friend?” 

This was a voice you haven't heard for 26 years. It felt uncanney, scary, dreamlike…

Looking at the woman felt like looking in a mirror. You looked so similar, but she was way prettier than you could ever be.

You felt your knees give away as you looked at the projection.

“No way…” you whispered.

The projection suddenly looked at you angrily.

“Wait… You're not Ellira! Who am I speaking to?!” The magical projection yelled.

You started to breathe faster as you kept staring at the projection.

“M-mother?”

[qedart]

For the Time Travel AU: life Pete and Tom ever make it to the skies, do they get new callsigns or will they somehow still end up at Maverick and Iceman respectively?

(I love your artwork btw, including the Mando stuff.)

First, thank you so much. I’m so glad that you’re liking the series and my other stuff :D

Now, regarding the callsigns - it’s so funny that you ask because this idea was bouncing around my head just the other day haha.

Full disclosure, I’ve got no idea at the moment. I’m not even sure if we’ll be following the kiddo’s that far down the line (but then again, this series started as a joke about Ice making a dig at Mav and being reminded of ‘the chomp’ and now we’re 14 parts in, so who knows?). 

That said, I definitely don’t think they’ll end up with Maverick and Iceman. By the time they’d be getting call-signs Mav and Ice are either still in the Navy or fairly recently retired, so they still sort of own that legacy. 

Now, for what they could end up with, I mean, the options are endless. 

Thing 1 and Thing 2 or Twiddledee and Twiddledum for the lols variation. 

For serious options:

I thought maybe Icarus could work for Pete. Probably intended as a warning or in a sorta mean-spirited ‘you’ll burn in some day’ way, but I feel Pete would take it as a challenge and run with it (‘So you’re recognising that I’m gonna fly higher than all of you? Good to get that out of the way early.’)

Tom I’m sort of torn between Angel and Duke.

Angel as a carry on from Ice’s ‘Guardian Angel’ status, because that’s one of those things that’s just consistent with those two.

Duke, doesn’t tie in quite as nicely, so follow me here haha. I was thinking Prince initially, as a kind of tie in to the COMPACFLT being perceived as his father/uncle/family, so he’s almost the heir to that legacy, but that just wasn’t really clicking. Duke however has the same connotations, while also being a bit of a nod/dig at Mav (depending on who’s involved in them getting these callsigns) and Tom’s relation to him as well (and also, perhaps, as a warning as well, because the kid is picking up some Maverick tendencies already. 2 or 3 years down the line who knows how much that influence has taken effect lol). Personally I think Tom would take it on with a huge amount of pride, even if it’s intended maliciously (especially if it was intended maliciously). Duke Mitchell is essentially family at that point. His reputation was dragged through the mud for doing the right thing at the wrong time/place. Both Mav and Pete suffered terribly because of that, and now people were still trying to use his name to shame or ridicule or warn people off. To hell with them. He’ll take that name, he’ll wear it like a badge of honour, and he’ll force people to respect it. 

Sooooo - long rambling response, sorry. To put it simply, I’ve got lots of thoughts and feelings but nothing’s concrete. Thanks for asking though!!! It was definitely good to get it all down into words. 

[zablife]

White Picket Chemtrails (Part 4)

Jack Nelson x OC Louise (Jack’s mistress) x OC Elizabeth (Jack’s wife)

Summary: Jack Nelson is married to the perfect society wife with two sons to carry on his legacy, but when Jack’s young mistress falls pregnant he can’t let her go. Who will he choose?

Author’s Note: Thanks to the lovely and talented @retromafia for helping me brainstorm plot for this last part! 

Warnings: language, drinking, mention of assault, mention of death

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

When Betty came home, she wasn’t ready to forgive and forget so easily. She returned to their bed, but Jack slept in the guest room. He laid awake at night thinking about every moment of their relationship. It was his way of reconciling the past and the present. It also helped him to remember a time when he had her love. 

One evening as it turned cold out, he tossed and turned in the small bed, thinking of an evening fifteen years earlier when he and Betty were dating. They were both living in a squalid neighborhood back then, two teenagers trying to forge a better life for themselves. Jack hadn’t confessed all the things he did for the Kelly family in the beginning, wanting to protect Elizabeth’s innocence.

Although her life had been difficult, growing up without a father and three brothers who treated her badly, she was still a sweet, Catholic girl at heart. How could he expect her to understand the way he intended to make enough money to support the life she dreamed of? So he lied about being in a gang and told her he was an errand boy. It wasn’t too far from the truth. Besides, he didn’t want her to worry.

One winter evening as he walked her home from the pictures, they were attacked by two men from a rival gang. Jack had done his best to protect Elizabeth. He clearly remembered shouting at her to run as he fended off the attack. When he had defended himself against the largest man, leaving him unconscious on the ground, he turned to find Betty pushed against a wall. His heart dropped watching the man paw beneath her skirt and he charged for him head on.

As he reached them, the man stumbled backwards clutching his gut and Jack noticed the glint of a blade sticking from the man’s stomach as he fell onto the sidewalk. His gaze turned from the red blood spilling over the snow back to Elizabeth who was calmly straightening her clothes. “Betty, sweetheart, are you alright?” he asked with worry, checking her over for signs of injury.

She wiped a drip of blood from the corner of her mouth and nodded, unfazed by the event. He’d never forgotten what she told him next, “If we’re going to be together, Jack, let’s get one thing straight. I can stand anything except being lied to. Lies are dangerous, do you understand?” 

He knew then that she was much more clever than he gave her credit for and better under pressure than some of the men he worked with. She was a woman he could trust with everything about his business and call his partner. When they married a year later, she was his strongest ally and fiercest protector. He couldn’t remember exactly when he had stopped being hers.

—————————————————————

The next night was Mr. Kelly’s sixtieth birthday celebration and everyone was gathering at a fancy hotel to fete him. Elizabeth wasn’t thrilled about putting on a happy face, but she knew it had to be done. In honor of the occasion, she donned an elegant velvet dress and placed her wedding rings back on her finger, ready to impress the boss.

However, when they arrived, Mr. Kelly was nowhere to be found. There were whispers among a few of the guests that he had been detained by important business, but no one seemed to know what that might be. Elizabeth sipped champagne and mingled with the other wives, far from her husband’s reach, while Jack began discussing work with Mr. Kelly’s son, Neil.

Elizabeth was deep in conversation when she noticed a change in Jack’s body language, imperceptible to others, but unnerving to her. She excused herself to see what was happening across the room, knowing it was something important.

As she came closer she heard Neil say, “You had to have known, Nelson. Doyle and that floozy he married were stealing from us and trading our secrets. She's lucky we let her run and that rat Doyle deserved a traitor’s death,” he spat. 

Jack looked stunned, although Elizabeth still didn’t understand why he would care about the man, until she heard Jack say, “But the baby? Jesus, Neil, why did your father order that?” 

Elizabeth’s heart stopped when she heard the words. Her mind was racing as she came to stand beside her husband. “Elizabeth, good evening,” Neil greeted her as though nothing was wrong. 

“Hello, Neil,” Elizabeth said hesitantly, watching Jack’s face contort with a mixture of anguish and rage. 

“Why the fuck would we kill a kid?” Jack said suddenly and a bit too loudly for the party going on around them. Elizabeth gulped turning to face her husband with wide eyes. 

“Jack, it’s done,” Neil said furrowing his brow and shaking his head as though he didn’t understand the problem. “Let’s not spoil the evening,” he advised, turning on his heel. Sensing an impending meltdown, Elizabeth grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him from the ballroom to an empty hallway. 

Jack looked at Elizabeth forlornly as tears sprung to his eyes, “They kidnapped the baby and she was too weak to survive it. God, she was tiny and she had no one to protect her…” he trailed off, disconnecting from reality.

Taking his face in her gloved hands Elizabeth brought Jack's gaze back to her and in a firm voice she said, “Jack, stop it! You’re not thinking clearly. You look like a fool mourning someone else’s child. If Mr. Kelly suspects she was yours, he’ll think you were working with Sean. We’ll be next on his list.” 

Pulling away from him, she straightened her dress and glanced down the corridor nervously. “We have to leave. You’re in no state for anymore questions tonight.” She took his arm and guided him toward the exit, hailing their chauffeur. 

————————————————————-

Elizabeth watched Jack stumble from the car and push past her to pour himself a drink at the bar. Tossing it back in one gulp, he stared at the wall as he spoke. “They took my daughter to teach that son of a bitch a lesson. If he had done what he was supposed to, none of this would have happened and she’d still be alive. Fucking bastard,” he yelled throwing his glass into the fireplace. Elizabeth stood by the door as Jack upended the entire drink cart, not having witnessed his temper reach this kind of fever pitch since their youth. 

She knew it was the shock of his grief and she let it consume him, feeling nothing in that moment except a faint sense of relief. If she had been truly honest with herself in that moment, she would have admitted Jack and Louise had it coming. Perhaps God had seen fit to punish them for their affair, although that was no longer her concern. 

As the fire in Jack’s eyes died away, he admitted through ragged breaths, “I never said it out loud that I was her father. Never even held her,” he said feeling the guilt settle deep within his chest. 

Elizabeth's voice rose from the corner of the room. “But don’t you see, Jack? None of your regrets matter now because you were never going to be a father to that girl,” she said, facing him to look deeply into his eyes. “It’s an awful thing for a baby to die, but your boys are alive and they need you here,” she implored him.

Then Jack did something Elizabeth would never have expected. He dropped to the floor suddenly and crawled to her where she stood on hands and knees. He grasped at her dress and pulled her to him, burying his head in her stomach. He began to sob softy at the thought of her allowing him to remain in their home. Elizabeth stroked his hair and hushed him saying, “I know it was a brutal way to learn that your actions have consequences, but I can’t find it in my heart to add my condemnation upon you.”

It was the warmth returning to her voice that brought Jack around, realizing there might be mercy for him after all. He could be redeemed if he repented now.

“I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused and all the lies I’ve told, Elizabeth. Can you ever forgive me? Will you help me?” he asked sincerely and for the first time in a long while, she recognized the truth in his words.

———————————————————————

One year later…

“Is there anything else I can get you, Mr. Nelson?” Jack’s secretary asked from the doorway. 

“No, thank you, Mrs. Perkins,” he said standing to grab his jacket from the chair. “I’m going to spend some time with my children,” Jack said. She nodded, a small smile spreading over her face as she watched him rush out the door. She hadn’t worked for him long, but she could tell he was a devoted family man. It made her heart swell to see a man who valued his wife and children.

When Jack arrived home, he found the boys playing catch in the yard. “Come play with us, dad,” Henry called out.

“Sure thing, kiddo, let me say hello to your mother first,” Jack said with a wide grin. 

Pushing open the front door, he spotted Elizabeth in the living room, humming quietly and tapping her foot in the ornately carved rocking chair. When she saw Jack, she ceased her movement and held a finger to her lips. Tip toeing to her side, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head as he peered over her to watch the sleeping baby in her arms. He extended a finger to caress his child’s chubby cheek and watched her tiny mouth open in a yawn as she settled back into her mother. He still looked at her with awe, wondering how he was lucky enough to have a second chance with Elizabeth and become a father again. He could only assume it was an answered prayer and he didn’t take that lightly.

“Can I take Joanie?” he whispered. Elizabeth nodded, a tired smile gracing her features. Giving birth to Joan despite her health issues had been difficult for Elizabeth, but when she discovered she was pregnant unexpectedly, she knew instantly it was a sign. Her life with Jack had never been an easy path, but then again, she never expected it to be. 

As Jack tucked the two month old into his arms and swaddled the blanket around her tightly, Elizabeth ran a hand along his forearm. Watching him with their daughter gave her a sense of pride she once worried might never be restored to their marriage. Where there was once a decaying façade of a pristine upper class lifestyle now stood a reclaimed dynasty no one could take from them.

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

Tag list: @retromafia, @daddyjack-nelson, @shelbydelrey, @theshelbyslimited, @kittycatcait219, @peakyswritings, @evita-shelby, @tommydoesntpayforsuits, @peakyrogers, @wandawiccan60, @easilyobessedbutflighty, @severewobblerlightdragon, @kpopgirlbtssvt,@lovemissyhoneybee, @renderedspeechless, @slytherisstuff, @watercolorskyy, @cillmequick, @l1-l4, @jackiekae

[willyismybicycle]

Title: heavy from the hurt inside my veins [3,022words] (Part 3 of the earth, the sky, the sea) Rating: Mature Pairing: Auston Matthews/William Nylander, past William Nylander/Kyle Dubas Tags: Established Relationship (Auston and Willy), Hurt/Comfort, Finding Closure, Ex-Boyfriends, light angst, Auston Matthews is a Good Boyfriend, fluff, brief mention of a past daddy kink,

Summary: November 25, 2023: They play Pittsburgh. Willy is ready to face his past and get some closure, or so he thinks.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d agree to meet me,” Kyle says quietly, like he wasn’t the one that started pushing Will away first. He wants to say neither did I, but he bites back the butter reply.

Read below or here on AO3.

“Will.”

Just a simple word — just one syllable, but it runs through Will’s entire body like a goddamn tapeworm.

“Hey,” he says, as nonchalant as possible. The restaurant, small and cozy already, feels stifling now. He sits down at the table, across from Kyle fucking Dubas. The man he’s spent at least two years trying to forget.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d agree to meet me,” Kyle says quietly, like he wasn’t the one that started pushing Will away first.

He wants to say “neither did I”, but he bites back the bitter reply. It’s not Kyle’s fault, not really, and Will knows that, it just doesn’t make it any less shitty.

“You look good,” Kyle continues, and Will almost loses it right there. Kyle’s said that to him so many times, in so many ways.

You look good. As in: you had a great start with MoDo, we want you on the Marlies.

You look good. As in: you’re playing even better than expected, you’re the star of the Marlies, Willy. We were at the bottom of the standings before you joined and now we’re in the Calder Cup Playoffs.

You look good. As in: you’re good enough to be on the Leafs, now, Willy. Look at that, you helped Auston Matthews set an NHL record for most goals scored in a rookie’s debut.

Kyle had always thought he looked good, at least as a player. One of the first people to fully, truly, undeniable and unwaveringly believe in him. That was before it became more.

You look good. As in: I can’t, Will, we can’t do this, we shouldn’t — but I can’t say no to you.

You look good. As in: You’re so beautiful when you come for me.

“Thanks,” Will eventually bites out. Then he clears his throat and forces the next words out. “You too.”

Kyle gives him that half-smile, the one that’s a little pained, a little forced, a little self-deprecating. He probably thinks Will is just saying it, but it’s really not a lie. Kyle’s one of the most handsome men Willy’s ever seen, always put together. The one the media thinks is “cute” because they don’t know how much Kyle has to hide. They don’t know all of Kyle’s secrets like Will does. Or at least, used to.

“You played really well tonight,” Kyle tells him softly. Deflecting. Putting the attention back on Will, probably in hopes of distracting him just long enough.

“I really didn’t,” he responds flatly, fiddling with his spoon, twirling it around and around, spinning just like his mind is.

“Don’t do that,” Kyle interjects quickly. He always used to do that. The first to tell Will that he had a good game, that he was great on the ice, that everything would be alright.

Except Will can’t, and has never been able to, just “not do that”. The name he carries, the legacy, he has to be better. Always.

“You’re just coming back from a big trip,” Kyle reasons — because that’s just who he is. He’ll find a way to logically explain anything, even if there simply isn’t anything to explain.

Still, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy it. It’s nice to feel like, maybe, everything wasn’t all his fault, all the time.

“Yeah,” he responds lamely. It’s stilted and awkward and he knows that but he can’t stop himself. The wall between him and Kyle is just far too high and far too thick, and he thinks there just may not be anything strong enough to tear it down.

Kyle’s tone changes. “You looked great. Like you had a good time. Family good?”

That conversation, at least, is less stilted. He tries not to dwell on the fact Kyle said he looked good because otherwise he’d have a public meltdown. Instead, he answers the question, talks about how everyone’s doing. He has enough friends and family that he can talk for a while without thinking.

Kyle was always good at listening. He’s asking the right questions about Will’s siblings, telling him that Alex did well tonight too, which Will appreciates. If he’s going to lose to anyone, it might as well be to his brother.

“You don’t have to stay,” Kyle says, trying to hide the sigh. Giving Will an out.

He almost hates how considerate that is. But no, he’s not going to do that to Kyle, despite the mixed feelings. “I know,” he says, making a conscious effort to open his body language up. Somehow, he had felt more comfortable in a tank top in front of a giant audience than right now, with only Kyle’s eyes on him.

“But you asked me here for a reason, didn’t you?”

“I just wanted to see you. Ask you how things have been. How… he’s been.”

Will inhales deeply at that and a part of him wants to tell Kyle to fuck off, while the other part wants to cry a little bit.

“Auston, I mean,” Kyle clarifies, as if that’s what Will was thinking about.

“He’s fine,” Will answers automatically. “We’re fine.” He’d never told Kyle who it was that picked up all the pieces of his heart after Kyle broke things off but he supposes it’s pretty obvious. Surely, Kyle knows the face he makes when he feels some type of way about someone — Kyle’s seen it before, after all. When Will used to look at him like that.

“I’m happy for you.”

At that, Willy looks up, brain trying to come up with something petty to snap back with. But the thing is, he doesn’t see a lie in Kyle’s eyes. All he sees are the warm, welcoming eyes that remind him of milk chocolate and liquid amber. It’s too honest, and it shouldn’t make his stomach do somersaults but it is, it is, it is.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Kyle asks.

He shouldn’t.

“Yeah.”

✩

As soon as Will steps inside, he’s hit with everything he thought he was no longer missing.

The way Kyle’s shoe rack is always organized, by style, then colour. There’s not a single shoelace out of place.

The smell of — pine, or cedar, or some fancy thing that the bath and body place smells like.

The way Kyle takes his coat and hangs it up before guiding him inside, a gentle hand on his back. It feels like it’s searing a mark onto him, a brand, a stamp, a sign for Auston to see that says he’s still mine.

Will shakes the thought away. That’s ridiculous. It’s his own guilt for even being here in the first place, but he’s not here for that. He’s not here to do anything except show Kyle that he’s fine. He’s fine without Kyle.

“Gorgeous like this, Willy. Beautiful.” “I want — please” “Yeah, I know you do, baby, I know what you want. Just let me watch you a bit longer, sweetheart. Sit still, just like that. Okay?” “… Okay.” “That’s my good boy. You’ve always been so good for me, haven’t you? You like being rewarded.” “Yes, daddy.”

“Drink?”

The memory fades as he focuses back on Kyle — the here and now version of Kyle.

He wants to say yes, because maybe then not every single muscle in his body would be so tense but he also doesn’t trust himself to stay on track if he isn’t stone cold sober. He shakes his head and takes a seat on the couch, which is perfectly symmetrical, stupidly pristine, white throw cushions on either end and a deep blue blanket folded over the back of it. It looks so soft, he wants to run his fingers through it, but he keeps them clasped in his lap, determined to touch nothing and no one.

It reminds him of the Maple Leafs colours. He wonders if it reminds Kyle too. Of what he left behind. He wonders if it reminds Kyle of him.

“If you want it,” Kyle says, handing Will a cup of tea. It’s made the way he likes. Of course it is.

“Thanks,” he says. He’s mostly grateful that his hands have something to do. Something to hold that isn’t Kyle’s hand.

“Look, I know I… I owe you an explanation.”

“You really don’t,” Will says, even though he really wants to hear it. “It’s hockey, right? That’s how it goes.”

That’s what he’s had to tell himself for ages. It’s just business. There was nothing personal when Kyle traded Kappy, even if Kyle knew Kasperi was his best friend, his roommate, his confidant. Hell, maybe Kyle just didn’t like the thought of Will living with someone else, who knows.

He’d spent a long time in Kyle’s arms after that, which felt like a betrayal to Kappy, and yet he couldn’t stay away. He craved the comfort, too dependent on someone holding him and telling him it’d be okay.

“Yes,” Kyle agrees. “It is just hockey, but it doesn’t mean it felt good for me to leave like that. It wasn’t amicable, I just didn’t want to burden you with it.”

Will nods, even though it sounds like more corporate bullshit. He couldn’t do what Kyle does. The secrets, the poker face, the way he needs to separate his feelings from the job.

“It wouldn't have been a burden,” Will offers. He’s not sure if that’s a lie or not, but surely it was better than Kyle leaving without a word, right?

“That’s kind of you to say, but we both know that isn’t true.”

He fucking hates when Kyle is so right, but he doesn’t have anything to dispute it. He takes a sip of the tea and sets it down, tucking his legs up and wrapping his arms around them as if to protect himself even though the damage is already done.

“And you had Auston,” Kyle continues. “I knew you’d be alright.”

That’s when he finally starts to tear up. “No you didn’t. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have known because I didn’t even know.”

“I did know, b— I knew you, Willy. I knew.”

He doesn’t know why it hurts, to hear Kyle almost call him baby again. He doesn’t know if it would hurt any less if Kyle finished that thought. He doesn’t know how Kyle ended up on his side of the sofa, hand rubbing up and down Will’s back like he’s soothing a child.

That’s what he feels like. That’s what he is.

“It’s okay,” Kyle coos. “I’m sorry, Willy. I really am sorry.”

He lets the first tear fall, watches it make a dark spot on Kyle’s pants and then he just can’t stop.

“I hate you,” he says, not even meaning it.

“You have every right to,” Kyle responds, soft and gentle, just like how he is with everything else. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed or —”

“You were!” Willy protests, curling himself into and around Kyle, swallowing up the intoxicating smell of Kyle’s cologne, letting himself be enveloped at the same time.

“I wasn’t,” Kyle says after a moment, once Will’s stopped shaking from holding it all in — or letting it all out, he’s not sure what it is anymore. “I was good to you, you were good to me, and we were happy. But that doesn’t mean I was what you needed. Or deserved.”

Fucking — this conversation again. The conversation they’ve had a million times.

“I don’t care about that stuff, I just need you.” “You’re twenty, Will. You might think it’s okay now, but it won’t be, later.” “I don’t need it, the whole — going to restaurants and — all that Instagram stuff. Who cares? They don’t have to know who I’m seeing. Nobody has to know.” “Baby, that’s the problem. It’s not that nobody has to know. It’s that nobody can know. You understand? Nobody. The entire thing — you and me — it’ll all just be a big secret.” “I can do it! I promise.” “Willy, baby, you need more than this — you deserve to be happy. Free. One day, you’ll want more.” “Why can’t I have both? I can do it, whatever it is. I can do it all, have it all. You can too, I just know it.” “You've never heard the story of Icarus.”

He doesn’t know what the hell he’s supposed to see, even to this day.

“It makes no difference, I can’t be open about Auston either,” he says, almost petulantly. He’s loosened his hold on Kyle, but he lets himself stay where it’s warm and cozy.

“You can,” Kyle says, petting his hair. “If you wanted to. The world would be delighted for you two.”

Will scoffs a bit into Kyle’s shoulder. They both know that’s not going to happen. “Yeah? How do you think that’s going to go? Hey, we banned pride tape, but not to worry, we definitely fully support two dudes making out on the ice?”

Kyle stays silent. Will hates how grown up Kyle is sometimes. He’s unshakeable, always has been. “Not everything in life is about hockey,” he says after a moment.

Will tears back this time, ignoring the way the entire front of his body grows cold without Kyle there. “That’s amazing, coming from you. You’re the one that made hockey more important, remember?”

“We can’t — I can’t keep doing this, Willy.” “He didn’t see anything! We weren’t even that close, and — and it was just — it could’ve just been a talk about my contract!” “Will, please, I need you to understand, as much as we want this, I can’t. I’d lose everything. All of it. I can’t.” You’d still have me, Will had almost said. But he didn’t want to hear Kyle say that it wasn’t enough so he said nothing.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Kyle admits quietly. “Maybe there is more, but I — I couldn’t, at that time.”

There it is. It’s all Will had wanted to hear, to have Kyle say he was sorry, he was wrong, he fucked up with Will all those years ago.

But now that he has it, it doesn’t fix the jagged cracks of his heart, it doesn’t make him feel any better, it doesn’t make him feel like he won.

It makes him feel like it was a mistake coming here.

“I have to go,” he declares, standing abruptly.

“Will —”

“I have to go,” he repeats, heading for the door to shove his feet into his runners, messily.

“Take a second,” Kyle instructs him. “I’ll drive you.”

“I — it’s fine,” Will says, shaking his head. “Really, I am. Tonight was — yeah, I needed that.”

Kyle must sense something, because he doesn’t stop Will, just looks on with that concerned look of his.

“Bye Kyle.” He hopes it sounds friendly enough. feeling a rush of emotion — of an epiphany of sorts. “See you, uh, in a month, I guess?”

Kyle nods. “Yeah. The 16th.”

“The 16th,” he echoes, a part of him satisfied that Kyle, too, had like, circled it on his calendar or something. He opens the door.

“Take care of yourself,” Kyle says, with a genuine smile. “I’m really happy for you.”

Willy bites his lip as he steps out. “Thanks.”

There isn’t anything left to say.

As soon as he’s on the street he texts Auston hoping Auston is still awake. Be there in 10.

All he gets back are four words, but it settles the brewing storm in the pit of his stomach.

Okay, waiting for you

✩

The moment he enters the hotel room, Auston calls out for him and it feels like a beacon. Auston’s shoes are kicked off by the door.

He walks towards Auston's voice and he has no idea what his face says or looks like, but Auston doesn’t say anything or ask where he’s been.

Auston’s just leaning against the headboard, watching highlights from the Boston game in a loose t-shirt, opening his arms up for Will. He probably expected Will to sit down and snuggle into his side, but it’s just not enough. Right now.

Will crawls into the bed, into Auston’s lap, fully burying his face in Auston’s neck while the highlight reels play quietly behind him.

Where Kyle smells like the forest, like a weekend camping trip in the rain, Auston smells like the beach, a summer vacation. The scent of Irish Spring soap fills Will’s nostrils, along with the light minty cucumber of his deodorant that makes him think of mojitos.

“Everything okay?” Auston asks quietly, his hand running up and down Will’s back.

“Yeah.” It’s not even entirely a lie. He lays like that, straddling Auston’s lap until it starts to feel less like everything around him is buzzing.

“I saw Kyle,” he confesses.

“Yeah,” Auston replies, calm and collected. “Still wearing that Hugo Boss, huh?”

Right. Fuck. Of course Auston can smell it on him.

“Was it okay?” Auston asks when he doesn’t say anything. “Seeing him again.”

“Yeah, I guess. But sort of not really? Not at first. It was just a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Why would you have to be sorry, baby? Nothing you have to apologize for.”

Baby.

Will finally lifts his head to look Auston in the eyes.

Kyle’s eyes remind him of a warm scotch, a little gold in all that amber. Auston though — also warm but like a pool of melted chocolate, a little bit of hazelnut atop sweet, dark syrup.

Maybe that’s always been it. Kyle made him feel more grown up than he had any right to, but Auston makes him feel like a kid in a candy store. Giddy. Hungry.

“Kiss me,” he murmurs and Auston obliges. It’s different now, just like he thought it would be ever since he had that eureka moment at Kyle’s.

It feels like he’s soaring, higher and higher, straight for the sun, except he’s not afraid. Kyle may have wanted to keep him safe and tell him to stay away, but Auston will let him fly as close as he wants.

Auston — his big, beautiful Auston, will catch him.

“Jag älskar dig, älskling,” Willy whispers against Auston’s lips when they part.

“Love you, too, baby.”

[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Chapter 6- Part 3

Through this corner and up this hallway we go, aaand here we’ve got some more Grunts!

It’s more likely than you think!

Alright, this isn’t so bad- Riptide can handle Aron pretty easily. Water Gun time, baby!

Heck yeah. Well- not for Budew, both Aron and Zubat have been ganging up on it, very sad. Anyways, back to attacking-

Hm- Riptide’s not doing as much damage to Zubat as I’d like, not to mention he just got a level-up…so you know what? I’ll switch into Whiskers, she’s got Zen Headbutt anyways.

Speaking of switching, uh…

You know what? Sandile’s a much better matchup against the Zubat than Budew. In fact, it’s such a better matchup that Sandile ends up stealing Whiskers’ kill with Bite!

Eh…a victory is a victory I guess, and Whiskers gets the exp. points either way.

Oh- his Sandile’s Ability is Moxie? That’ll be good to remember in the future.

You’re not allowed to do that punchline!! I already did it!!

Alright, so, continuing on up here, we kinda turn these corners, and then…

Hey, there’s an item up there! I don’t think we can go up to the second floor just yet, but when we do, I’ll have to remember to grab whatever that is.

AND THEN X HAD TO LEAVE TO TAKE CARE OF IRL STUFF.

SHE CAME BACK AFTER SEVERAL HOURS.

So, it is currently 9:30 PM as of the time of writing this. I could wait until tomorrow morning to continue on with this escapade, when I’m a little less tired, but I’d actually rather not do that, soooo…

(Future edit: Little did I know, I would have no choice but to put the rest of this play session off until the next day anyways, but I digress-)

Also, through the power of saving the game, I have discovered this location is called Mosswater Industrial! As I said before: YEAH DUDE, IT SURE IS!

Now, despite the fact that Ace told the Grunts to slow us down and we need to stop them from deleting all the data (I’m assuming), I…don’t think there’s an actual time constraint? Like, Fern didn’t say anything like “we need to get up there as soon as possible, we can’t waste time fighting everyone” or something, and there’s no indication of a legit time limit, so like…I don’t think there’s a penalty to fighting all the Grunts we come across.

In other words, despite the fact that we went around these two, we’re gonna beat them up anyways.

Alright, what have we here…I don’t think we have anything that’s specifically good against either of these, but Streak can still hold his own. And we can start that with Tail Whip, which will lower both Rattata and Lillipup’s Defenses at the same time! 

This’ll be useful not just for Streak, but for Fern’s Sandile as well because uuuuuh…well, Budew got knocked out again. RIP, I guess.

So, neither Streak nor Sandile are super great against these two, but they’re still doing…something. I’m having Streak focus on Lillipup for the time being-

Which worked out very well! Now these two can just focus on the Rattata and win the battle, which also works out well enough- ignore Streak’s HP, he’s fine.

Can’t believe Xera and Fern are exterminators now- but given that was a bit of a running gag with a D&D campaign me and some friends did (lest we forget Slap Her Bald Head Sunday), I’m fine with carrying on the legacy in this playthrough.

And I was heading into the menu to check something, and I finally noticed something…

The party gets healed after every battle! I didn’t even notice that in the last few battles, but now that I do- great! That means I’ll have an easier time saving resources (namely those Potions) during this. My cheapskate arc in this game continues on apace!

Previous

Next

[galactic-pirates]

@tinknevertalks thanks for the tag :) I know you also tagged me on the WIP poll post but as I don't really have any fanfic WIPs I wasn't sure how to do that one. I did appreciate it though. I always get a warm awww when someone thinks enough of me to tag, so thank you.

Anyway!

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

I think I'll do my last 10 posted on AO3? That seems reasonable. So in reverse order (most recently posted at #1)

1) Somewhere to Belong (Star Trek: Picard, Seven/Raffi)

“Insubordination.” Raffi snorted. “Picard does bring that out in people. Although really… Seven…” she sighed.

2) Time Will Tell (Sanctuary, James/John/Helen)

“I take it the two of you have finally decided to stop dancing around one another,” Helen noted dryly.

3) We Belong to the Future (The Librarians, Eve/Flynn)

“Thirty years we travelled, somewhere new every week. I barely noticed beyond the season change. I didn’t count the years. Well I suppose I did but not…” Charlene trailed off, shaking her head. “It’s all different. The world has changed around us, but we’re still the same.”

4) Odyssey: Future's Legacy (Sanctuary/Warehouse 13, James/John/Helen, Myka/HG, Artie/MacPherson)

“Hey, Artie,” Claudia answered. “Yeah, we’re almost done here, I think Fang-boy just found it.” Nikola twisted to glare at her. He accepted such indignities from the wolf-boy, as they traded such things, but really? And he had thought Claudia respected him. He stalked forward, aware that his demeanour was probably like that of an offended cat, Nigel used to roast him for it. Nikola didn’t usually think of Nigel much, he had been dead over six decades, but the case, centering around the griffins as it did, was conjuring up many old memories of Griffin. It was a shame he hadn’t lived to see his namesake.

5) Dancing on Broken Glass (Star Trek: Picard, Seven/Raffi)

Seven set her mouth in a firm line. It felt incongruous to keep dancing like there was nothing wrong, when suddenly everything felt wrong between them. The mood had changed from flirty to unhappy tension in the blink of an eye. Suddenly Seven realised that the tension wasn’t just stemming from them.

6) Celebrate the Day (Sanctuary)

Every Christmas after that for the next few years they’d built Lego decorations. It had been the tradition of their childhood. Helen had felt a pang the year they’d stopped. Henry had reached the age where he was old enough to start building anything he wanted for real, and Ashley had been so eager to grow up and leave toys behind her. Now the tradition was passed to the next generation.

7) Gentleman of Blood (Sanctuary, James/John/Helen)

“War is coming,” James commented, with terrifying certainty. Helen sighed. “I wish you would stop saying that, James.” James turned to look at her, his eyes flickering to John behind her, and then back to meet her eyes. “I wish it weren’t true, darling,” he said apologetically. “But Europe is a powder keg. It’s only a matter of time, and with these investments Worth stood to make a fortune when it happened.”

8) Focused Avoidance (Warehouse 13, Artie/MacPherson)

He’d tried warning Myka, he’d even referenced James directly, but she hadn’t seen the obvious parallel and he hadn’t elaborated. An agent had to trust their partner. Artie had trusted MacPherson with his very soul and had been burned - rather literally if you took into account the Phoenix artifact. Perhaps because of what had happened with James, Artie had picked up the sparks between Myka and the thrice-damned HG Wells almost from the start, almost certainly before anyone else bar Mrs Frederic of course.

9) The Tragic Tail (Sanctuary, Helen/James)

“It’s April 14th,” Helen murmured. That meant nothing to James but his gut clenched. It meant something to Helen and there was a catch in her voice, something that told him that very soon it would mean a lot to him.

10) It takes little effort to watch a man carry a load (Sanctuary, James/John)

James shook his head. “No. I’m quite sure John killed those poor women but the real question is why. Don’t you see, Nikola?” James pleaded. “There has to be a reason. John would never have done… that on his own. I will find out what happened, and I will save him from it, if it’s the last thing I do.”

I don't think I know 10 people well enough to tag sadly. So tagging @purlturtle, @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter, @rinari7, @enterprise-come-in and @ussjellyfish and of course anyone who wants to do it :)

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

AITA for carrying on an important legacy?

So I’m a court bailiff in a large city. The judge I primarily work with is a man I greatly respect and care for, and I recently discovered he has been doing some things that aren’t necessarily legal but are still helpful to the world at large. Recently he suffered the death of a close friend and has also quit doing these things.

However, I saw a lot of potential in it and decided to pick up his slack. A few days after this I told him about it because I thought he had the right to know and that he’d be understanding, and he blew up on me. Telling me I’m insane, that this is dangerous and I could die, that doing these things negatively impacts him, all kinds of stuff.

My thing is, even though I did start this because of him I don’t think it directly impacts his life in any way just because it was his idea originally. He wants me to stop, but I don’t want to. So, AITA here?

Edit 1: I’m not specifying what the idea is ok. It’s not legal but it’s moral and I don’t want to lose my job or see him lose his job, and it is a little dangerous, but so are most things. So stop asking.

Edit 2: Yes, he didnt tell me directly he was doing these things, and I found out despite him really not wanting me to. I still feel he is reacting way too negatively.

Edit 3: Well, it’s been a couple weeks and he’s still mad at me, but I also think we’re starting to go back to normal. Some stuff happened and now he has a flight out of state soon. I’ll miss him, but I’m also kind of relieved.

Edit 4: Reddit quick how do you heal massive gunshot wou

[signalwatch]

Hallmark Watch: A Holiday Spectacular (2022)

Watched:  11/27/2022

Format:  Hallmark Channel

Viewing:  First

Director:  John Putch

It's easy to forget that before they had a cable channel and the need to fill programming 24/7, Hallmark started making movies for network television.  Back in the day, Hallmark used to deliver semi-prestige Sunday-night movies with name talent.  I don't think this happens anymore as they've moved these movies to The Hallmark Channel and the budgets have taken a hit of sorts, but the DNA of those "Hallmark Presents" movies still exists.  So, every Christmas, tucked amongst the usual low-budget fare of the Hallmark movie season, you do get a movie or three with name actors or big set pieces. 

One of this year's offerings is A Holiday Spectacular (2022), which has only two name actors, one of whom is Eve Plumb, which blew my mind, and Ann-Margret.  Ann-Margret mostly only appears in a framing sequence and probably knocked her part out in 2-3 days of shooting, but it's still a delight to see her.  

In a way, the big star of the film aside from Ann-Margret is the world famous precision dance team, The Rockettes, who somehow I've still never seen perform, which seems impossible.  But the movie does a neat trick of tying the legacy and history of the Rockettes (who have existed in some form since the 1920's) to the modern era by having Ann-Margret appear as a former dancer telling her grand-daughter about her own history as they wander around Rockefeller Center which doesn't need any set dressing, really, to play itself in mid-Century America.

The real star of the film is Ginna Claire Mason, who is really a Broadway star (Wicked, Flashdance) playing the young Maggie of the 1950's.  So, yes, not only did Hallmark go all in on The Rockettes, shooting in NYC here and there, this is a period piece.  Mason hasn't done much screen work, but I think maybe she could do more?  She has no problem carrying the film.  She just does much less shimmying than you will remember Ann-Margret doing in a similar period.

The basic plot is a sort of League of Their Own meets Poor Little Rich Girl story about a society gal running away to the big city to become a dancer while lying to her family and dull-as-hell fiancee about why she's in New York for 3 months.  Along the way she makes lifelong friends and finds love with a Navy photographer? who is also defying his parents' expectations.  (Eve Plumb, btw, plays the boyfriends' mom, and veteran Broadway performer Carolyn McCormick plays our leads' mom.)

I won't oversell it.  It's fine!  You might enjoy it.  If I had a little kid I wanted to understand that sometimes parental expectations don't align with personal passion, I'd think this movie does it as well as many.  It actually does try to give all of the supporting characters arcs, from the lead's romantic interest to her roommate, to their close friends within the Rockettes.

We are treated to some Rockettes numbers (with them cutting in our leads in some close-ups, but good luck spotting them in wide shots) - and this is clearly an ad for you to come see The Rockettes while in New York.  Which I would!  But.  I have not.

The twitter-riffic criticism of the film is that the movie tries to pave over the Rockettes' less than ideal history of resisting desegregation into the 1980's and instead casts race-blind for some roles.  And, of course, includes the modern Rockettes line-up.  There's probably a movie out there one could make about the real-life integration of the Rockettes, but I don't know if a fairy tale about finding friends along the way is that movie.  We're in some weird territory here, but I choose to think Hallmark is presenting an ideal we should have had, just as the Rockettes work is seen as tough but basically a big family - and that may be far from the truth.  That work looks hard, man.

Anyway.  

https://ift.tt/uqOK1EZ

from The Signal Watch https://ift.tt/dmFACV9

[laresearchette]

Friday, November 25, 2022 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: FANTASY FOOTBALL (Paramount +) ¡QUE DELICIOSO! (The Roku Channel) A ROYAL CORGI CHRISTMAS (W Network) 8:00pm JEFF DUNHAM: ME THE PEOPLE (CTV Comedy) 8:00pm WE’RE HERE (HBO Canada) 10:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT? STEPPIN’ INTO THE HOLIDAY (Premiering on December 04 on CTV Life at 8:00pm) THE CROODS: FAMILY TREE (TBD - YTV) DESTINATION FEAR (TBD - DTour) FATAL FAMILY REUNION (TBD - Lifetime Canada) HOW DO THEY DO IT? (TBD - Science)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE MEET CUTE

CBC GEM CALL THE MIDWIFE SEASON 10 HOLIDAY SPECIAL LIVING WILD: HOW TO CHANGE YOUR LIFE (Season 1a)

CRAVE TV THE 40-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN DOULA DRAGON THE FLINTSTONES THE FAMILY MAN LOONEY TUNES: RABBITS RUN MISTLETOE TIME MACHINE NEIGHBORS PANHANDLE (Season 1) TEEN MOM UK (Season 8) THREE NIGHT STAND   WE’RE HERE (Season 3)

DISNEY + STAR THE GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY HOLIDAY SPECIAL THE HIP HOP NUTCRACKER

NETFLIX CANADA BLOOD & WATER (Season 3) GHISLAINE MAXWELL: FILTHY RICH

FIFA WORLD CUP SOCCER (TSN/TSN3/TSN4/TSN5) 4:45am: Wales vs. Iran (TSN/TSN3/TSN4/TSN5) 7:45am: Qatar vs. Senegal (TSN/TSN3/TSN4/TSN5) 10:45am: Netherlands vs. Ecuador (TSN/TSN3/TSN4/TSN5) 1:45pm: England vs. USA (TSN/TSN5) 8:30pm: Match of the Day

NHL HOCKEY (SN) 2:00pm: Flames vs. Capitals (TSN2) 2:00pm: Habs vs. Blackhawks (TSN4) 2:00pm: Leafs vs. Wild (TSN5) 3:00pm: Sens vs. Ducks (SN) 5:30pm: Penguins vs. Flyers (SN) 8:00pm: Blues vs. Lightning (TSN3) 8:30pm: Jets vs. Stars

PULSE (APTN) 7:00pm: Meet The Ukwehuwe Connection, a dance troupe from the Oneida Nation that showcases traditional Haudenosaunee dances. The group was formed by Frazer Sundown to raise awareness of his culture and show that the Oneida people are still here and still strong.

A GINGERBREAD CHRISTMAS (CTV Life) 7:00pm: Hazel goes to spend the holidays in her hometown, where a romance begins to bloom with a local contractor who has been helping her father with their family bakery.

NCAA FOOTBALL (TSN2) 7:30pm: Florida vs. Florida State

NBA BASKETBALL (TSN4) 7:30pm: Cavaliers vs. Bucks (SN NOW) 8:00pm: Lakers vs. Spurs (SN1) 8:00pm: Pelicans vs. Grizzlies (SN1) 10:30pm: Nuggets vs. Clippers

MARKETPLACE (CBC) 8:00pm: Testing the sizing of jeans; putting the safety of motorcycle helmets to the test; and eco-friendly alternatives to balloons.

RODEO NATION (APTN) 8:00pm: The Ponoka Rodeo is the last chance to qualify for the world championships in Las Vegas; veteran Bill T. Head knows what it takes to win, and his son tries to carry his legacy.

MEMORIES OF CHRISTMAS (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: When Noelle inherits her mother's house, she finds out that for the past few years her aging mother had been hiring professionals to decorate it for Christmas. Noelle tells the decorator that the deal is off, but he refuses to take no for an answer.

TRAVEL MAN: 48 HOURS IN… (CBC) 8:30pm:  DJ, broadcaster and podcaster Alice Levine joins Richard for a 48-hour fling round the Estonian capital Tallinn. Over two maxxed out days, Richard and Alice rip round the city’s most see-able sights, summit the country’s highest structure, nosh at its top Restaurant and stroke Sean Connery’s face.

STORIES FROM THE LAND (APTN) 8:30pm: A chef and a knowledge keeper make traditional corn soup, and pass on the story of why corn soup is so culturally significant to the Indigenous people of southern Ontario.

THE PASSIONATE EYE (CBC) 9:00pm: The Climate Baby Dilemma: For a growing number of young people, the climate crisis is affecting decisions about whether or not to have kids

TRANSPLANT (CTV) 9:00pm

THE PROOF IS OUT THERE: SKINWALKER EDITION (History Canada) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE):  Tony Harris travels to Skinwalker Ranch, a place known for strange alien encounters, while experts scrutinize some of the most compelling video evidence of UFOs.

DOULA (Crave) 9:00pm:  A couple reluctantly hire a male doula to help them navigate the joys and pitfalls of modern pregnancy.

CANADA'S DRAG RACE: CANADA VS. THE WORLD (Crave 2) 9:00pm: Are you ready for the Snatch Summit? With an EXTRA special appearance by Canadian Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau.

A PERFECT ENEMY (Super Channel Fuse) 9:00pm: An architect's strange conversation with a mysterious young woman soon turns into something sinister and deadly.

CRIME BEAT (Global) 10:00pm: Detectives investigate leads in what they believe was a targeted killing; reporter Mark Carcasole reveals the twists and turns in the plot to kill Davis, and just how close to home it was.

BLOOD IN THE SNOW FILM FESTIVAL (Super Channel Fuse) 12:05am: The Devil Comes at Night:  A washed up boxer searching for his inheritance must fight for his life when he is trapped in his deceased father's farmhouse by a local cannibal cult.

[caitimetravels]

she’s insignificant

chapter 3: the dangers inside

the umbrella academy x reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: swearing, mentions of death

masterlist

y/n stared at the blue energy in the courtyard before deciding to join her siblings as they rushed to see what it was. as she ran down the stairs she caught sight of klaus holding a fire extinguisher.

"what are you doing?" she caught up with him.

"something" he shrugged, bursting out the door first. "out of the way!"

"thats not going to- klaus what the hell?" y/n went to stop him only to watch as he tried to extinguish the mass of energy. she shook her head in disbelief, stepping beside vanya.

klaus chucked the extinguisher when he realised it wouldn't work.

"what is that gonna do?" allison shouted over the loud noise. klaus threw his hands up.

"i don't know. do you have a better idea?" he stepped back in surprise as another flash came from the portal. luther pulled klaus back.

"everyone get behind me!" and in true sibling rivalry diego nodded, shielding vanya and y/n.

"yeah, get behind us!"

they watched, brows furrowing at the familiar figure that dropped to the ground. as they stepped closer the vortex disappeared.

"is that-?" y/n looked up at vanya, peeking around diego to see.

there, in a too large sized suit, stood their missing brother. he pushed himself to his feet taking in their appearance.

"does anyone else see little number five is that just me?" klaus questioned as they walked closer. the said boy stared down at himself in confusion before looking back at them.

"shit" he cursed.

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

they all moved back into the kitchen, letting five do as he pleased while he explained what he needed to.

he placed a chopping board and knife on the table while the others stood at the other end. y/n stood off to the corner, not entirely comfortable with them after being accused of murder. "what's the date? the exact date"

five walked around, grabbing bread to make himself a sandwich. vanya answered, "the 24th"

"of what?" five pushed walking back over.

"march"

"good" he pulled out two pieces of bread, laying them on the chopping board.

"so, are we going to talk about what just happened?" luther raised an eyebrow, expectantly but five stayed silent. "its been 17 years!" luther stood, frustrated but five wasn't taking any of his bullshit.

"it's been a lot longer than that" the shorter boy walked towards him before blinking behind him to grab the marshmallows. luther sighed,

"i haven't missed that"

"where'd you go?" diego piped up, unfazed.

"the future" five sighed, "and it's shit by the way" he opened up the bag of marshmallows.

"called it!" klaus raised his finger.

"do you want one?" five looked up at y/n, referring to the sandwich, a soft gleam in his eyes. the others shared a look, of course he had only missed her. she gently shook her head with a small smile. "i should have listened to the old man" five walked to the fridge, pulling out a jar. "he knew. travelling through space is one thing, travelling through time is a toss of the dice"

he paused as he opened the peanut butter, looking up at them again before noticing klaus' attire. "nice dress"

"oh, danke" klaus twirled loose material around. allison rolled her eyes.

"how did you get back?"

"in the end i had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time" he continued making his sandwich like he hadn't just shocked them.

"that makes no sense" diego scoffed,

"well, it would if you were smarter" five shrugged, ignoring the way diego stood up to fight him. luther held him back.

"did you put a decimal point in the wrong spot?" y/n asked, surprising the others. she crossed her arms, thinking "it was probably a miscalculation in your proof of the existence of a bound for the number of limit cycles of planar polynomial vector fields of fixed degree."

five paused, thinking it over before realising she was right. "it should have been 0.57" he mumbled.

"how long were you there?" luther changed the subject, obviously confused.

"45 years" five went back to his sandwich making. "give or take"

everyone sat back down in shock.

"so what are you saying? that you're 58?!" luther narrowed his eyes in disbelief. there was no way.

"no" five looked up, speaking through gritted teeth. "my consciousness is 58. apparently my body is now 16 again"

"how does that even work?" vanya croaked out, still shocked at the situation.

"delores kept saying the equations were off" five shrugged, stepping away and looking off into the distance as he took a bite of his sandwich. "bet she's laughing now"

"delores?" vanya asked. y/n froze, he had kept her? at the girl's movement, or lack thereof, allison looked over at her, raising her eyebrows.

y/n shook her head, waving it off.

five picked up the newspaper on the table, staring at the picture of their father.

"hm.. guess i missed the funeral"

"how'd you know about that?" luther questioned, defensive.

"what part of the future do you not understand?" five narrowed his eyes, slightly amused by his brothers incompetence. "heart failure, huh?"

"yeah-" diego started only to be cut off by luther.

"no" there was silence for a moment before a kitchen knife stabbed into the table beside luther's hand.

"if i had murderous intent, luther, you'd be the first on my list" y/n scoffed, walking out.

they all stared after her in shock.

"nice to see nothing's changed" five sighed before following her out.

"thats it?" allison asked, turning towards him as he walked. "thats all you have to say?"

"what else is there to say? circle of life" he called back.

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

vanya walked up to five in the parlour where he stood staring at his painting.

"nice to know dad didn't forget me" five turned to her, "read your book by the way.. found it in the library that was still standing"

he started to walk around, noticing y/n sitting on the balcony above. she had her legs dangling through the bars, calmly reading a book. he turned back to vanya.

"thought it was pretty good, all things considered" he stared her down, "definitely ballsy, giving up the family secrets. sure that went over well"

"they hate me" vanya frowned,

"well there are worse things that can happen" five was obviously trying to cheer her up, in his own way.

"you mean like what happened to ben?" there was a pause, both thinking it over.

"was it bad?" five asked softly, he knew y/n was still listening. he heard the faint sound of a book shutting. he looked away as vanya nodded.

"y/n had a hard time dealing with it.. the worst of all of us. dad forbid her from going on missions after her reaction.."

"her reaction?" five turned back, eyebrows furrowing, this wasn't in vanya's book.

"she nearly tore our souls out.. she was devastated and couldn't control her emotions. dad said it helped her though, something about a new ability. he trained her alone from then, forcing her to find you" vanya shrugged, sighing, going silent.

"find me?" five pushed, "what do you mean find me?"

"she said she did.. did she not?" vanya looked surprised now.

"no, no she did.. just didn't stay long is all" five shook his head, frowning.

"yeah well, they stopped trying when she lied to dad"

"she lied?" five looked back up at where she was previously sitting but now she was gone, the only thing left behind was her book and a wisp of smoke.

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

"ben.. i'm- i'm scared" eight sat cross legged in front of his statue. "my powers are getting stronger and i'm scared to hurt the others. i wish you were still here" she refused to cry no matter how much she wanted to. she couldn't let the same thing happen.

"i'm scared ben. what if i can't control it? what if hurt somebody? you're not here to help me and i-.. it hurts sometimes. dad doesn't understand, he never did but it hurts to suppress my emotions like he wants me to. we try so hard and he still never thinks we're enough.." she paused, pulling her knees up to her chest. "what if i am weak? what if he's right?"

unbeknownst to her ben's ghost sat beside her. "you're not weak" he shook his head, moving to look at her face. "you'll never be weak, you're so strong. please keep being strong for me" he pleaded with her as she continued to blame herself. he hated this. he hated not being there for her. he just wanted her to be okay.

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

y/n walked beside five, standing under his umbrella with him. they didn't speak as they walked back out into the courtyard. the siblings all stood in line with luther in front of them, carrying their dad's ashes.

"did something happen?" grace looked at them all, smiling despite the occasion. they all looked up at her.

"dad died.." allison answered, confused. "remember?"

"oh, yes of course" grace nodded, expression turning more somber.

"is mom okay?" allison asked, now worried about how grace was acting.

"yeah, yeah she's fine" diego quickly defended, "she just needs to rest, you know, recharge" allison looked incredulous but dropped it nonetheless.

pogo stepped forwards, looking up at luther. "whenever you're ready, dear boy"

luther breathed out, opening the lid and dropping the ashes in a pitiful pile. they all frowned.

"probably would have been better with some wind" luther griped,

"does anyone wish to speak?" pogo ignored it, looking at the rest of them. everyone stayed silent, looking away. "very well.. in all regards, sir reginald hargreeves made me what i am today, for that alone i shall forever be in his debt. he was my master and my friend and i shall miss him very much.." he paused, "he leaves behind a complicated legacy-"

"he was a monster" diego cut off, still staring down at the ashes. klaus laughed. "he was bad person and a worse father. the world's better off without him-"

"diego" allison scolded, glaring at him in surprise.

"my name is number two. you know why?" he looked over at her. "because our father couldn't be bothered to give us actual names, he had mom do it"

"would anyone like something to eat?" grace asked, smiling again, unaware of what was happening.

"no, its okay mom" vanya denied, albeit confused.

"oh, okay"

"look, you wanna pay your respects" diego stepped out in front of them, "go head, but at least be honest about the kind of man he was" he looked at pogo now.

"you should stop talking now" luther warned, anger growing. diego glared at him for a moment before fully turning to face him.

"you know, you of all people should be on my side here, number one"

"i am warning you-" diego ignored him,

"after everything he did to you" y/n sighed, crossing her arms to her chest, fighting wasn't going to fix any of them. klaus and five shared a look. "he had to ship you a million miles away"

"diego stop talking-" luther tried again. diego was definitely hitting a nerve. he jabbed a finger into luther's chest.

"that's how much he couldn't stand the sight of you!" luther grabbed his arm and swung at his head. diego ducked. they begun fighting while everyone else backed away.

"boys! stop this at once!" pogo attempted to stop them, moving back despite this.

klaus held an arm out to shield five and y/n. the former slapped it away. they continued to fight, diego egging him on and landing several punches. klaus began to chant while vanya yelled at them to stop.

"klaus" y/n warned, gaining both his and five's attention. her eyes were turning black, she was struggling.

"y/n? are you okay?" five hadn't been there, he didn't know what she would do if she lost control. pogo walked away, not wanting to stay. klaus nervously watched y/n while the others watched luther and diego fight.

"i don't have time for this" five sighed, beginning to walk away, leaving y/n with klaus under his small pink umbrella.

that was when it happened. y/n froze as they knocked ben's statue.

"aw" klaus complained while allison glared at them.

"and there goes ben's statue"

"klaus?" y/n's voice scared them all. she sounded weak. she gripped his jacket, tightly. "klaus"

"what's wrong?" he looked down at her, watching as she fought her emotions. her eyes were turning black but she kept fighting it.

diego pulled out his knife and vanya's shouting at him to stop made it harder for y/n to calm herself. he threw it at luther, cutting his arm.

"klaus" she called again and he held her arm unsure of what to do. "i-i can't.. i can't-" she let out a pained whine as her eyes darkened, she was letting go. suddenly diego and luther let out shouts of pain.

"what's going on?!" allison watched them, confused and distraught. vanya quickly left their mother's side, pulling y/n into her.

"its okay, you're okay" vanya whispered to her, trying to calm her. "it can be fixed, you're okay, just relax. try to relax" listening to vanya's heartbeat she slowly calmed down, the blackness of her eyes seeping away and diego and luther straightened, no longer in pain.

y/n stared at them in shock and guilt before shaking her head and running inside. she locked herself in her room again. she was truly a demon.

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

one by one the siblings left, y/n watched sadly as they all abandoned her again. she was always left alone, the family problems only got bigger when they got together. she sighed, maybe she was better off alone.

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

y/n looked up from her book as she heard frantic footsteps around the mansion. peeking out her door she noticed vanya slowing down in front of five's room.

"oh thank god" she disappeared through his doorway but y/n could still hear her voice. "i was worried sick about you"

five had talked to vanya? why hadn't he come to her?

"sorry i left without saying goodbye" five's voice answered softly. what had he been doing? y/n quietly left her room to hear better. she wanted to be apart of her brother's plans too. she didn't want to be left out anymore.

"no, i'm the one that should be sorry. i was dismissive and i guess i didn't know how to process what you were saying.." vanya paused, "i still can't to be honest"

"maybe you were right to be dismissive" five huffed, that didn't sound like him at all? what was he really doing? "maybe it wasn't real after all.. it felt real. but well, like you said the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind"

well vanya referred him to a therapist y/n tried to sense the room. something else was going on. carefully using her power she felt another person.. klaus. when vanya walked out y/n quickly turned to smoke, gliding along the floor, past five who watched vanya leave. klaus pulled himself out of the closet.

"that's so touching, all that stuff about family and dad and time"

"will you shut up? she'll hear you" five warned him, walking back over.

"you're lying to vanya?" y/n appeared next to klaus, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"it's nothing you should worry about" five dismissed before looking klaus over again. "i thought i told you to put on something professional"

"what? this my nicest outfit" klaus gestured to it. y/n snorted when five scoffed.

"we'll raid the old man's closet"

"whatever, as long as i get paid" klaus shrugged, beginning to walk behind five.

"when the job is done" they stopped just above the stairs.

"so, where are we going?" she followed along, smiling innocently at five who raised an eyebrow at her.

"not we, just klaus and i" five shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"five" she frowned,

"y/n" he mocked.

"just let me come, please don't leave me in the dark. i just want to help you" she pleaded, she had missed him.

he thought it over before sighing, "fine" he turned to walk again but klaus stopped him.

"but just so we're clear on the finer details" he waved his hand around, talking over the plan. "i just got to go into this place and pretend to be your dear old dad, correct?"

"yeah, something like that" five agreed, exasperated.

"what's our cover story?" klaus continued, ignoring five's look of annoyance.

"what? what are you talking about?" five shared a confused look with y/n who shrugged.

"i mean was i young when i had you, like 16.. like young and terribly misguided" five agreed just to get him to stop but he didn't. "your mother, that slut, whoever she was, we met at.. the disco and you can be his sister"

"i am his sister?" y/n raised an eyebrow, but klaus only smiled, clicking his fingers.

"okay, remember that. oh my god the sex was amazing"

y/n scoffed, walking away first, five following. "what a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain"

"don't make me put you in time out" klaus waved a finger at him.

as they walked out the door onto the street y/n paused.

"what's wrong, baby sis?" klaus asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "you're not backing out already?"

"no!" she quickly denied, looking up at him as she snapped out of her starstruck daze. "it's just.. i haven't left the house in 16 years.."

klaus and five shared a sorrowful look. what had happened to her?

tags: @rxses-and-reverie

[mostlybarnes]

It’s My Party, You’re Not Invited (Part Two)

Summary: The morning after Bucky threw a party, you confront him but it doesn’t go according to plan.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: more angst, arguing, Bucky is an asshole, language, not proof read, mistakes are my own!

Words: 1,567

Author’s Notes: Wow. I absolutely can not believe the support on part one! I’m so happy you guys liked it, and of course I’m always happy to give people what they want and since so many of you asked for part two, here it is! Really hope you won’t be disappointed, please let me know what you think. And don’t worry, there WILL be a part three. This isn’t the end!!

As you had predicted, you got no sleep. Your night consisted of you tossing and turning and occasionally groaning loudly into your pillow.

Your pillow was your closest friend, it captured your falling tears, and provided you with comfort when you couldn’t rest. The morning sun was pouring through your parted drapes, a new day was beginning and you knew you definitely wouldn’t be getting any sleep now.

Lazily, you threw the blankets off of you and sat on the edge of your bed, your palms on either side of you, digging into the mattress. Bucky not inviting you to his party shouldn’t have bothered you, but for some reason, it did. It was the reason you got no sleep, and you were annoyed by how Nat and your friends treated you last night. They were laughing and you couldn’t help but feel like they were laughing at you, even if they weren’t. Today would be the day you would confront Bucky, no matter what. But first, you needed a hot shower to try and wash away the tension that was rolling off your shoulders.

The shower itself would have taken a good ten minutes on a good day, but you spent almost an hour on the shower floor with your knees tucked under your chin and fresh tears disappearing under the shower head. Pathetic, you told yourself. Crying over something that wasn’t even your fault. How dare he treat you this way and make you feel broken. Speak of the devil, through the sounds of your cries and the water cascading down around you, your thoughts snapped back to reality when you heard his laugh from the hallway again.

Enough was enough with his games, you needed to know why you didn’t get an invite, it was just a simple little question.

Standing up off the shower floor with shaky legs, you turned off the shower and stepped out to grab the towel off the rail and pat yourself dry. In your haste to get dressed, your clothes were mismatched and your sweater was turned inside out. You didn’t care about that though, you needed to speak with Bucky. You needed answers.

You left your room and followed the sounds of the chatter coming from the common room. Your feet quickly carried you there, stopping in the doorway and noticing the room was completely trashed from last night’s shenanigans.

Broken glass was scattered over the marble floors, there were literally hundreds of solo cups all over the tables, there was even a broken window.

What the hell happened here? You wondered, stepping into the room, being careful not to tread on glass.

“Watch your feet!” Bucky warned, holding his hands up to halt your footsteps. “There’s glass everywhere.”

“No shit.” You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest and rolling your eyes. You heard him click his tongue as he worked on sweeping up the glass. “I heard you had a party?”

“Uh yeah, just some close friends and stuff.” He shrugged, and ouch if that didn’t fucking hurt.

“Really? I didn’t know you were– were close friends with people from…. statistics?” Anger was rushing through your veins, his nonchalant attitude wasn’t making this any easier and neither was the lack of sleep. You wondered what had happened to the sweet guy you knew. The shy Bucky who couldn’t even make himself a sandwich because he was afraid of being mocked by the other avengers. Or the Bucky that loved to sip herbal tea at 3 in the morning. Where did that Bucky go? Who is this Bucky? It was like a switch flipped and he changed overnight.

“What is this about, Y/N? You walk in here with some kind of an attitude problem and I’m tired, it’s early and I’m not in the mood.” He snapped and that was it for you. If he was tired, you were something else.

You stepped into the room regardless of the broken glass still all over the floor, not caring if any shards cut your feet as you stand toe to toe with Bucky. You shove him, but not surprised when he doesn’t budge.

“Where was my invite? What did I do to you to make you forget about me? It shouldn’t even be a big deal but–”

“Then stop making it a big deal! Is that what this is really about huh? It was my party and I invited the people I wanted to be there!”

“Wha– but you invited everyone but me!” You cried, your voice breaking at the end.

“Then maybe that tells you something.” He offers no sympathy to your state of distress. At least not to your face, it’s when you turn your back and he hears you cry harder does his own heart break. He didn’t mean for this to happen and the Black Widow’s footsteps behind him is about to remind him of his mistakes.

“You’ve really messed this up Barnes. I’m not sure Y/N will ever forgive you.” Bucky turns to look at Nat. Guilt and anger written all over his face.

“You don’t think I know that?! I did it to protect Y/N!”

“Well, what are you gonna do about it?”

“I don’t know.”

////

The day away from the compound was exactly what you needed. The air was refreshing and cold, biting against your skin. It helped to clear your thoughts that were running in circles since you talked to Bucky. You still didn’t have a clear answer as to why he chose not to invite you, and that bothered you more than anything, but what he did say replayed in your mind. You suppose he had a point, it was his party and up to him who he chose to invite but it confused you because you thought you were on good terms with Bucky. Did you get it wrong? Where did it all go wrong?

Your fingers wrapped around the mug as you sat in the corner of the quiet coffee shop with a friend as they watched you watch the world go by.

“Okay, what’s going on?” They asked, blowing into the hot liquid before taking a quick sip.

A deep sigh fell from between your lips. Your body and mind felt exhausted, it was hard to concentrate.

“I don’t even know. I feel like I’m overreacting.” You shrugged, licking your lips and looking into your coffee as if seeking the answers to your unanswered questions.

“Overreacting? Did something happen on the mission you just got back from?”

“No, no. Something that happened after that. You know Bucky, right?”

“Bucky Barnes?” They asked with a raised eyebrow. You nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. “What about him?”

“I just– I– would you be honest with me and tell me if I’m overreacting?” You bit your lip nervously and your friend nodded.

“Of course! Tell me everything.”

True to their word, your friend sat and listened to every single word without interruptions or sassy remarks. They didn’t stop to ask you questions, and they didn’t make you feel pathetic like you felt. Talking about it out loud made you feel stupid, maybe it was stupid to get angry over something so small. That maybe deep down Bucky had a good reason not to invite you. Maybe you just weren’t close to him after all.

“I’m so stupid, aren’t I?” You shrugged, the wooden table becoming more of an interest.

“You’re not stupid. He’s stupid but I think he likes you.” Your head snapped up and so did your eyebrows.

“You’re insane! Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Of course I did!” They defended with a smirk, “and here’s what we’re gonna try.”

///

Your friend’s idea was so stupid and this dress was far too tight for your liking. You felt like your your body was spilling out at the seams, a complete opposite to what you were used to wearing: comfortable clothing or pajamas.

Walking in heels was another problem for you. Any second now, you were sure you were gonna have to call Dr Cho because you had somehow broken your neck. However, after a few laps around your room, you felt confident enough to walk a few blocks in them. Grabbing a purse and a jacket from your closet, you staggered out of your room and into Bucky’s chest.

“Whoa there, you alright?” He asked, pushing you away from him. He eyed you up and down, making you feel naked under his gaze.

“Why wouldn’t I be? And what are you doing here? Outside my door?” You folded your arms across your chest, big mistake as it pushed your cleavage together and with the height difference, Bucky had a pretty good view. He was a gentleman though and kept (or tried) to keep his eyes glued to your face.

“I came to apologize. Where are you going dressed like that?”

“It’s a bit late for an apology. I got your message loud and clear from this morning.” You scoffed. “And I’m going out with my real friends, not that it’s any of your damn business.”

“A party?” He wondered, his jaw clenching at the thought of you dancing with other people that weren’t him.

“Yes, and you’re not invited.” You smirked, turning on your heels and walking towards the waiting elevator, ignoring his calls of your name.

Bucky watched as the metal doors closed, his hands tugged his hair so hard he was afraid he would rip it out. He’s fucked up, Natasha was right. There was no way of fixing this.

“Fuck!” He yelled, kicking a hole in the wall next to your door.

Taglist [50/50]: @w-wolfhxrd @kennedywxlsh @team-marvel13 @rosiahills22 @fallenoutofrose @sourpatchspinster @hazeljean2 @divergent-llamas-03 @jasminweasley @gearhead66 @loudbluepancake @pinkybee926 @furiouscopshepherduniversity @moonlacebeam @chipster-21 @rottenstyx @mundaytuesday @legacies-roserussell @gallifreyansass @supernaturalcat7 @osterfieldshollandgirl @daeguboysmykt @serendipityharry @shittyfuckinweeb @wanniiieeee @hopplessdreamer @wordacadabra @josis-teacup @barneschoco @the-nonsenseblog @angywritesstuff @cherrytop02 @spn-obession @dottirose @veroxloki @wildeausten @directorofmylife @unholyhazza @bababasti @mrslilyrogers-ficrecs @study-aesthetics01 @sophieisinlove @merlin-288 @cable-kenobi @beananacake @johnmurphys-sass @slytherdoravenger @thesnoweclipse @townwitchbadbitch @sxtansqueen

[uncouth-the-fifth]

Prompt 138 and 189 for Dames pls🥺🥺

138. "Were you just masturbating?" and 189. "I don't know what to do." / "Then let me teach you," with Damian Wayne.

i claimed i was going to start writing shy readers, then i immediately wrote the boldest reader ever 🤰 that’s my legacy. set when Damian still lives at the manor at about 19 <3

The house was suspiciously quiet. You knew that Bruce and Alfred would be gone, but considering how your texts were left on delivered, Damian had probably forgotten you were coming over. Or, some grand adventure had carried him away for the night. You tried to brace yourself for disappointment as your footsteps padded through the echoing halls of the house. Worse case scenario, Damian had forgotten and you’d get to make dinner and spend time with Alfred, like last time.

Even after being Damian’s girlfriend for several months, the Manor still intimidated you. It’s structure was confusing and sound travelled oddly, like it was cushioned by the breath of the Wayne family ghosts. You weren’t freaked out, per se. But you did sneak a little quieter while looking for Damian.

When you couldn’t find him in the library or with his pets in the observatory, your last option was his room. Again, you were daunted with the task of remembering which door was Damian’s, since they all looked the same.

A muffled sound drew you to the middlemost door in the hall. Damian was the only one who lived at home anymore, so it had to be him.

Still spooked by the rest of the house, you took the handle and eased it open as quietly as you could. Damian could be napping. He could be painting, or sketching, and neither would make a good moment to disturb him. He could be—

Touching himself. Naked.

Damian had just gotten out of the shower. His bronze shoulders were dotted with water drops, and his short, tousled black hair was shiny and damp. There was a sexy, tired edge to his face that told you he’d had an awful day - then it broke into shy bliss when his thumb brushed his tip. One hand held him up, sitting at his bedside with his legs spread and a towel open under his thighs. He was stunningly hard. The long, girthy dick that you’d only glimpsed on accident before sat awkwardly in Damian’s hands, and it occurred to you that this was the first time he’d ever done this. He’d never pleasured himself before.

Not once. If you thought about it (and you did, often), Damian seemed too prude and impersonal to satisfy himself that way. It was more in character for him to beat on a punching bag for a couple hours instead of destressing... like this.

You locked your surprised gasp in your throat, arm jerking to slam the door. A thousand apologies came to mind. But you couldn’t lie to yourself.

It was hot, and you wanted to watch.

This, of course, was right when Damian noticed you. Before you could blink, he was across the room, the towel was around his waist again and he was snarling at you, face explosively red. Damian cursed in Arabic. He moved to slam the door in your face, spitting in shame, but you were in the way of the frame. It felt like your feet were glued to the floor.

Your boyfriend, with his moist muscles, his sexy scars, getting a hard on for you... Thinking about you a little too deeply in the shower, and emerging to resolve it himself... Damian had only gotten turned on with you once before - you’d been making out, hands in each other’s shirts and tongues in each other’s mouths, only for him to suddenly bolt up and disappear. You wondered what he’d been thinking about. Or even better, who.

Stupidly, you asked, “...Were you just masturbating?”

“No, I was battling Clayface,” Damian snapped. “What do you think I was doing, L/N?”

“Wait!” You yelped, but you couldn’t understand why he’d want to. “Was... Is this your first time doing that?”

Damian glared at you hard enough to steamroll you, shame leaking out of his pores. If you dared to look between you - and you did - he was still painfully hard, and so, so big. Drool pooled into your mouth without your permission, and you had to audibly swallow it to be able to speak again. When Damian realized where you’d peeked, he blanched. He was still soaking wet. (You probably were, too).

He shuffled in place, and did something that surprised you. Damian avoided your eyes. “Why should you care? And - and what are you even doing here?”

“You texted me that you missed me last weekend. You wanted to teach me chess, and I think you said that we could talk about the book we’re reading together,” you babbled. “We... we made plans for today? It’s okay if you don’t remember... um, it looks like you had a very hard day...”

To help your predicament, you added with a sigh, “...Very hard.”

Damian cleared his throat. He put a hand on the doorframe beside you, bicep raised by your face. “...I - I did. Miss you.”

Again, you gestured to his towel. “I can tell.”

He shot you a flat look that very clearly read, not funny. Damian forced himself to stand still, at a total loss for words beyond that point. To you, it looked like an opening.

“Maybe I could...” you hooked your finger into the waist of his towel, moving deeper into his space, “help you with that?”

Damian smelled like pure sex. Beneath that was his heady bodywash and shampoo, which floated off him like his humidity did, intoxicating and full of flavor. It was like stepping into the radius of a love spell. You already loved Damian, but the heat coming off of him made you want to show him how much.

His expression was demure. Damian lifted his chin to snatch up his remaining dignity, and you didn’t miss his sacrifice of vulnerability. “...Yes. I didn’t... I didn't know what to do.”

Damian’s answer winded you. Your sudden role-reversal was strange, but the newness was welcome. Usually, you were the embarrassed one that Damian was teaching, so an opportunity to teach him - especially about something like this - seemed irresistible. And Damian admitting that he wasn’t equipped for something? He might as well have dropped down on one knee and given you a ring.

“Then let me teach you.”

He allowed you to slide past him, and quietly, aware of his self-indulgence, shut the door with a click. Damian shuffled back to his bed and sat down, chewing his lip. As cute as he was when nervous, you wanted him to enjoy this, so you gifted him a warm, sweet kiss before you eased your hand around his thigh. Damian returned it with a muffled hum, warmed by the taste.

You both sighed. The stress seem to leave his frame like air out of a beaten balloon, relaxing his back. Still, his fingers twitched at his sides, and only more so when you chased your kiss to your knees and encouraged him to lay back. 

He had the courage to watch, so you found the charisma to ask him, “Comfortable?”

Damian nodded, shy.

“Can I touch you, beautiful?”

Again, Damian closed his eyes and shivered out a gruff yes.

Opening the towel was a gift within itself. Damian’s bulge practically opened it up on it’s own, popping free, unrestrained. If it seemed big before, it was huge in your palm. Just holding it made Damian hiss. His cock was proud and freshly cleaned, begging to be tasted. A string of drool slid off your tongue and pooled around his rosy tip, making Damian gasp and wince. You rolled the wetness down his veiny shaft, reveling in his little noises, the way his toes and fingers curled in delight. Not once did you forget that you were the first person to ever touch him like this - neither did Damian, who looked at you like he would do anything to be touched.

“Like this,” you whispered.

The shape of the tip was made for your mouth. Once he was nice and slick, that was the first place you took him, curling your tongue around his dripping, bulbous head. Damian melted, shoulders first. Taking even a little bit of him into your mouth required your lips to wrap around him, and you sucked until the fit was snug - an inch or two in. Otherwise he hung in your hand, desperate to be squeezed. You closed his shaft in your fist and twisted, hastened by pre-cum and spit, until Damian’s thighs tensed into rock.

Finally, you took his closest hand curled it around his cock. With his knuckles under your palm, you showed Damian how to guide himself into your mouth, and how to do it without you. His chest puttered up and down with every drag, his hand working at a dangerous pace. Soon, he was a pro with enthusiasm. Damian met your mouth with his hand every time.

With a shaken sputter of your name, Damian came. Like a dam, he flooded into your mouth, filling and filling until it felt like you’d drank an entire cup of his cum. It drizzled over your chin and down your neck, which fluttered with every breath and mouthful you gulped down.

“I-I think I understand, now,” Damian said, throat hoarse and breath spent, “but just in case... Would you mind showing me that again?”