#with a million sequels i don’t know why this wasn’t done no excuse

[vendriin]

Vampire Elder Amelia -

Underworld: Evolution (2006)

[ggreactionsandscenarios]

hi can irequest a no.20 for dreamcatcher ot7. Thank you

Dreamcatcher x Reader

Chapitre 1 : Jiu

Prompt n°20 : babysitter

Which one ?

"Seriously mom I'm not a child anymore, I don't need a babysitter !"

"I know you’re not a child but I'm not letting you home alone for a whole week Y/N, I rather have you angry at me than dead."

Your mother sighed as she continued preparing her luggage, your parents were going on a vacation just the two of them for their anniversary. The only problem was that your mom didn't want to let you stay alone at the house.

"Just see this as an opportunity to make new friends, okay ?"

You didn't bother responding, she wasn't listening anymore, her bag under her arm she was already ready to leave.

"So your babysitter is coming tomorrow morning, don't forget to lock the door tonight and unlock it for her to come in the morning. But most of all be nice to her, I'll see you on monday sweety don't be a brat. Bye."

And just like that they were gone, letting you alone for the week. You really hope those vacations won't be horrible and that the babysitter will be cool.

You did enjoyed that lazy afternoon alone sadly it was the first and last of the week because from now on you were going to spend the rest of your holidays with a babysitter.

That's the reason why you were up at 8am and not enjoying the comfort of your bed this morning. As said you had to welcome the new comer and even though you weren't really fond of the idea, you still had manners.

So when that purple hair girl came knocking on your front door you put on a warm smile and opened the door for her to come in.

"Hi, you must be Y/N. I'm Jiu, nice to meet you sweety."

First of all, hold on, where does this girl comes from ? You were actually wondering how in hell could your babysitter be looking that good. As much as you wanted to dislike her, her joyful tone and happy face couldn't go unnoticed.

She was a true beauty indeed but you needed to keep in mind that you were to spend seven days with her and couldn't just look at her like a thirsty dog.

As you had yourself back on track, Jiu was already making pancakes as if she was living there since forever. Not able to say anything you just sat there watching her cook.

From time to time she would look at you and offer you a smile.

“You know, you can come help me rather than stare at me ?”

Say you were embarassed wasn’t even an understatement at this point.

“I’m a terrible cook.”

“That’s only because you didn’t learn from the best. Come here I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You complied after all learning a few things wouldn’t hurt, well that would have been true if you weren’t so clumsy.

“Ouchhh that burn.”

“Oh my god ! Let me look, why on earth did you think it would be okay to take it with your bare hands ? It was literally on the stove few minutes ago Y/N”

Jiu was fast to take your hand and bring you to the sink to put it under cold water. You didn’t know if it was because of how close you were or how she was taking care of you but she somehow was looking even more beautiful right now.

Her brows were furrowed with concern and she was inspecting your hand with the greatest attention. Her hair were falling over her eyes and you couldn’t resist but put it back behind her ear resulting in making her look back at you with a confused face and a slight blush over her cheeks.

You coughed, embarrassed to have done such a thing without thinking.

“Sorry, anyway it’s okay Jiu I think I’ll survive don’t worry about it.” 

It seems like you weren’t the only one to have let your thoughts take control over you, Jiu shaked her head before nooding and withdrawing herself from you a little.

You got the hint and made your way upstairs to your room after lunch, finding some excuse to escape the tense atmosphere that had took place in your kitchen.

Later Minji came get you out of your room, she was feeling slightly guilty for yelling at you earlier. You, on the other hand were too busy overthinking the way you react to being close to the girl to mind the lecture she gave you.

Was that falling at first sight ?

"Hey Y/N, are you alright ? Can I come in ?"

The timid voice of your babysitter made you realise she must have been knocking several times without you noticing.

"Yeah yeah come in."

When she opened the door, Jiu's eyes were avoiding yours, looking everywhere around your room rather than you.

"Jiu.. ?"

She turned to you, she looked like a puppy being scold. Her eyes were glistening waiting for you to snap at her.

"Why are you crying ?"

In no time the sobs indeed escaped her mouth and she rushed to your side. Her head finding the crack of your neck to hide into.

"Don't be mad at me ! I'm sorry for yelling at you, I..I was just worried and you were hurting and.."

"Wow easy there, you thought I was mad at you ? I was never angry, I was embarrassed that's all."

She looked at you from below before clearing her throat. Her cheeks painted in a bright shade of pink.

"Oh.. hehe okay I'll let you alone then, sorry."

She was about to go back downstairs when you had a urge to keep her from doing so. After all you had a week to spend together so you better learn to spend time together without burning your hand or being embarrassed by her closeness.

"Wait ! Do you want to play Uno or something ?"

"Sure !"

You ended up downstairs playing until late, she crushed you at Uno, she was distracting you to be fair or else you would have won.

"I think it's time to head to bed Y/N, it was nice playing with you but I'm leaving early tomorrow."

You were confused.

"Are you going grocery shopping ? I can go with you if you want ?"

It was Jiu's turn to look at you funny.

"I'm leaving tomorrow Y/N, didn't your mom told you ?"

"Told me what ? Where are you going ?"

"I was your babysitter only for today. Your mom decided to choose seven person to take care of you for a week, each one of us having a day to show her what we got. In the end you'll choose the one you like the most."

"What ?! But we were just getting to know each other !"

"I know, but you know if you want to learn more you'll just have to choose me Y/N."

You were already confused by the odd plan your mom put up but the way Jiu whispered that last part in your ear wasn't helping you process anything either.

That night you got to bed decided to choose Jiu whatever happens in the next days. She was one in a million type of girl and you had that huge crush on her by now. There was no way anyone could get to her level.

Hey, as I told you I'm making it a 7 chapter request one for each members. So here is finally Jiu's which keep disappearing from my draft for some reasons. Anyway I hope you like the first one fron the sequel, give feedback 😊-Ael

[darthkruge]

Could you write a cute sequel to the Padawan! Anakin and Padawan! Reader oneshot, where they have a secret wedding two years later?

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Can I Kiss You? (Pt 2)

Summary: Two years after their first kiss, Padawan!Anakin and Padawan!Reader return to the gardens of Naboo for their wedding

Warnings: Nothing. Once again, this is fluff. A bit more emotions thrown in this time, but cute fluff nonetheless!

Words: 1.6k

A/N: I can’t believe someone requested a sequel for one of my fics!! That’s so exciting!! The first part is one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written and I hope I did justice with the second <3. Also! You don’t need to have read the first part to understand this. But I do think it makes it more fun, as I kinda tied them together :)

Part 1

gif credit

“Can you believe we made it?” 

Anakin’s voice broke you out of your trance. You were sitting on the grass and leaning against him, head resting on his shoulder with his arms hugging you from behind. The palace’s gardens once again surrounded you; the familiar fresh, flowery scent intoxicating. 

You hummed, turning your head up and looking at him. He looked down at you and smiled. 

“Hi,” His voice held his laughter, teasing.

“Hi,” You replied, mirroring his happiness. 

You connected your lips with his, both of you grinning into the kiss. His metal hand came up, fingers gently holding your jaw as he deepened the kiss. Your mind wandered, remembering your first kiss. Here. 

You were pulled back to the present as his tongue gently swiped across your lower lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him access. As he swirled his tongue around yours, your head spun. Your hands wove into his hair and pulled on the back of it lightly, making him groan into you. You smirked, loving the effect you had on him. He grabbed your waist, pulling you around so that you were straddling his thighs. You broke from his lips, trailing kisses up and down the side of his neck. 

Missing the feeling of your lips, he pulled you back up, reconnecting them with his own. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you couldn’t anymore, breaking apart only once you were positively breathless. You leaned your forehead against his, chests heaving as you relaxed.

“We’re gonna be late for our own ceremony if you keep distracting me like that” 

You lightly smacked his chest, throwing your head back and gaping in mock-offense. “Now who’s the one that shoved their tongue down my throat?”

“Well I guess that’d have to be me… considering you haven’t kissed anyone else…” He trailed off, looking at you somewhat sheepishly to gauge your reaction

“Anakin! That is rude! And unkind! And completely accurate, you kriffing asshole!” You said, laughing the entire time. Anakin joined in, sighing in relief when he realized you weren’t mad at him. 

“Rude and unkind? I’d say that’s slightly dramatic, Y/N”

“And where do you think I picked up the dramatic flair, hmm?” You shot back, quirking your eyebrows and glaring at him playfully.

Anakin rolled his eyes but, intelligently, didn’t argue. He just chuckled, pulling you back in for another kiss. You obliged but quickly pulled away, laughing as he pouted at you.

“Now, come on! We’re going to be late for our own ceremony if you keep distracting me like that!” You said, mocking him.

You got up and started skipping away before he could retort, smiling as you heard his footsteps scrambling to catch up with you. He pulled your hand into his, leaning down to press a fleeting kiss against your cheek. 

He pulled you forward and you laughed as he stopped to spin you around. Your breath caught as you felt yourself tripping over your own feet and squealed as you came in contact with Anakin’s strong chest.

You buried your face into him and he rubbed up and down your arms. As he peppered kisses into your hair, you did the same on his collarbone. Moments like this were what you wished you could live in forever. Just two people in love. Without the pressure of the Jedi, the Council, any of it. You wished you didn’t need to hide your relationship, your happiness. But you truly believed that any sacrifice would be worth keeping Anakin in your life. 

It had taken months of planning to even get the time to slip away with Anakin. Luckily, the Council thought you and Anakin worked well together and frequently allowed you to go on missions together. Granted, you both usually ended up in front of the Council trying to justify why you disobeyed their orders on these missions. Even if it was your idea, Anakin would always try to take the blame, despite you constantly telling him it was unnecessary. However, Anakin did have a point when he said that he was the Chosen One; they wouldn’t expel him from the order because of a series of poor decisions. He said that even if you didn’t have the Council’s protection, you could count on his.

To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. That’s why those fights never lasted. Most of your fights were like that. Silly, stupid arguments that almost always boiled down to the fear of losing each other. And, by the next morning, you were always curled back in bed together, unable to bear the idea of being apart. 

“Y/N?” 

You looked up, shaking yourself out of your own head.

“Yeah?”

Anakin looked at you quizzically. “You alright, my love?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded. “Perfect.”

You were about to marry the most perfect man in the entire world. Kind, beautiful, giving, protective, understanding, flawed, yours. As if “perfect” even began to describe how you were feeling. You weren’t sure anything could. When you joined the Jedi Order, you never thought you’d get this. Love. And yet, here you were. 

Anakin leaned in, kissing your nose. “Me, too,” He whispered in your ear.

You walked up to the secluded altar where Obi-Wan, R2D2, and C3-PO stood. You thanked the stars for Obi-Wan; he had done so much to ensure that your secret stayed that way and you could successfully marry the love of your life. 

You stood, looking at Anakin. He held your hands and you gave his a squeeze. It was a signal that had developed over the years; whenever one of you needed reassurance or just wanted to remind them that you loved them, you’d squeeze the other’s hand. As per usual, he immediately returned the gesture. 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Y/N, would you like to go first?”

You looked at him, mouthing a quick “thank you” and nodding. He smiled right back. Obi-Wan had become a good friend of yours over the years. You were quite grateful that he was here on this wondrous day. 

You took a deep breath, looking into Anakin’s deep eyes. “Anakin, when I first met you I thought you were reckless, arrogant at times, insubordinate…” You trailed off as he gave you an amused look, clearly wondering where you were going with this. 

“Gorgeous,” You added in, “and, truly, so much more. Now, while I still think of you that way, I’ve grown to love it. You inspire me, you believe in me, you understand me in a way that I thought was impossible for one person to understand another. You’re strong and loving and you always keep me safe. You make me laugh and smile and giddy and… happy. I still remember, two years ago, when you made me choke an apple and kissed me, all in one day. And that feeling I had when our lips first touched, it has remained, constant, since that moment. I want to spend my life with you. And I don’t want to put that off for another second.”

Anakin’s eyes were misty with tears by the time you finished speaking. It was hard for him to fathom -- that he’d found someone who cared about him that much. For once in his life, he believed that there was someone who wouldn’t leave. 

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a knowing smile before asking him to begin.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You’re perfect, you’re… everything. You challenge me, by the Maker, you challenge me,” Anakin said as you chuckled, nodding in agreement. “And you’re strong and good and selfless. You’ve always seen the good in me, sometimes even when  I didn’t deserve it. You sought to know me for who I am, not for what I could bring to the galaxy.” Anakin paused, looking into your eyes. He swallowed, long and hard, before going on. 

“And I know this wasn’t the relationship you dreamed of. I know I can’t give you much of anything. But I promise that for the rest of our lives I will be right here, by your side. I will love you for as long as this life allows, and for a thousand after that.” 

Tears streaked down both your cheeks, making everything else fade away. The weight of his words sat heavily on your heart; his love for you so powerful it was nearly overwhelming. But that seemed to be a theme in your relationship, didn’t it? Everything right on that edge, so close to falling apart. And yet you and Anakin balanced each other. You wouldn’t crumble. 

You once again traveled back to when all this started. You remember thinking, perhaps foolishly, that you and Anakin would make it. That one in a million couple. You thanked the entire galaxy that you were right.

You looked at Obi-Wan only to see that he was grinning at the both of you. He’d had his suspicions about you two for months before he eventually caught you kissing after you returned from a long mission. Anakin swore up and down that he “fell on you” and was “tending to your injuries” but Obi-Wan just brushed away the excuses and assured the both of you he would keep your secret. 

“You may now… kiss each other. If you so desire,” Obi-Wan said before averting his eyes.

Anakin looked at you, adoration clear in his vision. He held your gaze and gently cupped your cheek. “So… can I kiss you?”

You rolled your eyes, laughed, and leaned in. 

-----

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[thinkingimmensely]

Before Dinner (Charlie Weasley x Reader/MC | Bill Weasley x Reader/MC (onesided)

A/N: Hi guys! It’s been forever! So the pandemic’s still a thing and I’ve been coping with nothing else but games. (It has also been a while since I last played Hogwarts Mystery huhu) So, as you can tell, I haven’t been writing lately and I’m rusty as hell but this was in my drafts and when I read it again, I realized it was almost finished, and I’ve got some inspiration from listening to TSwift’s evermore album. So tadah!

This could be read as a sequel of After Breakfast or as a stand-alone. This happens way before Bill meets Fleur, and I like to imagine that he’s been hung up on our cursebreaker until then.   

I sure hope all of you are well out there and staying safe!  

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything in the Potterverse!

———————————————

Sweat beaded down his forehead as he blasted the practice dummy with Incendio again. It was one of his best spells, and it was also the first spell he taught her.

BLAST!

Every little memory they had together during their time in Hogwarts replayed in his head, particularly on the time when he asked her if he was her favorite Weasley brother. She had flushed then, totally caught off guard, saying she hadn’t even met all his brothers yet. He really wished he was her favorite.

BLAST!

“Bill we want to tell you something-“

BLAST!

The dummy swayed and nearly toppled over as the spell struck right home but eventually regained its balance as expected.

“You trying to kill that thing?”

He stopped and turned to the owner of the voice– Charlie; his younger brother, best friend, and the person he’d absolutely do anything for. He was fiddling with his wand as he approached, his brown eyes unsure.

Bill wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt and tried to catch his breath; he hadn’t realized he was out of breath until now. “Where’s Y/N?” It was surprising to see the two apart after they had decided to announce their joyous news after breakfast earlier. A wedding with him as witness, and it was to take place tomorrow. Bloody hell.

Joyous... it was supposed to be joyous, but why did Bill feel anything but joy?

“She’s writing a letter to the old gang back at the cottage.” Charlie replied nonchalantly. “Are you okay?” He immediately followed up, dropping the previous topic.

Bill raised a brow at him. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno,” His brother shrugged, “maybe because you look like you could murder someone right now?”

Bill sighed and looked down at the ground for a moment in thought. Was he really that obvious?

Charlie bit his lower lip nervously, “Is this about the family? I know it’s sudden and mom would probably hate me for not telling her, let alone inviting them all but I didn’t want to pressure Y/N.” His shoulders slumped, “I don’t want her to feel like she has to live up to any wedding expectations and invite people she doesn’t like to keep up appearances.”

Oh, of course Charlie didn’t know. He shouldn’t be surprised though since his brother was so painfully oblivious most of the time that it took him years to realize his feeling for Y/N; but he wasn’t one to talk either since he’s practically the same.

He could tell him. But he wouldn’t. He knew how deeply Charlie felt for her, and he knew he’d probably never feel that way about another person ever again.

Patting his younger brother on the shoulder, he mustered out the sincerest smile he could, “It’s nothing Charlie, just worried I might be losing my curse breaking partner is all.”

Charlie let out a sigh of relief and chuckled, pushing his arm lightly. “You’re impossible.” The both of them shared a laugh and after what seemed like a couple of minutes Charlie let out a small smile, “You’re never going to lose her... I mean, she’s going off to Egypt right after.”

Bill raised a brow at that. He assumed the couple would want to spend at least a week more together. Before he could question it further though, Charlie had already excused himself when Y/N stood by the doorway of the cottage. He watched as his brother took full strides to reach her immediately, they smiled at each other and exchanged a couple of words before Charlie went inside.

Y/N turned her attention to him then and he could feel something inside him quench. As she approached him, with a totally different demeanor than Charlie did earlier, she looked breathtakingly happy with a smile that reached from ear to ear, her bright eyes twinkling with delight, and a light skip in her step. “Hey, you.” She greeted when she reached him and her smile was so contagious that he couldn’t help but let out his own.

“Hey, you.” He answered, noticing how giddy she looked. “Done writing those letters?”

She bobbed her head up and down, “Yeah, they’ll no doubt flip when they receive it.” She started to chortle.

Bill grinned at her, yeah he could just picture the old gang doing just that; he wouldn’t even be surprised if one of them showed up out of the blue tomorrow for the occasion. Silence hung between them and he noticed Y/N biting her lower lip, anxiously swaying around on her heel.

“Want to talk? I reckon we can spare a few words before dinner.”

She immediately nodded her head so they stalked off towards one of the few uprooted tree trunks (courtesy of Norberta according to Charlie) and sat down. The crickets had just started to ring out and they looked at the pink and orange hues of the sky as the sun slowly drifted off for the night. Smoke escaped the stone chimney of the cottage; Charlie must’ve started making dinner.

Bill sighed and ran a hand through his no doubt, messy ginger locks in an attempt to tame it, but it just stuck to his still sweaty forehead. Y/N must’ve noticed his plight because she dug out a handkerchief from the pocket of her jeans and handed it to him together with one of her elastic bands around her wrist.

He immediately tied his hair back into a ponytail, wiping his forehead with the handkerchief and pocketed it.

She gave him a look and he raised a brow in question. She shook her head, “Nothing.”

He nudged her with his elbow, “Come on, I know that look, I’ve seen it a million times. What’s on your mind?” He did pride himself in knowing a lot about her, maybe sometimes even more than Charlie, and it brought him some sort of comfort.

She breathed deeply, “I just can’t believe we’re really doing this. My mind’s still reeling. I mean, what if we’re heading into this too fast without really thinking it through?”

If she only knew that his mind was reeling as well. Putting on his best older brother facade, he placed a hand on her shoulder in encouragement. “It’ll be fine Y/N. Charlie and you... you’re two pieces of a puzzle. Besides, both of you are head over heels with each other even during our Hogwarts years, so it’s not exactly a surprise to see the both of you decide to settle down early.”

“What? Charlie did not like me back at Hogwarts.” She laughed as she shook her head, “It was always dragons with him. However frustrating it was, it’s part of his charm.”

“Ha! Please, Charlie liked you even if he didn’t realize it. I mean, other than dragons, he only talked about you for most of the time.” He saw the blush rush to her face with that newfound knowledge

His words seemed to do the trick as he saw her visibly relax and flash a smile at him. “You’re the best, Bill.” She pulled him into a hug and though surprised, he found himself hugging her back.

“You know you’ve always got me.” He told her through the cracks forming in his heart.

They were family now and she would be the best sister-in-law he could ever have asked for. 

The hug didn’t seem to last long enough as she pulled away. She soon stood up, signaling the end of their conversation and so he did too. 

Was he still smiling? He didn’t know, and if he wasn’t, Y/N chose not to comment. “You know I’ve always got your back too.” She said before the both of them slowly made their way back to the cottage.

“Y/N-” He called out to her just before they reached the doorway. Y/N stopped and turned back to him, raising a brow in question. “You should take another week off after the wedding, I’ll cover for you at work so you don’t have to worry.” 

She beamed at him which made everything worth it. If she only knew he’d do anything for her. “Did I tell you that you’re the best?” 

He grinned, “You did earlier actually,” He moved ahead and opened the door for her, “but I don’t mind hearing it again often.” 

She let out a hearty laugh and playfully struck him on the chest. “Oh, you!” She went inside, running her boots on the welcome mat. “Charlie! Guess what!” She called out and proceeded to the kitchen where her fiancé was waiting for them. 

Bill shook his head and let out a soft chuckle.

Y/N may not be his ever after but he was glad that Charlie, and not anyone else, was hers.

———————————————

Related Stories: No Expectations | After Breakfast

Permanent Taglist:

@oreofrappiewithblueberry , @coffeeismylife28

[salt-warrior]

RISE FROM THE ASHES

A When Earth Turns to Ashes sequel

Masterlist

Chapter Fourteen: The Consequences of Love

Kai cried out as the warm caress of fire etched it way up his back. For one, there was the pain of it. And for another, there were the memories. The ones of burning to a crisp. The ones that felt like dreams he wasn't supposed to wake up from.

But almost immediately, the flames flickered out, leaving him panicked, but relatively unscathed. He could still feel the heat from where the conflagration had grazed him, but it was more of an agitating sort of pain— one felt after holding one's hands above a fire for too long. There had been no damage done to his person.

Cinder, on the other hand, had an expression that conveyed only her own personal destruction.

She stumbled away from him, hand clasped over her mouth as sobs began to pour out of her. Her back hit the wall and she slid to the floor, staring at Kai all the while, terror carved into her expression and horror engraved upon her soul. Cinder watched him from the floor in the seconds it took for Kai to regain his composure.

He made a move toward her, but she thrust her hands at him in a motion of warding off an attacker and screamed. He froze. She dropped her arms. They stared at one another.

"Cinder," Kai said, his voice low and hesitant. She flinched, dropping her hands to cover her face. "Cinder, please don't freak out. Nothing happened. We're fine. It's fine."

She didn't move. Neither did he.

"Cinder, please."

"You got burned," Cinder whispered.

"No, I didn't."

"You cried out. You screamed."

"I was shocked," Kai said. "I wasn't expecting it. It was only a startled response."

"And I caused it."

"No."

"Yes," Cinder said, eyes full of tears. Her nose twitched and she licked at her lips, as if trying to find words there. Her arms folded tight over her midsection. "I scared you, Kai." She leaned forward, her face turned up toward his. "I scared you. Me. I scared you."

"It's not your fault," Kai said, falling to his knees before her. He didn't touch her, but his face was inches away from her own. "You didn't mean to. It's not you—"

"Stars, Kai," Cinder spat, jerking away from Kai. "I hurt you, I scared you, and you're making excuses for me? Can't you see how unbelievably toxic this has become?"

Kai stared at her, stunned. They had their faults most definitely. Things had been more difficult than usual over the past month between his father dying and this new ghost haunting Cinder. But had their relationship become toxic?

Cinder continued, "You're making excuses for me hurting you, Kai. You're—"

"No, you're taking the blame for something out of your power," Kai said. "You're just scared. Too scared to stick this out."

"Scared to stick this out?" Cinder gasped, her face twisted. "Taking the blame for something that's not my fault? It is my fault, Kai. She's my mother. She's killed two of the people I love. Three, really. She killed you last year, Kai. She killed you." Cinder pulled her knees up to her chest. She looked small. Too small. More like a child waiting out a thunderstorm than a woman haunted by the ghosts of her past.

"We don't even know if it's her."

"But we do!" Cinder exclaimed. "There's no other explanation. The Lemuralia Phantoms can have human power sources. The ghost haunting me uses fire, and she only comes when I'm around."

"And me."

"What?"

"It comes when I'm around, too," Kai said. "Have you ever stopped to consider that it could be me? That Cress was right in her first assumption of a poltergeist?"

"You couldn't," Cinder snarled.

"And how are you supposed to know what I can or cannot do?"

"You just couldn't."

Kai grabbed at his hair, frustration taking over. "Why are you so insistent upon playing the victim?"

"The victim?" Cinder's voice dropped. "If anything, I'm the villain, Kai. The one who's screwed your life over too many times to count. The one that you should be running screaming from."

"But I'm not."

"So what does that make you?" Cinder spat.

Kai froze, cheeks coloring. He didn't know why, but the words stung. Almost as if she had called him something obscene.

She saw the change and shut her eyes tight, fists clenched. She inhaled deeply. He couldn't stop examining her— waiting for the moment that she would bolt. Because she was Cinder, and that's all she knew how to do: run. Run away from her problems, from the things tormenting her, from love. Because they were all frightening, and every ounce of her courage had been spent on existing.

"I can't stay here, Kai. You know that. Though you won't admit it to yourself, it's a relief, letting me go. It will hurt—" Cinder's voice broke, "—but it will be for the best. For both of us."

"No," Kai said, the ferocity of his love and his insistent stubbornness getting the better of him.

"Kai—"

"No," Kai repeated. "Cinder, you don't just get to call it quits here. You don't get to just run away from what's going on until we actually know what's going on. This ghost, or whatever the hell it is, we don't know if it's haunting you. It could be mine. Maybe it's my dad, or—"

"Your dad couldn't be a ghost. He didn't die a violent, unnatural death. You couldn't create a poltergeist either," Cinder cut in. "It's me. I'm the problem."

"Or maybe it's neither of us," Kai finished, shooting a glare at Cinder. "Maybe there's something else going on here and you're acting prematurely."

"You're acting like I'm going to go throw myself off a building."

"Maybe because you're acting like you just might."

Cinder huffed, then abruptly got to her feet. She began to pace the apartment, periodically bringing her hands up to her face or grumbling to herself. Then she turned to Kai, pointing down into his face. "Me wanting to get away from you does not equate to me wanting to end my life. It's just... distance might be the only thing that will keep whatever this is away."

"But if you leave, we may never discover what's haunting you," Kai argued. "And then you'd live the rest of your life on the run. Is that what you want?"

Cinder groaned. She put her hands at the base of her neck and pulled down, as if she could drag herself down to the very depths of hell. "We're running in circles here, and you can't seem to understand that there's a problem here that's bigger than our relationship."

"Nothing is bigger than the two of us."

"Your life is."

Kai sank to the floor. There was a terrible ache pulsing within him, as if his sadness had its own heartbeat. Or perhaps it was his heart, tapping out his misery, not wanting him to miss the horrible feeling it was to feel love slipping from one's fingers.

He knew that Cinder was right— of course she was. No relationship was worth one's mortality. But if that was so, then why did he care so little for his own life and so much for his love of Cinder? For her, he would die a thousand deaths, light up in flames a million times, take his final breath by her side every moment of his existence. Because she was all he cared for.

She was the girl he had saved— the one who had saved him in return. Because that's what they did— they saved one another. Only this time, it seemed that their only means of safety was separation.

"I don't know how to live without you," Kai whispered. He leaned his head back against the wall, unashamed as tears trickled from his eyes. "I don't know how to do it, Cinder. First my mother, then my father. Now... you. I can't do it."

"I know," Cinder said, crouching down beside him this time. She planted her hands on either side of his face. "It's not easy for me either, you know."

"Then why are you doing it?" Kai practically sobbed. He stared up into her eyes with earnest, the pulse of aching throbbing through his very soul. "Why are you leaving?"

"Because I love you."

"Is that why you leave everyone? Because that's the only way you know how to love?"

Cinder smiled bitterly. "No," she sighed. "I'm leaving because I know what happens if I don't. I understand the consequences of my love."

Kai searched her eyes for any regret, but found none. It didn't make it any easier to let her go. Because while she did not appear regretful, there was mourning in her gaze. There was sadness, and a sort of loneliness that only the abandoned could feel. It hurt her to leave him, just as it tore him apart to be left behind, but she would not regret it.

"What will I do?" Kai asked. "What am I supposed to do? I can't just move on."

"I know," Cinder said. "But you have to. At least try."

"Just give it more time," Kai pleaded, though he knew it was pointless. He wasn't going to give up on her without a fight, but he could feel the effort of trying to keep her from catching up with him. They'd been fighting this battle for far too long, and she was by far the more experienced warrior. "It hasn't hurt me. Really."

Cinder laughed, though there was no humor to it. "Kai, the back of your shirt is nearly gone. That's not escaping unscathed."

"I'm not hurt," Kai hissed. "Please."

Cinder dropped her hands from his face and stood abruptly. Her face twitched, presumably with the effort of trying not to cry, though no tears escaped. She simply stared at him, her face blotchy and her expression beyond destroyed. She was a woman who had given her all and found nothing left, no semblance of herself, not even a ghost.

Without hesitation, Cinder walked away from him and into their bedroom. He heard her moving swiftly, packing items she would need for wherever she went. It was dark outside, but he knew it wouldn't deter her from leaving. Nothing could stop Cinder.

Mere minutes later, she walked out of the room with her backpack slung over her shoulder. A lump rose in Kai's throat, and suddenly, it hit him. She was leaving him. Not just going to work, but leaving. Abandoning him perhaps forever. And he couldn't bear the idea.

He moved to stand in front of the door, like a pathetic child begging their parents to stay. Because he would fight for her until his heart stopped beating and his soul ceased to be.

"Kai," Cinder said, approaching him with her hands up. "You have to let me go."

"I can't."

A burst of light flared up between the two of them, causing Cinder's eyes to appear more gold than brown, as if she were a being not known to mankind. The flames made her look they way she had the first time Kai had laid eyes on her: like the Angel of Hell.

Kai fell to the ground, unable to quench the fear that burned within him at the sight of the flames. He stared at them in all their glory, watching the unnaturalness of them— the way they floated in the air, fed by nothing.

And when they vanished, Kai was alone.

Tags: @shellyseashell @cinderswrench @healing-winston-pratt @just2bubbly @silverstars21 @gingerale2017 @greasicookies  @the-wee-woo-rita @zephyr-thedragon @bookpapaya @cindersassasin @the-jewel-of-ketterdam

[thejustmaiden]

Heyo, fellow Inuyasha fans! Happy Friday! This particular blog will serve as a collection of random thoughts I’ve been mulling over lately. Hope you’ll consider giving it a read. By the way, it’ll specifically pertain to the Sessrin ship. If that’s not something that is of interest to you, then no need to read any further. Whatever happens, I wanted to get this out before the sequel. Alrighty, let’s go! 

I’m not sure many of us realize just how much fiction sparks public dialogue and shapes culture. There have been countless studies and research done to prove it, therefore this really isn’t up for debate. What the real question here should be is have we taken the time to fully contemplate and assess just how much fictional experiences are able to change or influence our perspective on real, everyday life? The visual arts are just one of many evolutionary adaptations that serve to give us more insight into one another’s mind. If our outlook on fiction contrasts with said insight, then perhaps some re-evaluating is in order.  

Powerful works of literature such as 1984 and the beloved Harry Potter series are just two examples. George Orwell’s book contributed strongly to how readers viewed government and politics during that time, and to this day it’s a book that resonates with many. As much as Harry Potter is cherished all across the world, there are religious and academic institutions that condemn it or have even gone so far as to ban it. I may not agree with the extreme measures taken, but it’s fascinating nonetheless to witness the extent to which fiction can move and mobilize people for a cause.

The takeaway is that indicating fiction doesn’t have the power to create change in our everyday lives is misleading to say the least. So how exactly then can fictional stories that are, after all, completely made up affect society in such profound ways? It all lies in the power of the psychology of fiction. According to cognitive psychologist and novelist, Keith Oatley, who’s been researching the psychological effects of fiction for over a decade, he states that engaging with stories about other people can improve empathy and theory of mind. When we identify with these characters’ struggles, we begin to share their frustration for societal problems that plague them. These types of stories tap into our emotions more so than- believe it or not- nonfiction, and thus their effects inspire us and even have the ability to alter our worldviews. 

I’ll be returning to that specific topic a bit later, but moving on for now!

It’s safe to say that I speak on behalf of the majority of antis. That being said, I first want to add that we are aware that sessrin shippers claim to agree that there was nothing inherently romantic that took place between Rin and Sesshomaru during their travels together. The thing is we have trouble believing you guys when you time and time again provide contradictory statements to defend your stance.

Voicing things like, “all signs point to Rin” and “it’s been foreshadowed” sends the exact opposite message of what you supposedly stand for and, if anything, confirms that you’ve had romance on your mind long before it would’ve been acceptable to come out with openly. You can’t just go along with what we say when it’s convenient to your argument and then back it up later with “who else but Rin.” How can the relationship you’re imagining be so obvious if they didn’t hint at it for the whole duration of the original series like we agreed upon? Elaborate on how we could’ve possibly come to such wildly different conclusions when we started AND left off with the same views for and throughout the series. 

On top of that, making the excuse that we don’t speak for adult!Rin and that she has the right to make her own decisions once she’s old enough is a weak defense. Firstly, because we haven’t even met her. Secondly, because it’s unfair of you to assert that you know what’s best for Rin and then say we’re not allowed to just because it doesn’t align with your beliefs. I get that you feel protective over her character, but do recall that this adult version of her none of us have actually met yet. We have no idea what kind of woman she’s become, what her dreams or aspirations may be, and whether she’s married or even wants to be. I’m not against the idea of her falling in love, I just don’t think it’ll be with Sesshomaru. I guess I’m also a fan of the idea of her following in Kaede’s footsteps, because if anyone can grow up to be an independent, trusted, and wise leader of the community like her it’s Rin.

To make matters worse, way too many of you continue to celebrate the drama cd and profess that it was sweet that Sesshomaru basically promised he’d wait for Rin all while somehow ignoring the glaring grooming implications. Why do you only see what you want to see and fail to acknowledge that actual child grooming scenarios do in fact play out like this in real life? A high percentage of people who have been victims of grooming can attest to this. If Sessrin does go canon, all the sequel succeeded in doing to avoid the direct correlation with grooming was skip over the more questionable and dodgy portions of it. Take out the time jump, however, and you no longer have a loophole to cover up the scary unmistakable truth, which is that Sessrin and grooming are essentially one in the same.

No one case is identical to another so please don’t come to me with your “but how is it grooming if Sesshomaru didn’t manipulate Rin” refutes. Nobody knows what the hell went on during those years between The Final Act and this upcoming sequel. Based on everything exhibited so far- that is if we decide to recognize the drama cd like so many of you choose to do- Sessrin’s dynamic is eerily reminiscent of real life child grooming. Why else do you think a lot of us fans have a huge problem with it? It’s triggering for a reason. 

Let’s be honest, Sesshomaru’s supposed love confession could’ve just been the first of many gestures like it. Who really knows, right? According to you shippers, a major shift in their relationship took place sometime during this critical period none of us got to watch unfold. I’m sure you all have explored the various ways this would’ve gone down in fan fiction and through other creative means of expression. Not to spoil the fun, but all I can’t help but wonder about is just how many of those supposed “cute moments” would’ve been as creepy and cringey as that proposal. Hundreds of thousands (possibly millions?!) of fans would undoubtedly agree with me, too. It seems to me this ain’t due to a mere difference of opinion. Taste is one thing, ethics a whole other. 

By the way, in case you didn’t know, groomers don’t necessarily need to plan out every single move in order for their behavior to constitute as grooming. What we should be paying attention to instead is the fact that Sesshomaru made a conscious decision to act on his own selfish desire for a young girl who couldn’t have possibly known in that moment the magnitude of what he was asking of her. Why is it that a vulnerable Rin is put in a position that forces her to be the one responsible for making such a big, life-changing decision for the both of them? Yes, Sesshomaru gave her the choice and, yes, she doesn’t have to make it till later, but why on Earth is he coming to her with this well before a child her age is ready and mature enough to handle it? Even if his intentions are good (broadly speaking of course), his what you shippers probably call “innocent acts” are incidentally coercing Rin into reciprocating his feelings. Whether he planned for that or not, he’s at fault. Period. 

That’s one way the power imbalance works. A child wants nothing more than to please the adult they look up to and adore, because they’re impressionable like that. Maybe Rin processes this like she’ll want whatever he wants, so that’s what she trains herself to believe- either right then and there or over time. Plus, if you really think about it, why wouldn’t she trust him if in her eyes he’s been nothing but good to her and that’s all she’s ever really known? (Psst! Charm is integral to the manipulative nature of grooming so it’s deceiving AKA manipulation can come off as praise or flattery.) Bottom line is that Rin is too young to have to think about this kind of deep stuff at all, and Sesshomaru shouldn’t have taken advantage of the power he had/has over her to influence a decision she was by no means prepared to hear about much less decide on. Your headcanons seem to imply that she’ll eventually have to choose though, and Idk about you but I rather not push my own fantasy agenda onto a underage girl regardless of how much I want it. Idc if she’s fictional, it wouldn’t feel right so why would I want to see that? My principals couldn’t ever allow for it.   

Even if it wasn’t an official proposal, per se, it’s still disturbing to me that so many of you find joy in the thought of a grown adult male essentially waiting for a young girl HE KNEW to become old enough before pursuing her. I know this drama cd ain’t technically canon, y'all, but since this is literally the only source we have that may foreshadow a potential Sessrin to come, and it’s referenced a lot, I figured it still should be called out for exactly what it is- Grooming: 101!!!!

Just as I demonstrated above, fiction has the ability to make even the most inappropriate and uncomfortable situations be viewed in a favorable light when you put the right spin on it. *cough* Lolicon culture, need I say more? *cough* Despite what you may believe, the strategies fiction utilizes to explain themes/concepts can genuinely lead to how we perceive them, and ultimately to how we come to make sense of a similar event presented to us in real life. Especially if we have no prior experience with any of it and have nothing to compare something to, these perceptions can be dangerous yet still persuasive to certain fans- young ones in particular. The more narrative consistency across stories and different mediums, the more likely they’ll influence social beliefs. Minors don’t possess the same capacity as adults to think critically about the content they consume, and if we aren’t more careful about what we put out there then all of us will continue to face serious repercussions.

This is precisely why it’s crucial we persist in our fight against the rabid phenomenon of glorifying young girls in every sexual context imaginable. Just look at what something as seemingly harmless as fiction has the power to do. The scope of fiction is broad and far-reaching, and it’s about time we stop denying that fact and actually do something about it if we have the means to.

The truth of the matter is that we’re in desperate need of proper education and training programs on this issue in our communities. Families need to ensure their children have access to the necessary resources, but it isn’t just on them. ALL of us gotta do our part and ALL of us should be up for the task. It takes a village, right? If we do not properly discuss and address child sexual abuse (CSA) with our children and in public forums, including the internet, then we’re ultimately accepting incidents of CSA should they arise. Consequently, that also translates to indirectly accepting that the predators among us stay untreated and/or unpunished. That’s how the generational and societal aspect of the abuse can continue, and we must do everything in our power to secure our children’s future. Yes, even when it comes to fiction.

If you still somehow don’t think the Sessrin pairing has anything to do with grooming, allow me to break this down for you one more time:

1. If some of your fellow sessrin shippers say that a relationship like this in real life is harmful, then that should be pretty telling in and of itself.

2. Piggybacking off #1: if your only defense to that is “well it’s just fiction,” then you should ask yourself why you can’t ever come up with better reasons. Same goes for history and culture, so please stop using those to justify this relationship. None of the above can or should be applied since it’s already been established that fiction pervades our lives and vice versa.

3. If fellow shippers who are victims of grooming say they are drawn to Sessrin because it allows them in a way to “take back control” from their abuser so that they can better cope with past traumas, then they’re inadvertently admitting that Sessrin does possess qualities associated with the past child sexual abuse they underwent. AKA Sessrin is relatable for its abusive dynamic.

I have to ask by the way, but why do you get so offended when we don’t support your ship anyway? Is it because we interpret it to be controversial and you don’t like your ship getting a bad rap? Is it because it would be insulting to admit that antis actually have a point in it being problematic and you rather double down instead? Or is it because you’re projecting yourself onto Rin and prefer to not go into detail about why that is? Maybe it’s too personal, or maybe it’s because deep down you’re ashamed. Of course that doesn’t mean you’re bad people, but suppressing these kind of negative emotions can’t be healthy for anyone. A little awareness and self-reflection on your part can benefit not just you but all of us in the long run. Cognitive dissonance can suck, but it’s also part of being human. 

I recently came across a comment I’d like to share with you. Unfortunately, this is not the first time nor will it be the last I see the likes of it. Anyway, in it a fan stated how embarrassing it must be being an Anti in this fandom when an episode like “Forever with Lord Sesshomaru” exists. Guys, this shipper and all those who liked their post are showing their true colors. Perpetuating and/or anticipating these sexualized images of young girls is a grave issue in both our society and media alike. I think we can all agree on that, or at least I hope so. It’s remarks like these that prove we still got a long way to go in terms of progress, and if we ever hope to effectively reverse some of our backwards way of thinking. So serious question for ya in regard to this: Why is it too much to ask that grooming be portrayed for what it is? Grooming. To clarify, grooming is bad and needs to be painted in a bad light. It’s as simple as that. If only we could all acknowledge it for what it is, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

Historical accuracy and cultural differences aside, it appears the crux of the matter between Sessrin shippers and Antis is our acceptance and/or denial of fiction’s influence on real life. If we can’t agree on this, then we’ll never agree on anything else. As mentioned earlier, there is more than enough evidence to support the idea that fiction impacts our lives in extraordinary ways. I, for one, believe in the transformative power of stories. I think they do more for us than many of us give them credit for and/or are inclined to admit. 

This is partially why I believe that the majority of sessrin folk are missing the point most of the time. All they do is focus on insignificant and irrelevant information that accomplishes nothing but more gaslighting and strawmanning. Whether it be an intentional or unconscious decision, whatever we argue goes right over their head. All they do is throw around deflections and antagonizing remarks that serve no real purpose other than to make Antis out to be the unreasonable and irrational ones. Making connections between our own lives and our stories is a completely natural and normal occurrence. If those particular shippers insist on denying just how interconnected real life and fiction both are, what that tells me is they’re either out of touch with reality or deliberately choose to be.

Just to be clear, I am of the opinion that most if not all antis aren’t real life predators. If they say they aren’t, I honestly take their word for it. Speaking to Sessrin shipper directly: We know it’s not Sesshomaru you want to be but Rin. No, we’re not calling you pedophiles or groomers. None of us think you are using a fictional ship to attract underage fans to be the Rin in your life or anything of the sort. We are well aware that many of you are self-inserting yourself as Rin, so please don’t feel the need to tell us yourself because that would be stating the obvious.

I learned from a few of you since this sequel was announced that the Sessrin relationship isn’t just a ship but an opportunity for you to confront the person who used and abused you. So there’s two issues with this I’d like to raise. (Sorry if I’m repeating myself, but it’s urgent I stress this again!) This is what I have to say:

If fiction does not affect real life or have the ability to normalize anything as you claim to believe, then why does “fixing” what happened to you via your preferred choice of coping associated with these two characters in the first place? Why bring your past abuse into this at all if at the end of the day it’s “just fiction” and nothing more to you but a source of entertainment?

By confessing that you use Sessrin to cope with your past trauma, you therein reveal that Sessrin does in fact resemble an adult-child relationship with a grooming dynamic. So why then would you want other fans to be exposed to a pairing that brings to mind the very abuse you endured? We’re supposed to stop this toxic cycle- NOT find more ways to manifest and relive it, much less subject other fans to it. 

You may think that Sessrin doesn’t fit the textbook definition of what child grooming is, but that’s not to say it doesn’t embody it or that it doesn’t at the very least have traces of it that stand out. 

“Antis are miserable people who don’t know how to enjoy a good story. It’s just fiction, stop ruining it for other fans!”

Well, no, it’s not just fiction or just a story. Some of you evidently went and proved that yourself, and without my help, by revealing how you relate Sessrin to your own life and apply it to cope with past abuse. Past abuse or not, as far as I can tell we’re all equally invested in these characters. That speaks volumes and just goes to show that fiction touches our lives in long-lasting ways.

I have something I want to say concerning some of who believe that it’s inconsiderate of antis who have been victims of grooming or another form of child abuse to tell other victims who ship Sessrin how they should cope with their trauma. Now as much as I respect the various means victims discover to deal with their painful pasts, there’s always an appropriate time and a place for these things to occur. We must seek out better ways to safely cope with the abuse we lived through (if any) without running the risk of hurting and endangering others. 

There are plenty of fans in other fandoms who don’t try to defend their ships going canon, because they’re able to recognize an unhealthy or toxic pairing when they see one and won’t try to justify it. A Sessrin romance simply does not belong on a show geared towards teens, and I really don’t need to go into detail about why we shouldn’t support it, at least canon-wise. Shipping Sessrin is your right, but if you don’t keep it to yourself and your corner of the fandom then you really shouldn’t be surprised by the opposition. All we ask is you respect that their specific dynamic falls under the category of child grooming (or very close) and should be treated as such in public. The world of fiction may be wider than the world we live in, but that doesn’t always mean “anything goes.” In the creative spaces our minds occupy we must still adhere to the same fundamental and moral guidelines we live by in life. There’s nothing wrong with exploring new terrains and experimenting with ideas, but we must also remember that our stories are all about communicating and connecting with people. So let’s please be more mindful of the sort of messages they’re sending. 

Besides, this isn’t only about you and what makes you feel safe, it’s about all of us. I don’t know how much more I can stress that really. How can thoughts endanger our children, you ask? Well, it’s not like we’re suggesting that our thoughts can jump out of our tvs, materialize themselves, and place kids under mind control. The forces behind fiction are a lot more complex and nuanced than a “monkey see, monkey do” approach, so don’t waste any more time trying to  describe that to us. You’re taking this argument in the wrong direction. 

Take the “violent video games breed killers” theory. I’m afraid you’re misconstruing what we’re saying and then taking it quite too literally. Please stop twisting our words, because nobody on our side is saying that just because you play violent video games that you’ll become a violent person. The Sessrin equivalent of that would be if you ship them then you must be a pedophile or turning into one. *sigh* I know you guys are feeling attacked, but I’m afraid your defensive nature is keeping you from thinking straight. Clearly, there are always exceptions (I’d recommend reading up on the Slender Man case), but Antis aren’t saying you’re one of them.

You see, it’s not so much about the content as it is the notion of the content. Kids and teens who are playing these video games have been informed that killing is wrong, because they grew up learning that early on like the rest of us. No sane person would advocate for violence and nonsensical killing in real life. Since they fully understand the severity of the consequences of killing a person in real life, they are able make a clear distinction between the two. When it comes to killing there is hardly any ambiguity. Sadly, that is far from the truth when it comes to sexualizing girls. It should immediately be perceived as wrong leaving no room for interpretation, and yet here we are still putting up with these inaccurate and demeaning female representations.

Most children who have been groomed don’t realize it till years down the road. If they aren’t ever taught the telltale signs to properly labeling grooming situations, how do you expect them to make sense of and relate to a fictional version? Let’s think of about it from a child’s perspective. Yes, this includes teens who rely pretty heavily on adult guidance and the content we put out there for them. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment and picture that you’ve never had child grooming explained to you (because that’s just the reality for so many unfortunately). Wouldn’t you say it’s possible for them to deduce that what they see on their screens is how they come to discern something in real life, especially if they have little to no experience with it? Perceived realism is plausible, y'all.

What it comes down to in the end is that the ideas and emotions we cultivate behind these stories leave an impression on others. Impressions are capable of influencing the way we see the world, which in turn affects us and beyond just our imagination. The way I look at it, stories contribute to how and why we normalize certain beliefs and trends. If fiction reflects real life like most of us tend to agree, then wouldn’t you say Sessrin is a (in)direct result of this world’s tendency to place young girls in overly sexual or romantic environments? Where do you think fiction draws its inspiration from? Sure, some of it originates from our imagination, but most of what drives us to create these stories is the real world and the people who live in it.

Fiction is meant to mirror reality, but it’s ridiculous to suggest that it’s only a one-way street. That fiction in no way, shape, or form influences our reality? Or that it only works the other way around? With all due respect, that’s simply not true. No productive discourse can be had if we choose to ignore the truth and don’t come together (at least halfway) to tackle the real issues at hand. 

Okay, I think I’ll leave it off there! Thanks so much for reading. I expect this to be my last blog on any topic regarding Inuyasha in the near future. As much as I’ve looked forward to answering all of your asks and writing all the blogs I have over these past almost 5 months, I think it’s best if I spend some time away for now. With the sequel fast approaching, I’m doing what I always do: hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. I’ve met some amazing people along the way, that’s for sure. And who knows, maybe you’ll see me active in the tags sooner than we think. Until then, it’s been an absolute pleasure! Enjoy the sequel, all of you. 💜

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Auld Lang Syne (Jack x Rin)

Word Count: 3200

Warnings: None! Complete fluff.

A/N: inspired by @magic-multicolored-miracle winter prompts. New Year's kiss. o one asked for it 🤣 This is a sequel to "I'm A Creep" <-- Found here

She came to this little bookstore as many days a week as time allowed. Maybe it was becoming a bit obsessive, Rin’s constant reasons to spend hours there instead of a library. There was a collection of unread novels piling up on the coffee table of her council flat off the high street. Any excuse to be nearby

With the holidays fast approaching, her catering job kept her busier than ever. The constant flirting and serving and pleasing executives and drunk administratives and book editors and bankers managed to fend off the memories of the last time she ended up in the psych hospital. That and plenty of time made everything slow down and spread out over days instead of the constant hours she once spent. Her senses now and then brought Jack back to her like the waves in his mental pond crashing over her. She would be taken off guard for just a moment or two, but the parties kept them back at bay.

Two months in the psych hospital was all they spent together. A month that seeped into her dreams and waking moments for half a year after Rin was released. How she and Jack never spoke again after that night. He grinned awkwardly in her direction during their next group therapy session. Squinting his eyes like he was trying to place where he knew her from, but that was part of her gift. Sometimes, they woke up from a dream and forgot she was ever apart of them.

Before Rin could blink, Emma had come to take Jack home. Emma who smiled fondly at the “barking” girl with scarred hands who carried the flame of hope from her heart to her brother. At least that's what she communicated to Rin as they brushed fingertips on the way out. Jack was safe. He was loved. Emma would make sure he could handle the world without messages and the dead people who plagued him for so long. A few more days, and Rin was dropped back out in the world too.

Still, as the song goes, she learned to muddle through somehow. It had been a rather peculiar stretch of time Rin had gone without thinking of his unearthly eyes or that mass of dark curls on her neck and chest as they.. A bell over a door she didn't remember stepping in broke her out of the reverie.

Rin found herself inside a small shop with shelves eight or nine feet high. That musty smell of tangible books invaded her nostrils and she inhaled deeply. With eyes closed, she put her hand on the first row she could find and melted into the memories imprinted on them. She was struck by an unexpected wave, but instead of drowning she rode it to shore. There was a squeaky creak that often accompanies a wheel and just knew someone was on one of those ladders that glided across the shelves.

“You alright, loov?” that Yorkshire accent filled Rin’s ears and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter. “You look like you've seen a ghost,” he chuckled at a joke he felt only he understood.

He was a few feet above her when she finally opened her eyes. He dipped precariously from the ladder like he was swinging from a rope on a pirate ship. Those eyes shining brightly as they reflected the white lights decorating the store. Rin didn’t need to touch him to know he was happy. She could see it on his face as he smiled in her direction. Even in hospital she never knew he had dimples.

“Jack,” it came out before she could help herself.

He arched an eyebrow curiously in her direction. Head tilted in thought. Then looking down at his name tag he puffed air out of his nostrils “Right,” he tapped it “Forgot I was wearing this.”

Rin’s shoulders sagged in defeat, then unexpectedly “Have any Dickens?”

What the hell, she chided herself.

“Do we also have tea in the Queen’s country?” he teased. Rin’s cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. “sometimes we forget all the books we've read. I've forgotten loads since I was sick a few years back. Lived rough then was in hospital while. Dunno why I said that.”

“I think we tell strangers our secrets because we’ll never have to see them again,” Rin spoke softly.

“If you never come back, I was a bad salesman. Always looking for repeats.” Was.. he flirting? “Any Dickens will do?”

“Oliver Twist?” Rin signed and closed her eyes. Her face was on fire. You've had sex with this bloke, and he's got no bloody clue.

“Oi! I like Edwin Drood best. Old man dropped dead right in the middle of it all. Never got a proper ending. Ever been on one of these?” Jack gestured towards the ladder. Rin shook her head so he opened an arm. “Hop on with us then!”

“You give all the girls a ride?” Rin found her voice. She climbed up and settled herself against Jack’s body. Her naked hand closed over his; she felt a jolt go through his chest which tensed in response.

“Not- Not usually?” he stammered and tightened his grip around Rin’s waist as they slid along the shelves. “Do we know each other from somewhere? You just feel familiar. Dunno why I'm thinking of a bird.” Jack spoke more to himself.

“Well, actually, name is Wren-”

He cut her off, “But your brother couldn't say it right, so everyone calls you Rin.”

Jack’s body relaxed into the young woman’s. Maybe it was reflex, but he cautiously buried his face in her hair and inhaled.

Rin swallowed a smile, and found little ways to touch him that day. Little ways to touch exposed parts of Jack everytime she visited the store. Innocent explanations for their hands lingering when he handed her the twentieth book she didn't need. To flirtatiously brush the curls away from his forehead as he leaned over the counter when they talked.

And almost every single time Jack leaned into it. Reciprocated. Started remembering little parts of Rin from their time in section. Not the big messy memories, just bursts from time to time. She was ok with that. She would take him anyway she could.

Now here she was, two days before Christmas with her hands on the ornaments in the shop window. She had something wrapped in brown paper in her purse and was biding her time as Jack helped the customers buying last minute gifts.

Soon it was her turn, and Rin placed the gift on the counter simultaneously with Jack doing likewise. There was unexpected laughter, the way Jack's tapered off into a giggle from a loud outburst. Infectious as it was, Rin joined in.

“If we got each other identical presents, you're coming to mine for New Year’s,” it wasn't a question. “Emma and her partner know you somehow. Must be from around the visitor’s during..” His voice trailed off.

“Our time in the nuthouse?” Rin offered.

Jack leaned over and brushed his nose against Rin’s cheek out of the blue. They lingered momentarily, before he pressed his forehead to hers.

“I've done that before,” another assertion as his verdant gaze settled on Rin’s lips.

Picking up the package, Rin shoved it playfully into Jack’s chest so that he was forced back. “Open your gift!”

“Fine!”

Jack mimicked her tone as he tore into the wrapping paper at the same Rin dove into hers. They both held up books simultaneously and fell into a fit of giggles.

“OLIVER TWIST!”

“EDWIN DROOD?!”

In unison: “FIRST EDITION?!”

“I can't believe I never knew how much you loved books,” Rin was blunt.

“I'm not sure how much we spoke for you to find out.” Jack hugged the book tightly to his chest. “I'm not sure how much I spoke to anyone outside of group and therapy.”

Rin took one of her million chances when she placed the palm of her hand against Jack’s cheek. He relaxed into the touch, eyes closed and sighed contentedly. Under the surface he was warm and bright like the Christmas lights. She wouldn't let herself pass any further than the happy memories. Impassioned ones of mouths and hands and fingertips and hugs.

Perhaps it was the particular sensation Rin spread out from herself to Jack that triggered a reaction. One of him leaning across the countertop to bring their lips together in a chaste kiss that lingered longer than it should have.

Jack recovered and righted himself before apologizing. He was compelled in the moment out of gratitude. “Meet us here on New Year’s, yeah? So we don't have to be alone.”

“You've got family, Jack.” Rin reminded him.

“So we don't have to be alone for the New Year,” he only repeated. It was a date.

------

Rin took the early shift on New Year’s Eve so she could tear out and get ready. The nerves coiled in her stomach as she scrambled to fix hair that wouldn't fall right or apply make-up that made her resemble a street walker. She sighed, defeated, and told herself this was all she could give.

Still Jack threw a large grin in her direction as he closed up the shop. He wolf whistled and Rin felt her face catch fire.

“Aren't you a stunner?” he pecked her cheek and gave the woman before him a spin. She loved the way it came out sounding like “stoonah.”

“You got a big date or something?” he teased before taking her by the hand.

“I needed extra money for the holiday so I thought I'd hang around a street corner. Fifty quid and a warm cot, I'll do whatever you like” Rin shrugged and winked coyly.

Jack rolled his eyes, but his demeanor changed as he traced the network of scars on the back of her hand so delicately Rin felt tears in her eyes. She swiped at them swiftly hoping he thought it was the chilled breeze.

“Dunno why I did tha,” he dropped the hand abruptly and buried his own in a jacket pocket. “Not my place to touch (tooch) you when you didn't ask.”

Uncomfortable silence.

“does anyone else work here besides you?” Rin gestured towards the store as they started walking, she assumed, to Emma’s house.

“Sometimes Emma and Billy. Only when I get too overwhelmed.”

Rin linked her arm with Jack's to break the weird tension. “Do you manage it?”

“I own it. Why need a job? Maybe a bit of a conflict if the boss has a bit of a flirt with the shopgirl innit?”

“OWN IT?!”

Jack laughed, “Not bad for a nutter who talks to dead people and was not long for Big Issue. Why do I say this shit to you?!”

“I'm like a truth serum?” she offered.

They wound their way through a lovely neighbor with houses no one Rin knew could afford. She remembered Jack’s brother-in-law was a lawyer. He told her his sister left him not long after he got out. Had to be spousal support and a settlement, but she didn't prod.

“I helped someone a while back. Someone kinda connected. Well-known, I guess? I tried to sort out his missus when she tried suicide.”

“It didn't work in the end.”

“At first. It's how I got sectioned. The voices. His voice. She was ok for a bit. His family sent me letters. They figured I knew something. What I knew got them a conviction. I got a reward. Doesn’t always feel like one if everyone’s dead now does (dooz) it?”

It was Rin’s turn to lace her fingers with Jack's. “You helped someone's family find peace. Sometimes that's enough even if you kinda lose yourself in the process. Look I let what I can do almost kill me. That’s what put me in hospital.” She held up the gashed scar along her wrist. “But that gave me yo-” Rin swallowed the word. “I got to use my gift one last time. And he's happy! Even if he forgets who I am.”

“Who could ever forget you, love?”

They were quiet the rest of the journey.

-----

Rin sat on the edge of the pool as her feet dangled in the bath warm water. Her brain flashed back to the lake where she experienced Jack drowning in his own mind. Bogged down by medication he didn't need while the dead clung to him. Then they had surfaced, she nearly torn apart by the ghosts Jack fought with. Bellowed that he was no longer their messenger. They tried to take her as compensation.

Now false water filled Rin’s lungs as a fake grin spread across her cheeks. The chlorine and tropical air made her nauseous, ready to vomit. Of all the things Jack could have suggested they do, swimming at 11pm would not have ever crossed her mind.

“There was a kid, lived here before Emma, died right. Mean little bastard too. Suppose dying like that might get a kid angry as long as he was tied to it.”

Jack stood on the pool’s edge, toes curled around the stone. His face went a bit dark as he narrowed his eyes in the direction of something Rin couldn't see in the opposite corner. He clenched his fists. She knew it was a silent standoff between Jack, and most likely, the dead boy.

It was only a flash of his old self before Jack snapped to. He grinned like the Cheshire cat as he undid his jeans and tore his sweater off. Then headfirst into the deep end leaving Rin to squeal.

“WHAT are you doing?!” she yelled as he bolted towards her underwater.

“Dunno fancied a swim. It's rather lovely water considering it's January. Plus,” he pointed towards the ceiling, “Look up.”

Rin followed his finger and gazed upwards. A large glass window spread the night sky before them. Millions of stars shone through, stars she never really bothered searching for. She was overwhelmed by other people's emotions, literally, that she never had a quiet moment to herself so that she COULD look up.

“Don't you wanna to join me?” Jack’s question was rather coy as he side-stroked back and forth.

Rin shook her head, “I'll sit here and watch.” She glanced down at the wine bottle she nearly forget, “And drink.” So they did.

Now her anxiety was churning her stomach. A coat of alcohol warmed her further than just the temperature of the pool room. Her chest was tight with lack of oxygen as she struggled to not cry. So she focused on the long, thin body completely relaxed on the water's surface. What a lovely distraction it was.

Jack floated along lazily on his back, boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. That secret part of him Rin had not seen in two years clearly visible. Now her face grew flush with desire and the memory of how good it felt for once to be touched by a man because he cared about her. How they made each other sing.

Jack must have sensed something because he righted himself and swam towards her. Those hands on her calves and knees to part them slightly so he can stand between them. He was silent as he reached for the bottle of wine.

“Rin, be honest,” his voice filled the silence of the room. “Can you swim?”

Rin's heart pounded so loudly in her ears that Jack was muffled. The way he looked at her, desire emanated from him. There was a disconnect between his brain and body. Those hands on her thighs remembered exploring her but the rest of him didn't. They lingered between innocence and the verge of obscenity. If he wanted, Rin would have sex with him while a houseful of people partied and danced within ear shot.

“i can swim!”

Jack pushed off the wall and splashed her in the process. “Do you think I'm sexy?” he was drunk. Head tilted as the wet curls clung to his face.

“A blind person would think you're sexy. You're taking the piss because I won't get in.”

“Of course I am! Come on. I'll hold you?” he raised an eyebrow. “It's almost midnight. I want to be with you when it is.”

“We're together enough, Jack”

“No!” he waved his hands. “I want to hold you.I don't know why, I know I have before? I feel like there's just this.. Ever since you came to the store it’s been like trying to remember a dream I had once. And some part of me is saying you know how to help because you've done it before?”

Realization spread across Jack's face, “Rin, am I the one who forgot you?”

“It happens sometimes. I think.. I think my abilities shut off a part of people who no longer need me or want me?” she shrugged it off.

“How could I not want you?”

It was such an innocent thing to ask. One Rin had asked herself every time someone used her. Her parents turned her into a sideshow freak for their religion. Men and their sick desires that she tapped into. Even she didn't want herself most of the time.

But Jack had been alone. Left to his own devices and literally haunted. Rin never needed to touch him to know how sad he had been when he first was sectioned. It emanated from him. He knew about self isolation and mistrust. And especially about gifts that would ruin you if they could.

There wasn't a thought left. Spurned on by the purity of his question, Rin hurried out of her clothes and eased herself into the pool. She swam as quickly as her body allowed before throwing herself in Jack's waiting arms.

Their arms and legs tangled together in the water. Rin wrapped herself around Jack's hips, her arms draped across broad shoulders. She twisted her fingers up in his hair and let her body meld into his.

Jack held Rin's head in his hands. Their foreheads pressed together as he nudged the tip of his nose along her face. Careful, at first,

to only brush his lips on her cheeks and eyelids. Then the countdown started.

Everyone in the house started counting down excitedly, and Jack stopped being cautious. It was cliché how their mouths found one another hungrily as the guests screamed Happy New Year! How Rin's empathic touch sent a wave of electricity that visibly shocked Jack's body as they began to sing. As if she plugged his body into his brain and there was a spark that brought him to life.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

For days of Auld Lang Syne

They relaxed into one another. Their kisses became languid but no less passionate. Everyone stormed the pool around them, splashing and laughing and hollering. Emma drunkenly interrupted the couples’ warring lips and tongues.

“Took you fucking long enough,” she teased her baby brother. “I kept hoping this would happen.”

Rin buried her face in Jack's chest as he held her tight. That bright fire that flowed from Emma to her and Rin to Jack back in hospital took root again in this house and pool.

“Me too.”

We’ll take o cup of kindness yet

For days of auld lang syne

[buzzdixonwriter]

COMPARE & CONTRAST: Birth Of A Nation vs Gone With The Wind vs The General

TRIGGER WARNING:   Talking about race in American culture and movies, so some readers may want to brace themselves (looking at you, wypipo).

. . .

Confining “classic films” to movies that: Demonstrate technical expertise, and Influenced other films and creators

-- we have three (and only three) movies about the American Civil War we can safely put in the classic bin.

Before we go further, let’s restate the obvious: A film’s impact in the medium of motion pictures is separate from its impact on the culture as a whole.

Case in point: Leni Riefenstahl’s The Triumph Of The Will is a perfect textbook example of how to stage massive crowd scenes for maximum visual impact, and how to promote individuals and ideas in purely cinematic terms.

It also contributed mightily to the Nazis’ rise to power, their subsequent wars of conquest, and the deaths directly and indirectly of tens of millions of human beings.

It’s important to know The Triumph Of The Will exists and why it’s important in film and cultural and political history, but you need never subject yourself to its vile hate mongering.

With that in mind, let us proceed.

. . . 

Here are the three bona fide classic movies about the American Civil War:

The Birth Of A Nation (1915)

Gone With The Wind (1939) 

The General (1926)

They are all problematic for the same reason: They embrace the “lost cause” myth of Southern white supremacists.

The Birth Of A Nation is by far the worst offender of the trio, helping to restart the Ku Klux Klan and promulgate jim crow for decades to come.

Director D.W. Griffith was a Southern boy, Kentucky born with a father who served as a colonel in the Confederate army (Kentucky, a border slave state, tried to stay neutral at the beginning of the Civil War, then leaned heavily towards secession, but by 1862 threw its lot in with the Union).

Griffith bought into the lost cause myth heavily, and The Birth Of A Nation explicitly states African-Americans are fit only for slavery, becoming a murderous / rapacious mob once freed, and the Ku Klux Klan were gallant heroes attempting to turn this tide.

Griffith tries to have it both ways, depicting Abraham Lincoln as a thoughtful and compassionate leader who would have treated the South better had he survived (ignoring the fact Andrew Johnson did everything in his power to prevent the Union from holding the South accountable, and that Lincoln’s assassin was a Southerner who killed him in revenge after the war ended).

There can be no denying Griffith’s enormous talents as a film maker (again, separating thematic content from the technical expertise).  While the Hollywood publicity machine was quick to claim The Birth Of A Nation was the first feature length film (i.e., 65 minutes or more), the truth is the Australians, the Chinese, the English, the French, the Italians, the Japanese, and the Russians all made feature films long before Griffith, and Griffith wasn’t even the first American to make a feature but was preceded by at least a half a dozen other film makers.

What Griffith was, however, was a master synthesis of all the techniques that preceded him.  Griffith made movies better than anyone else of his era, and his best films are still eminently watchable to this day.

That’s what makes The Birth Of A Nation so harmful and destructive:  Like the Riefenstahl film, it seduced common audiences into complacency while stirring the worst people to action.

It’s a film whose final cost is not measured in dollars but in innocent blood and tears.

Griffith wasn’t stupid, and while he might have felt personally immune to the criticism of his racist attitudes, he was savvy enough to recognize publicly embracing them would not serve his career well.  He followed The Birth Of A Nation with Intolerance, an epic that jumps around in its story lines like a Tarantino film, and in later movies displayed a far gentler albeit still patronizing attitude towards African-Americans.

But the damage was done, the lost cause myth cemented into not just the Southern psyche but white America in general.

Like The Triumph Of The Will, I would never recommend The Birth Of A Nation as a “must see” film to anyone.  If you’re a film historian and you want to subject yourself to this cancer, that’s your choice, but if you’re a student of film there’s nothing Griffith did technically or artistically in this movie that he didn’t do better in his later efforts, and other film makers have since emulated his innovations and built upon them.

. . . 

For many decades Gone With The Wind was celebrated as the pinnacle of American film making, but once the romantic blinders were removed we see it for what it is:  An over long, over blown epic that promulgates what we now recognize as white supremacy, classism, and rape culture.

And while it uses every technical trick in the book, it doesn’t use them as well as Orson Welles did a year later with Citizen Kane.

Gone With The Wind is really two movies:  A well made Civil War epic and its lackluster Reconstruction sequel.

They should have ended the movie with “As God is my witness, I’ll never go hungry again!”  (Seriously.  The only two memorable scenes in the second half other than “I don’t give a damn” both center around Scarlett O’Hara’s dresses.)

Again, let’s emphasize that a technically well made movie does not excuse bad intentions in thematic content.

Gone With The Wind is a rip-roaring bodice-ripping historical novel, admittedly well research and well written by Margaret Mitchell.

She isn’t necessarily writing from a conscious desire to spread the message of white supremacy, but as a Southern gal who grew up in the midst of the lost cause myth, she ends up breathing that message into every line of the book.

The movie version can’t escape that, nor does it try to.  There’s a brief scene early on where both Mitchell and the later film makers prefigure the lost cause myth where Rhett Butler explains to the good ol’ boys at the Tara cotillion that they’re about to be brutally decimated by the Union in a war of attrition, but both author and film makers side with the good ol’ boys and support their God given right to throw away their lives and destroy their homes in an attempt to keep enslaving millions of innocent people.

That last part in bold never gets mentioned, does it?  As others have observed, Gone With The Wind isn’t antagonistic towards African-Americans, rather it treats them as if they don’t exist other that walking / talking props among the scenery.

In that regard, Gone With The Wind is on par with The Fountainhead or Atlas Shrugged (only with a far superior writing style).  The protagonists of all three books are narcissistic sociopaths who will lie / cheat / steal / blow up buildings because the common folk -- the people who actually put in the grunt labor to make things work -- are nothing but slaves there for the elites’ entitlements, and God (or market forces, take your pick) help them if they ever raise their heads or voices -- much less their hands -- in protest.

Oh, but doesn’t it look gorgeous?  As those beautiful rich Technicolor gowns and sets and matte paintings.  All those balls and dances.  All those smoldering looks.  All those flames as Atlanta burns…

There’s the true hero of the story:  William Tecumseh Sherman.  The mofo cut the Confederacy in half, destroying lines of supply and communication, obliterating any rebels who dared to stand up to him, shortening the war by several months, and freeing tens of thousands of enslaved people in the process.

None of which would have been necessary if a few greedy bastards such as the O’Haras had lived Christian enough lives to say, “Y’know, maybe the way we’re treating these people is wrong…”

Gone With The Wind proved insanely popular, on a scale with The Birth Of A Nation a generation earlier, and once again it made it easier for mainstream middle American whites to turn a blind eye to injustices still being perpetuated on African-Americans of that day.  

And it kept playing again and again, one of the very few non-Disney movies to enjoy a substantial re-release schedule, popping up about once every seven years in theaters until the arrival of first cable then VHS.

And it’s still popular, still a steady seller in DVD and BluRay.

That’s in no small part to the skill of both Mitchell and the film makers in hiding the most egregiously problematic elements of the story under a think patina of romanticism.  It became a cultural touchstone that everyone knew and everyone could reference, from political cartoons to Carol Burnett skits.

But it’s still racist and white supremacist, saying African-Americans exist only to serve whites.

It’s still classist, saying not all whites are worthy of what the upper class hogs for itself.

It’s still about rape culture, saying all Scarlett needed was one good rape by Rhett Butler to set her straight.

Is it a product of its era?

Absolutely. The same way over the counter heroin at your friendly neighborhood drug store was a product of its era.  The same way cocaine laced Coca-Cola was a product of its era.

Just because it wasn’t recognized as a bad idea then means we should still circulate it now.

Compared to The Birth Of A Nation, Gone With The Wind is a far less hate filled work, and one that inspires less immediate harm.

It has inspired harm over several generations by making it easy to overlook the real harm it represents in favor of a romantic antebellum fantasy.

If someone wants to see a film that represents the Hollywood studio system at the height of its creative power, I’d recommend Casablanca or The Wizard Of Oz.

I’d put Gone With The Wind way down on that list, and I’d caution it with caveats, but I would say it represents a good example of the old Hollywood system firing on all eight cylinders.

At least for the first half of the film.

. . . 

In most ways, Buster Keaton’s The General is the least problematic of these three films.

In another, it’s as bad as Gone With The Wind.

The good thing about The General is that modern audiences can easily enjoy it.

Buster Keaton chasing after a stolen steam locomotive?  What’s not to love?

It’s one of his best comedies and if it’s not the very best, I’d hate to live on the difference.

It certainly lacks the overt racism of The Birth Of A Nation. 

In fact, it almost lacks any race at all.

And ironically, that’s what makes it a problem.

In researching this post, I re-watched The General, something I wasn’t willing to do for The Birth Of A Nation or Gone With The Wind.

I re-watched it looking for African-American faces anywhere in the film.

I think I found four.

Two porters lugging a trunk in an early scene at a train station, possibly two small children with their backs turned to the camera at the edge of a crowd about ten minutes later.

That’s it.

In a movie about one of the most crucial events in American history, an event entirely predicated on the issue of the enslavement of millions of African-Americans…that’s it.

Four faces.

Total screen time: Less than a minute.

If critics can justifiably lambast Gone With The Wind for sailing over the bloodied backs of millions of enslaved African-Americans to focus on the luxury liner S.S. Scarlett O’Hara, what can they say about a Civil War movie that almost succeeds in eradicating those enslaved humans from the story?

Paradoxically, this makes The General the safest of these movies to show an unsuspecting audience.

The Civil War is boiled down to the dark uniform army fighting the light uniform army; why they were fighting is never explored in detail.

But the lost cause myth was so prevalent at that point that Keaton and company didn’t need to discuss the causes of the war.

Audiences – even those completely ignorant of U.S. history -- automatically assume the light uniform army are the good guys simply because Buster is on their side.

Buster would never do anything bad, would he?

Of course not!

And so -- =poof!= -- millions of people erased from history.

Top that, Thanos.

To be honest, I don’t know how a modern audience should react to that, in particular an African-American audience.

Disappointment at being culturally short changed again?

Relief at being spared the most egregious stereotyping and white supremacy apologies?

Or just plain enjoy Buster chasing after a stolen locomotive?

The General’s cultural weightlessness helps it become a great film.

It’s a purely cinematic endeavor, with the intertitles used primarily to explain the spies’ and military leaders’ plans and motives, not tell us what Buster is thinking and doing.

For a guy called “the great stone face” Buster could be awfully expressive with his body language, and he needs title cards the least of all the performers in this movie

. . .

So where does that leave us, as a 21st century audience in a 21st century culture?

We can neither deny nor ignore the impact of these three films.  Even The Birth Of A Nation, as vile and as hateful as it is, influenced the country and the countries attitudes for a century.

Gone With The Wind feels like something we’ve outgrown, something some audience members can look back on with fondness, but not anything we can fully embrace again.

The General can still make us laugh, and in this case the sin of omission seems far less than the others’ sins of commission.

Learn from the past.

Do better in the future.

    © Buzz Dixon

[forever-rogue]

Disappear Here - 3/4

A/N: Hi guys! So, firstly, I decided to edit this to change it from 3 to 4 parts because I can never be brief with anything. So yes, there will be another part after this. Thanks for being patient I as got this part too, you guys are the best! Again, I recommend the acoustic version of Disappear Here by Bad Suns to set the scene! As always, feedback is welcome! xx 

Based on this blurb (because I’ve gotten a few questions and realized I never really explained it - this blurb is in the present and everything else is in the past).

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: a wee bit of language

MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 4

ALTERNATIVE ENDING

SEQUEL

»»————-　♡　————-«« 

There was not a single sound in the room beside Javier’s light snores as you opened your eyes to the soft early morning light. The sun was filtering in through the thin curtains that covered the open window. The streets were quiet for once; no children out and shouting, the traffic was all but nonexistent. It should have been the perfect start to the day - should have, but wouldn’t be.

Your fingers played with the surprisingly delicate fabric of Javier’s sheets as you faced the window, a million thoughts racing through your mind. A small sigh escaped your lips despite your best efforts to remain silent. You weren’t even sure what it was for: were you happy, or were you more worried about what happened next? What would happened after you finally slept with him? You hadn’t thought that far ahead, no, last you’d gotten much more carried away, getting lost in every part of Javier. 

“Let’s make a horrible decision,” had been the last words out of your mouth before you forgot where you ended and Javier started. After that it had turned into a long night of passion at Javi’s. At first you had wondered how many other girls had been in his bed before you, but as soon felt Javi’s mouth move down your body, you decided you didn’t care. All you wanted was Javi, Javi, Javi.

Almost as if the millions of thoughts bouncing around in your heard had stirred him from slumber, Javier turned around so he was facing your back, an arm snaking around your waist. He let out a small content sigh as he pressed a few soft kisses along your bare shoulder, his mustache tickling your skin.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked, his voice still thick with sleep. You bit your lip, happy he couldn’t see your face, all he would have seen was the confusion etched deep into your features. You remained silent for a few moments before placing a hand on top of his much larger one and giving it a light squeeze. Wrong wasn’t necessarily the right word…more like unsure or confused. You’d really just gone and slept with him. Even after you promised yourself you wouldn’t.

“Nothing,” you whispered after you felt his breathing deviate from its formerly steady rhythm, “just…you know, waking up.”

“A horrible liar,” he sighed as he pulled back from you, laying on his back as he stared at the ceiling. In reality you weren’t a terrible liar, it was more that he was able to read you so easily, more so than anyone else.

“Javi,” you turned to him, reaching over and grabbing his face, forcing him to look at you. He wore an unreadable expression.

“Y/N.”

“Javier,” you retorted, locking eyes with his soft brown ones, “I…we probably shouldn’t have done this. But it’s my fault. And I can’t blame you for it, not entirely anyway-”

“I thought you wanted this?” he had a point - you’d practically thrown yourself at him the night before. You definitely didn’t do anything to stop him, in fact you were only asking him for more. You had most definitely wanted it.

“I did,” you admitted and he let out  long sigh; you were a hard one to read, even you could admit that, “but I shouldn’t have taken advantage of the opportunity to just do it. To just jump right into bed with you.”

“Y/N, you’re making no sense,” his eyebrows knitted together as you pointedly looked away.

“I know…I just,” you ran a hand through your messy hair before pausing and sliding out of the bed, your face flushing when you realized you were naked. Not like it mattered at this point, he’d seen every inch single inch of you in the most intimate manner. You made a mad dash to grab your clothes that littered the floor and slipped them on haphazardly, “I don’t know what we expected this to lead to. I’m not usually down for a one night stand, and it’s not like this is going to change anything between us.”

“Meaning?” he sat up and watched intently as he tried to figure out where you were going with your statements.

“Meaning that now we’re just going back to work after having fucked and have to pretend we haven’t just...done everything that we did,” you sighed. Considering the state of your neck and collarbones, that would be a hard one to ignore; people would notice the markings right away. Light bruises covered your soft skin liberally, “it’s not like we’re suddenly going to be dating, we can’t even technically do that, and I’m not going to turn into your routine Thursday night booty call.”

“Is that all you think this is? Us fucking?” his voice was elevated and had a bite to it as his gaze seared into yours. Clearly you’d struck a nerve.

“Am I wrong?” you threw your hands up in exasperation, trying to get him to understand the gravitas of the situation, “you have a reputation for a reason, Javi, I’m not ignorant to that fact. Hell, half of the country probably knows, Lord knows most of your informants do. And I’m not going to be one of those girls. And it’s not like you’re suddenly going to turn into the model boyfriend.”

“Huh,” he sighed as he rubbed his eyes, his morning quickly into a scenario very different from what he had expected, “why did you even come home with me then? If you think so little of me? Of what this is-”

“What is it then, Javi?” you crossed your arms over your chest, “tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that this isn’t just a one night stand.”

“Why should I bother?” defeat colored his tone as he got out of bed and grabbed his own clothes, “you’ve clearly made up your mind. So why not, then I suppose? You were right, Y/N, this was just a one stand. All I wanted to do was fuck you.”

“Javi-”

“No, you’re right,” he opened the door to the bedroom and pointed towards the front door, swallowing the lump that had appeared in this throat, “just like always. Now get out, rookie.”

“Javier-”

“Get out,” his tone left nothing up for discussion as he moved out of your way. This had turned out very differently than you had imagined. As much as you wanted to hash this out with him, you knew better than to argue when you were both worked up - it wouldn’t end well. Instead you silently brushed past him, storming out of his apartment and slamming the door shut.

If you were so convinced that all he wanted was a one night stand, why were you so upset? Why did you so desperately want him to prove you wrong?

»»————-　♡　————-««

After your altercation with Javier, which you knew was largely your fault, you went back to your apartment and hid out there. It wasn’t much of a reprieve, considering it was down the hall from the man himself, but it was better than nothing. You decided not to go into work, preferring to avoid that whole situation entirely: was it immature? Maybe. Did you care at that point? Not in the slightest. You’d deal with the ramifications of everything on Monday morning, after getting some time to think everything through. 

It had all been fine and well until that evening, late at night as you tried to go to sleep. You had heard people walk into the building, the sounds of hushed whispers wafting under your door as you cleaned up your kitchen. You just rolled your eyes and carried on. But as you got ready to go to bed, you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard some loud banging coming from down the hall.

Your instincts took over as you threw open your door and bolted down towards the sound; you’d even managed to grab your gun in the process, just in case. Just in case Escobar or someone else had tracked you down. It was an ever-looming threat. But when you reached the end of the hall and found yourself facing Javier’s door, your heart plummeted to the bottom of your stomach. The sounds were coming straight from inside, the loud and repetitive bang, bang, bang intricately mixing in with moans and a slew of Spanish. You knew those moans, hell you knew that voice. Javier. It was all Javier. 

As you backed up, you felt a familiar stinging in your eyes as you realized what it meant. You tried to remain as silent as possible as you retreated back to your own apartment; not like it mattered anyway, there was no way that he would hear your over what he was currently doing. 

Sighing, you tossed the gun onto the table before heading to go to bed. Sleep was the only viable option at this point. Hell, you’d brought this on yourself, you’d let yourself catch feelings for, and acted on this feelings. You knew it would this way. But it still hurt like hell, and didn’t stop you from crying yourself to sleep. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next Monday at work was exactly what you thought it would be: awkward, tense, stiff, horrible. But you knew you couldn’t hide away forever, that the more time you missed people would grow suspicious. So you forced yourself into the office, arriving after Steve and Javier. When you walked the two of them glanced at you, Steve offering you a warm smile and Javier looked away almost immediately, his mouth forming into a thin line. 

Yup, this was going to be fun. You thanked your lucky stars that your request for a transfer was still in; maybe it was time to take that more seriously. 

The first day was long and painful, only a few words exchanged between the three of you. You were glad when Steve and Javier were called away; Steve asked if you wanted to come, but you just shook your head, turning back to the paperwork in front of you. For once you were glad to have the excuse of such a menial task. 

And that’s the how the next several weeks passed, much in the same manner. The days dragged on and you’d fallen into the rhythm of staying behind and doing things around the office while your partners did the field work. At first, Steve had questioned you ruthlessly about why you suddenly didn’t want to join them in the field, but when he noticed how you and Javier were interacting, or rather not interacting, he realized something was up. But he didn’t push it; so he decided to do his best to give you both his time equally. 

Relief finally, finally, came after almost a month of tension. when Noonan called you into her office and let you know that there was a spot opening up in Mexico and it had your name written all over it. A wave of relief has washed over your body as you realized that you soon this would be over, soon you’d have a fresh start with new people in a new place. Heaven.

The only thing was that you’d have to wait another month before you could, but you graciously accepted the offer. You’ already survived a month of this tension, you could survive another one. Besides, with this in the distance, it would be enough to see you through it. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next morning you’d headed into the office early, deciding to get a head start on wrapping everything up; you didn’t want to leave them with lots of work to do once you were gone. Steve, to your surprise, showed up a few minutes after you, just as surprised to see you there as early as him. He greeted you with a smile before heading to his desk; he was silent but you could feel his gaze concentrated on you. You choose to ignore it, pretending that somehow you couldn’t feel it. 

“So...heard you’re leaving,” you were wondering how long it would take for him to find out. You were surprised it took this long, even though only a day had passed. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you lifted your eyes to meet his and gave him a small nod. There was a hard to read expression etched onto his face, “Mexico can be a dangerous place.”

“So can Columbia,” you countered, before the two of you sharing a small laugh. You would miss him; he was kind and gentle, and always made it a point to check in on you. And Connie; sweet, gentle Connie, who you’d probably more than intruded enough in the past few weeks in order to get avoid Javier. You’d miss them both dearly.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his serious tone creeping back up, his eyebrows raised in question. You subconsciously bit your lip as you let out a long sigh.

“Look, Steve, it’s just...there’s no future for me here,” you tossed your pen back down and threw your head back with a long sigh, “and besides, you and Peña have got it all handled. You don’t need me, you never needed me.”

“Y/N, look, and please stop me if I’m wrong, but whatever between you and Javi, it doesn’t matter. It’s no reason for you to leave,” he went on and your face immediately paled. You thought you were being subtle, that you were so slick, but little did you know that you were terribly wrong. in reality everyone knew, “this is a job, and it’s our job. You really going to leave all this over that asshole?”

“Steve,” you felt your eyes start to well up, but you laughed at him nonetheless. You really hoped that you’d have someone like him when you arrived in Mexico City, “I appreciate all of your kindness. You’ve always treated me like a real partner. But I can’t do this, not like this. Noonan told me she thought I could handle it, and I thought I could too, but apparently it’s not enough.”

“And what if the same thing happens in Mexico?”

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he won’t be there,” you answered honestly. You felt pathetic for a moment; here you were a strong, independent woman, running away because you couldn’t control your emotions over one man. But not just any man. Javier Peña.

“If you’re sure,” he asked, somehow hoping you’d change your mind a last ditch attempt to keep you there. That maybe somehow you’d suddenly see the light and realize you were meant for Columbia not Mexico. 

“Yeah,” you insisted, using the last bit of vigor and resolve you had left in your voice. Both of you could see right through it though; there was no heart behind your answer, “I’m sure.”

Javier shook his head to himself as he leaned against the wall and sighed. Just like you and Steve, he too had the brilliant idea of coming in early to get extra work done. You were serious this time, you were actually leaving. All because of him. Part of him knew he should have rushed in there and told you not to go, to tell he was sorry, and that he wanted to try and talk things through, but he couldn’t. 

He found himself frozen there, listening to you and Steve. Just when he felt the contents of his stomach churning slightly too much, he decided to leave he’d had enough. He stormed out of the embassy, ignoring repeated calls of his name as he decided to find solace in something, anything, else. He just couldn’t there. Not at that moment anyway.

And as he went to visit his favorite brothel and spent the day there, the only thing on his mind was you. His companion for the day didn’t even mind when he called her by your name. But he did; he wished it was you he was giving himself too, not some girl who’d forget him as soon as he left and she welcomed a new client in.

Javier knew the two of you had been acting like immature teenagers, just avoiding each other and pretending the other didn’t exist. It was dumb, and completely irrational, but it had been the easiest option at the time. But now he knew what he had to do. He couldn’t just let you leave…at least not without speaking his piece first.

»»————-　♡　————-««

His revelation came a few nights later, while you were in the middle of packing. You hadn’t been expecting him, or anyone for that matter, and the loud and rapid banging startled you so much you dropped the wine glass in your hand. You sighed at the mess of glass shards and blood red wine before deciding to leave it for now and seeing who was at the door.

You shuffled towards the door, navigating through a few stacks of boxes before reaching the front of the apartment. Peering through the peephole, you cursed under your breath when you recognized Javier on the other side of your door. Maybe you could pretend that you weren’t home?

“Come on, kid, I know you’re in there,” of course he did. If he hadn’t heard you dropping the glass or heading towards the door, he’d probably still know. You decided to ignore him, hoping that maybe he’d just go away. But you knew better than that, you knew that wasn’t Javi’s style. Just before you walked away, a soft sound of exasperation reached your ears, “Y/N, please open up. Look, I just…I just want to talk.”

Every rational fiber left in your being told you to ignore him, but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t. This was Javier after all.

Instead you opened the door slowly, revealing him on the other side, a tired and worn out expression on his face.

“Y/N,” he said as soon as his eyes landed on you. You wished you could have retorted with a smart remark, but instead you just found yourself staring at him. 

Only a matter of seconds passed before Javi’s hands were on either side of your face, and he crashed his lips onto yours. It had become a familiar sensation, how he felt and tasted, and despite the fact that you were embroiled in some sort of silent stand off with him, you had missed this. You had missed him.

“Javi,” you managed to get out in between kisses, which were quickly becoming more and more heated, his hands flitting all over body as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled back momentarily before peppering kissed along your jaw and working down your neck, “I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”

“Me too,” you agreed in between the soft moans that escaped your lips as he trailed his fingers over the bare skin of your hips and nipped at the delicate skin of your neck, surely leaving bruises that would be hell to cover tomorrow, “I’m sorry too.”

“I want you,” he insisted, punctuating each word with a bruising kiss to your lips. You met his eyes, and you could see there was not even a remote hint of joking in his eyes, “you. Only you. I can’t get you off of my mind.”

“Javi,” you put your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back a little, despite how much you wanted him. Your heart was screaming at you in annoyance, while your brain was happy with your decision, “I…this is…I’m leaving, Javi. I’m leaving for Mexico in less then 2 weeks.”

You took a step back and gestured into your apartment that was nothing was boxes. He let out a long sigh when he realized just how serious this all was. You were actually leaving; it wasn’t just a boast.

You stepped inside and waited for him to follow, listening to the door click shut. It was quiet in the small space for once, much more quiet than you cared for. The stillness was almost too much to bare. So many unspoken words were hanging in the arm and it felt like they were going to suffocate you.

“You’re really going,” it wasn’t a question so much as a statement. You nodded before leaning against the counter, waiting for him to say something; anything, “you shouldn’t go. It’s dangerous there.”

“As compared to the peaceful little paradise here in Columbia? What is it with you and Steve?” you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, “and besides that, I can handle myself. This is a dangerous job regardless of location, for anyone.”

“Do you remember what they did to Kiki Camarena?”

“Everyone knows what happened to Kiki. I’m well aware. The people who did that to him, namely Miguel Felix are done for. It’s been years,” he really was going there with you, “and what about all the things Escobar and his men have to done to people? Carrillo - and I know he’s your friend but he’s not always innocent either. I’ll be able to handle myself, Javier. It’s not like I’ll be alone.”

“Please don’t go,” his arguments were weak, even he was aware of that but it wasn’t going to stop him, “at least don’t just leave because of me. Leave for a better reason. Leave because you really want to.”

“I am doing this because I want to,” it was only a partial lie. You did want to get out and make a name for yourself in another place…but you also did want to get over Javier. And the only way to do that, you had come to realize was to leave. If was almost ironic - you’d never once let your feelings for man or woman get in the way of your job. Not until him.

“You’re not doing this because of me…of what happened between us?” he was doing his best to try and break you down and he knew he had you where he wanted you. You sucked in a breath and nodded, pointedly avoiding his eyes, “eres una mala mentirosa.”

“Si,” you agreed with him, “lo sé.”

“Don’t do this then,” he reached over and put his hand gently on your cheek, trying his best to get you to look at him, “don’t make a decision you’ll only regret.”

“What makes you so sure I’ll regret it?” you put your hand on his wrist, at first attempting to pull his hand away, but finding yourself unable, “besides, Javi...there’s nothing here for me. You and I both know that.”

“You don’t know that though,” he insisted, “I’ve been thinking, a lot-”

“Oh dear,” you interrupted him, a small bit of laughter bubbling up - but he wasn’t amused. 

“Y/N, I’m trying to be serious-”

“I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

“Woman, you are going to be the death of me,” he was getting exasperated and ran a hand through his already messy brown locks. You hopped on the empty kitchen counter, barely able to keep the self satisfied smirk off of your face. You knew he was being trying to be serious, but you had always loved teasing him and pushing him to the edge, “now will you be silent for a few moments and just let me talk?”

“The floor is yours, Agent,” you gestured for him to go on and he let out a long breath. No other woman had ever put him through so much, so many highs and lows before. Not until you. And that’s how he knew, he knew it was supposed to be you.

“Listen,” he stood in front of you, hands on either side of your body as he took up the space between your legs, “I know what I am, who I am, and what everyone thinks of me. I’m not an idiot. But you, you’re never treated me like everyone else, well you and Murphy anyway, but I’m not interested in Murphy-”

“Javi...”

“I don’t normally do...the relationship thing for various reasons,” he admitted, “and getting attached to someone, someone you could lose, it’s not a good idea. Feelings are dangerous.”

“So it’s easier to just fuck people?” you knew he had a point, but you nudged him gently with your let to let him know that you weren’t judging him. Hell, if you could have so easily given into being okay with hookups, you probably would have been doing the same thing. 

“Obviously,” he hung his head and let out a long breath through his nose.

“What’s changed then, Javi? Why do you think you can do a relationship now?”

“You,” he answered honestly, lifting his head and searching your face for any sign of what was going on in your mind. You couldn’t deny that his answer that had set a flame off in your stomach that was slowly spreading through your bones. But you did your best to try and keep your face neutral; you didn’t want to just give him the upper hand completely, “it’s you been, kid.”

“Okay, first of all, if you’re trying fuck me or whatever, you gotta stop calling me kid,” you laughed, trying to loosen the tension a little bit, “besides, I’m your partner not just some kid that just hangs around the office.”

“Fair enough,” the slightest bit of a smirk tugged on the corners of his mouth, “do you prefer Rookie-”

“For you it’s either Agent L/N, or Y/N. Anything else and I’ll show just how proficient I am with a gun,” you waggled a finger at him, which caused him to finally loosen up and laugh. You both knew that aim was not your strongest suit. 

“Listen,” he took a step closer to you, leaving only a small bit of space between your bodies. You wondered if he could hear the rapid beating of your heart, “I’m not going to give you a sappy speech or whatever, but I will be honest with you. I want you, Agent L/N, and whatever that entails, relationship, everything.”

“You’re sure...?” you asked quietly, hoping you weren’t somehow setting yourself up for a huge disappointment, “you’re willing to give up your whole...bachelor thing? You know what that means, right?”

“Like I said, I’m not an idiot,” he brought his face closer to yours and if you would have leaned even the tiniest bit closer, your lips would have been on his. His hands moved to your waist and you didn’t even bother to hold back the small sound of surprise muddled with content, “that means only you.”

“No more side pussy,” you insisted, carding a hand through his hair, and tugging at it to prove your point, “not for information, not for pleasure. And I’m being serious. If we were to do this...you’ve got to be all in.”

“No more side pussy,” he agreed, wasting no time in closing the tiny distance between your lips and kissing you hungrily. You gave into him and let him lead, trying to remember every touch, every feel, every taste you were currently experiencing. It was enough to leave you all but completely senseless, “only your pussy. I’m all in.”

“Javi,” you managed to choke out as his hands roamed under your shirt, and his mouth found your collarbones. He was barely doing anything and here you were, coming completely undone  underneath him, “we..bad idea...work...”

“Fuck them,” he whispered into your skin as he started to tug your shirt off. It didn’t take much for you to acquiesce and lift your arms up so he could easily pull it off and throw it to the side. 

“Jesus,” you melted into his touch as his hands and mouth found your breasts. You were glad that you’d already long since removed your bra, “Javi.”

“Don’t go to Mexico,” it was a plea, as close to begging as he could get in your current situation, “stay.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 44

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42 || CHAPTER 43

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4.5k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: okayyy so here it is. time passes quicker, and youll see itll be like that in the last few chapters too. i hope you like this one, i hope youll like the last few chapters. im a bit nervous so i hope it’s not too bad! oh yea and i used a manip someone made on instagram, just thought it was cool haha!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : some requests i used here but ill only post them in the next chapter because i don’t want to spoil anything!

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 44 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

August 9th, 2018

That was it. We were done with an other season and I couldn't believe what we accomplished. What I accomplished. We had filmed the last scene two days ago, right on time for me to go see Niall perform in LA two nights in a row and the party organised to celebrate the end of this season was scheduled on the first night of his week off.  Everything seemed to fit perfectly together and I was happy. I was genuinely and truly happy.

"Did I tell you how much I missed you?" I heard my boyfriend whisper near my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, making a shiver cross my whole body.

"Mm yes, about a million times in the past 3 days." I replied with a chuckle, tilting my head as he pressed his lips gently on my neck.

I had missed him so much too. We had spent over a month apart and just like I expected, we were even stronger than we were before and that said a lot. We had talked every single day on facetime but it was never the same than to be able to smell him, feel him, taste him... just seeing him face to face was different than on a screen and I had no idea how i'd be able to spend an other 5 weeks separated from him.

"Okay then, did I tell you how good you look tonight?"

I laughed again and turned around in his arms, tilting my chin up to look in his eyes. We were a bit farther from the others, slightly hiding by a part of the wall, and i licked my lips, hoping no one was paying attention to us.

"I'm literally wearing an old pair of jeans that shows how big my ass is and a plain t-shirt." I pointed out. "But thank you."

As if it was a suitable answer, his hands slid from my back to my butt and he squeezed it, making me laugh again.

"I love your ass."

"And in public too?" I asked with an amused smile, my eyebrows raised. "Are you drunk?"

He chuckled and bent down to kiss my lips and i let him, feeling his warm mouth move gently and slowly against mine. No matter how many times we kissed, it always felt amazing, and no one else tasted that good.

"We should go back to the others." I pointed out in a low voice. "They're gonna start wondering where we are."

"Mm, I don't care." he whispered against my lips, making me chuckle low.

"Come on." I just replied, finally taking a step back and tilting my head on the side. "We can cuddle tonight."

We walked back in the room hand in hand and I noticed Dylan looking at us. He sent me a small smile that I answered as I tried to ignore Heidi, sitting next to him. They had been dating for longer than I thought they would and I was wondering if he still thought everything he had told me about her the last time we discussed it. I really thought it was a good thing for him to be with someone else, I just thought it sucked that she was the one he had picked. Still, it was none of my business and I couldn't stop him from inviting her to this party. After all, it was his tv show too, and I owed him a lot. I was well aware that it was more popular because he was the male lead and I knew how lucky I was to act with him.

As soon as we sat down, Heidi and Dylan got up but she left to the other side of the room and he walked to us, sitting in front of my boyfriend. I didn't know if this was about to be awkward but before we could say anything, I heard my phone and frowned. I grabbed it quickly and excused myself, knowing it was even more awkward that I left my boyfriend and my ex boyfriend together.

"Hey Louis, you're calling at a very weird moment." I just said with a smile.

"That's me specialty, love." he let out as a joke, making me chuckle. "You mom tried to call you apparently, but she couldn't reach you so she called my phone. Sweet sweet lady with an incredibly strong accent. It always surprises me."

I rolled my eyes but a smile still drew itself on my lips. "What did she want?"

"She said it was not urgent but she wanted to talk to you, make sure you're not dead or something."

I raised my nose up. "Don't joke with that."

"Sorry love, I didn't mean to bring back... that memory." he apologized after a few seconds of silence. "She doesn't know though, does she?"

"No, only you, me, Niall, and I'm guessing El?"

"Olivia, I didn't tell that to anyone, not even El." Louis admitted, making me smile fondly. "This is no one's business but yours. I promise to keep that secret forever."

"Thank you, Lou." I whispered before swallowing.

I hated to remember that moment of weakness I had, even if I knew it was part of why I was who and where I was today. I really had to hit rock bottom to kick myself up and finally breathe again. If my relationship with Niall was so strong now, it was partly because I had worked on myself and although I knew I still had work to do, I was stronger than I used to be when I first dated Niall. Of course, swallowing all the pills I could find was not my smartest or strongest moment but I was trying to forgive myself.

"Oh you want to hug me right now don't you?" Louis joked, making me laugh through my tears. "I know you!"

I laughed and wipe my eyes quickly before licking my lips. "Yea, I drank a bit too so it doesn't help. I'll text you soon, Lou."

"You better. Love you, queen."

I smiled fondly at the nickname and closed my eyes. "Love you too."

I hung up and texted my mom quickly before going back to the table. Dylan was now sitting next to Niall and it made me frown. I knew they were both a bit tipsy and I didn't want anything bad to happen between them. Gladly, I knew Niall was not into confrontation and Dylan was quite laid-back too. Plus, he was probably over me by then and if they could just accept each other's company, it would be enough for me. I didn't expect them to become close friends, of course, but It would be nice if it wasn't awkward between them anymore.

"Oh and that small.. whimper or whisper she makes when you slip your hand in her panties." I heard Niall comment before Dylan chuckled.

"Right." he agreed, shaking his head gently. "And she's always so ready too."

A tiny part of me wanted to stay and listen to what they were going to say but the part of me that was angry was definitely bigger. I took a step closer but held my breath when Dylan started talking again.

"Let's say it's different than Heidi."

"No man, I ain't going there." Niall laughed while shaking his head before taking a sip of his beer.

"No, I mean, Heidi is very sexy but it's that... that connection, you know?" I frowned and my lips parted when Niall laughed again.

"I don't want to hear about the 'connection' you had with my girlfriend, O'Brien." he pointed out, turning his almost empty beer with his fingers.

"No yea, I know. I just mean that... it's different when you love someone."

"Are you two really comparing how Heidi and I are in bed?"

Both of them jumped so high I thought they were about to fall off their chairs. I wanted to look at their reaction but I decided to focus on my boyfriend and when he turned around, his face changed and I could read fear in his eyes. I crossed my arms on my chest and shook my head, licking my lips.

"That's fucking disgusting. I don't deserve that, and Heidi doesn't either."

This time, I read surprise in Niall's eyes and glanced at Dylan who seemed as shocked as my boyfriend. Oh I still didn't like Heidi, but that didn't mean it was okay for them to discuss about how she was in bed.

"Just because both of you had the chance to fuck us both doesn't give you the right to share gossips about us." I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my anger inside and breathed in deeply. "That's fucking wrong."

I turned on my heels and left before I stopped and turned around again to look at them. "I'm mad at you both, by the way, if that wasn't clear enough."

I walked quickly to my dressing room and closed the door before holding myself against the counter, closing my eyes. I was torn between being mad that they could easily talk about me like that and being relieved that they could actually talk to each other without it being awkward. After a few minutes, I heard a knock at the door and thinking it was probably one of them, I swung the door open but my face changed when I noticed my assistant. My lips curled and I raised my eyebrows a bit surprised.

"You left quickly, are you okay?" she asked, concern written all over her face.

I made a quick head movement to incite her to walk in and closed the door behind her before we both sat down, her on the couch and me on a chair. Tinka was fairly new since my old assistant had to leave due to a pregnancy and we immediately bounded. She was gorgeous and I had to admit I was a bit jealous of her, not only for her looks but also for the way she attracted people easily and all that charisma she had probably inherited at birth, but at the same time, I felt connected to her too and I could never hate her.

"Okay so, I wanted to show you something. I mean at first I was not sure if I should, because I shouldn't have filmed it in first place, but..." she blabbed nervously before shaking her head. "I'll just show you."

She took her phone and clicked on a few things before handing it to me. I frowned, taking it cautiously before noticing she was showing me a video. I clicked on play and my eyes got bigger when I noticed Niall, sitting at the cafeteria as Heidi sat down in front of him. The first part of the conversation was hard to hear but Niall seemed confused and when she handed him a sheet of paper, I frowned again. He stared at what was written on it and finally, she put her hand on top of his and I felt my heart jump high in my throat. The second part of the conversation though, I heard it very clearly.

“You’re right. We should get back together, Niall.” Heidi said with a soft voice. “I mean, I know you’re trying to make me jealous with her but let’s be real. Who could really be jealous of her?"

This time, my heart sank in my chest and I swallowed hard. I was worth more than Heidi gave me credits for, I knew it now, but I also knew she would never see it. Perhaps, she was too busy trying to win Niall back.

“Do you even listen to yourself? You know damn well I’m with Liv and.. aren’t you with Dylan? I love her, okay! I’m not trying to make anyone jealous, I’m just trying to love her the way she deserves to be loved… the way I failed to love her the first time. And you have nothing to do with any of this. What even makes you think I want to be with you?"

I bit my bottom lip, breathing in deeply again and trying to suppress a small smile of relief when I heard my boyfriend's words. The fact that he admitted that he failed to love me right the first time made something stir in my stomach. I knew that failed relationship was not just on him, but it was nice to hear him admit that, especially to someone else.

“Because of that song! You wrote it for me and put it in one of my boxes for me to find!” she argued with him.

I saw Niall roll his eyes and his next words were as harsh as the tone he had used.

“I wrote this about Olivia! I wrote that in the first week I saw her again at the bakery after not seeing her for over a year. It isn’t about you, Heidi. It got in one of your boxes by mistake!” he let out rudely. “I love Olivia, not you. You need to let it go, okay? And those instagram posts you make.. For fuck’s sake, Heidi! What’s the point? Make me feel bad? Alright, I’m sorry I cheated on you, I should have broken up with you before and that was a mistake, okay? Now please, leave me the fuck alone.”

The video stopped but I still stared at the screen, lost in my thoughts, until Tinka talked again.

"I don't know why i recorded this, and I know I shouldn't have, I'm sorry." she apologized again. "But it was recorded anyway so I mean, why not show it to you?"

I just stared at the thumbnail of the video again before clicking on the 'delete' button and when it asked me if I was sure, I clicked on 'yes' without hesitation.

"Thanks, Tinka. I deleted it." I finally said, looking up at her before she nodded. "But thank you for showing me. Just... don't do that again, please. Niall and I we're both very... private."

I handed her her phone back just as an other knock was heard at the door. We both got up and I opened the door as she walked past Niall. He nodded at her and finally turned back to me, his hands in his pockets. I couldn't help but tilt my head, glancing down at him, telling myself once again how good he looked. I also couldn't stop thinking about the way he had told Heidi he loved me and it made me want to hug him.

"Olivia, I'm.. so sorry."

I crossed my arms over my chest and raised my eyebrows, expecting more than just a simple apology.

"You're right. It was so wrong, and we shouldn't have." he added, making me lick my lips. "We were literally trying to find something to talk about, and it was so awkward... the only thing we really have in common is you. But we shouldn't have."

I let my shoulders fall and sighed, raising my nose up in a grimace. "So I really make some sort of whimper when you slip your hand in my panties?"

He chuckled and took one of his hands out of his pocket to pass it in his hair. "Yea, you do. But I'm slightly jealous knowing you also whimper like that when he did it. I thought I was special."

"Oh, poor little boy thought he was special." I joked, making him grimace too. "Come here."

I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him inside before closing the door behind him. He was close to me, so close I could feel the warmth of his body close to mine, and when my ass met the counter, I smiled more. He chuckled as he stared down in my eyes and shook his head slightly.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Mm, maybe."

I felt his hand slip in my jeans and panties and my eyes fluttered slightly as my lips parted as I let lout a whimper despite myself.

"And now?" he asked, clearly amused by the effect he had on me.

"I'll tell you in a few minutes." I whispered, tilting my chin up to look at him better.

I felt two of his fingers brush gently on my clit before he slipped them inside me. I moved one of my legs up on the counter and he moved closer to me, bending down slightly until his lips were only a few inches away from mine.

"You're all mine, yea?" he whispered, making me bite my bottom lip. "Say it."

"Mm, I'm all yours Niall." I breathed out, blinking a few times. "I belong to you."

"Fuck yes you do."

He started fingering me quickly, making sure his palm was rubbing against my clit and when I felt an orgasm spread all over my body, I let my head fall back and shook slightly as he pressed his mouth against mine. I could feel his lips curl as I came and I finally got down from my high, whimpering low and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Okay, I forgive you." I whispered, kissing him deeply for a few seconds before moving my head slightly back. "Do you think that's how Dylan will want to be forgiven too?"

I laughed lightly at the face he made and I heard him groan low. "I'll kill him."

I shook my head a bit and my amused smile turned into a fond one. "You know, I never ever moaned his name." I admitted, licking my lips. "I only do that with you."

He looked happy with my confession but he still raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because... I was always scared I'd moan your name instead."

His face changed and somehow, I could read love in his eyes and it made me swallow hard. He remained silent and my lips parted again.

"I've never stopped loving you, Niall." I murmured. "I told you."

"Guess what, Olivia?" he let out in a soft tone, his eyes roaming quickly on my face. "I never stopped loving you either."

                                                      ----

August 15th, 2018

Dylan had stopped me before I left and had apologized to me profusely. He even texted me the next day to apologize again and I forgave him immediately. Maybe it was because I felt a bit guilty for not telling him about the video Tinka had showed me where his girlfriend was blatantly trying to get back with my boyfriend, but It was easy to forgive him and I knew he felt horrible about it. I was still unsure if I should tell him and at the same time, I didn't want to be the reason of their break-up, or even of a fight so I deciced to ignore it for now but that didn't stop me from feeling bad.

It was almost time for Niall to go back on tour and I felt extremely nervous about it. It had taken me about a week to decide on what I would do. I wanted to go with him but at the same time, I didn't want to be the clingy girlfriend who followed him everywhere. With time, I realized that I could follow him without going back to my old habits but I still had no idea how to tell him. He hadn't mentioned it again, probably because he didn't want to sound pushy or make me feel like I had to follow him, but my insecurity sometimes tried to make me believe it was because he didn't really want to spend so long with me.

"Why did you want me to come with you, Louis?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and turning to him as he was parking. "You know it's one of my last few days with Niall."

Louis laughed and shook his head, turning to me to look in my eyes.

"We both know you're gonna follow him on tour, Liv. Who are you trying to fool?" he said, his accent thick. "You can spend a few hours with your best friend, can't ya?"

I felt my heart skip a beat at how well Louis knew me, sometimes even better than I knew myself, and I realized that I had opened up to him like I had never opened up with anyone else besides Niall. And I didn't regret it at all.

"Yes. You're right."

"Look," he started again, turning on his seat to look at me. "I have something for you."

He searched through his pockets and handed me a well-folded piece of paper, which was surprising. Normally, anything that ended up in Louis' pocket was crumpled or crushed. I frowned a bit and took it before unfolding it gently and carefully.

"I drew it meself. Took me hours."

My lips parted as I looked at the drawing of a crown. It was pretty and he clearly had put a lot of effort into it. It was not perfect, but I thought that's what made it look even more special.

"Wow, Louis... this is..."

"I made it for you." he cut me gently. "If you wanted to get a tattoo, that is. It represents you well, don't ya think?"

I looked up in his eyes and weirdly, I could read stress, like he was not sure how i'd react. The fact that Louis always called me his queen, and that he had even written a song about me with that word made this drawing even more important for me and as soon as his eyes met mine, I knew it would be impossible for me not to get this tattoo.

"I think it represents you, actually." I explained, tilting my head and looking at him. "This tattoo will always remind me of you, and I want you to know that you're important to me, Louis. I would be dead without you. Literally."

His lips curled slightly on the right and stress disappeared from his traits.

"Now you need to draw something for me to get, too." he pointed out.

"Wait, so we're here to get you a tattoo that I would draw?" I asked as  his smile turned into a smirk.

"Exactly."

"Can it be simple? I can't draw for shit." I admitted with a grimace.

"Just draw it, give it to the artist, and I'll look at it when it's done."

I stared at him for a few seconds, feeling my heartbeats accelerate and after a while, I breathed in and out. After all, if he didn't like it, he could always get something over it, right?

It took half an hour to get the crown tattooed on my ankle but only about 10 minutes to get the smiley I had drawn for Louis. It was pretty simple with x's instead of eyes and since it was on his wrist, he kept his eyes closed the whole time to make sure it wouldn't ruin the surprise. We walked back to his car in silence about an hour later and sat down, both of us leaning against our seats.

"Is it too simple?" I asked before he turning his head my way with a smile.

"No, it's perfect."

I smiled back at him and held my hand up between us. It took him a few seconds but he finally grabbed it, intertwining his fingers with mine and squeezing my hand.

"Thank you for saving my life." I let out in a soft voice. "Literally, but also metaphorically."

"You saved mine, too."

                                                       ---

When I walked back in Niall's house... I mean, in our house... I heard him talk and frowned, trying to be quiet in case he was on the phone. I saw him in front of his laptop, just talking to the screen and it took me a few minutes to realize he was probably on a live chat on instagram. I made sure to remain silent and walked to the kitchen to gt myself a glass of wine and leaned against the counter. I listened to what he was saying from the living room, smiling and chuckling from time to time until I heard him say his goodbyes. I wanted an other minute or two, knowing Niall was the kind of person who said bye by stayed an other half an hour with his hand on the doorknob before actually leaving and when I joined him in the living room, he was getting up.

"Are you done?"

"Yes, sorry, I thought it would take you longer." he apologized, making me smile.

"No, it's all good, it's cool that you do lives for your fans." I just shrugged, joining him near the couch. "Your such a good person."

He smiled more and took the glass from my hands before placing it on the coffee table. I chuckled and he wrapped his arms around my waist, raising his eyebrows.

"And does that turn you on?"

I laughed some more. "Maybe."

He didn't answer anything. Instead, he pressed his lips against mine as his arms pulled me even closer. My eyes fluttered close as he deepened the kiss and I sighed low, feeling my body relax in his arms.

"I'm gonna miss you so much." he whispered before kissing me some more,

"I'll miss you more."

He stepped forward, forcing me to take a step back, and guided us around the couch and until the hall. I ended up hitting my back on the wall and I laughed against his lips.

"Clumsy ass." he said in the same amused tone he always said it. "I love you."

We finally ended up in our room and he closed the door with one of his feet, bringing me to the bed and quickly putting himself on top of me. I loved the feeling of his body over mine, warming me, and it always surprised me that every time, it would make a shiver cross my back. I shivered in his arms and he pulled away slightly to look in my eyes.

"How about we stay locked here until I have to take that fucking stupid plane?"

I raised my eyebrows and my lips parted before I tilted my chin up. "Don't you have somewhere to be tomorrow?"

"I canceled." he admitted, his eyes dropping to my lips before he ground his hips against mine, probably without thinking.

"For me?" I asked with a small smile.

"For us."

I brought my hands to his cheeks and let one of my thumbs brush on his bottom lip. "How many times are you gonna make love to me until you leave?"

His lips curled again and he chuckled low. "As many times as I can."

[unsettledink]

A while back I made up a list of fics I had ideas for/wanted to write, mostly to try and drum up bids for Marvel Trumps Hate.

Since then I have, of course, had approximately five million new ideas and keeping track of them has gotten a bit out of hand, so i thought I’d try and put them all in one place that I could come back to and also update more easily. Also possibly some sort of… accountability thing? Like if I put them out into the universe I’m more likely to actually write them? Well I can dream.

There’s going to be a couple of these, divided up by pairings. Feel free to ignore, it’s mostly housekeeping!

(This one’s just for spiderio and polyspiderio ideas.)

(* for the new ideas)

Gotcha - Quentin’s willing to play out a long con to gain Peter’s trust and EDITH. He’s not going to catch feelings, don’t be ridiculous. These... these aren’t feelings! He can’t stand Peter! (Oh shit they’re SO MANY FEELINGS.)

Soulmates turn good plans into disasters – a 5+1 structured fic of different takes on how Peter and Quentin could discover that whoops, they’re soulmates

Just watched him die – something that might be a bit meandering about how Peter got from running into fire to save vulture to not even attempting to keep Beck from dying, and how the guilt eventually comes crashing down (and Beck’s probably not dead, will probably take advantage of said guilt)

ABO hooker fic – for Reasons(tm), omega!Peter is selling himself while hiding, taking risks he shouldn’t be. Ends up with alpha!Beck as a regular client and things progress into ~feelings~. Somehow slots into place after endgame and keeps a lot of the EDITH plot? Yeah I’m working out the details; it’s going to be a long one.

Yet another fun with illusions fic – Beck messes with Peter’s head on the trip, convincing him that the illusions he’s using are actually dreams where Peter’s subconscious is trying to convince him giving up EDITH is the right choice, via sex dreams featuring Tony and/or Beck. Gets in deep enough to mess things up in the bridge confrontation; not a happy ending.

Baby’s first d/s attempt – Peter getting curious and trying to find someone online, obviously turning out to be Beck. They Should Not but Do have all the kinky sex. At some point Tony discovers and does not approve, and then endgame. (There’s going to be some messing around with ages in this.) Beck is not snapped, Peter is, Tony is an asshole about it: gameplan Mysterio is still on– wait, what do you mean Peter’s alive again? I am still up in the air about happy vs sad ending here.

Continuation of Causality – that mind control drug was pretty fun for Beck, so why not use it again? Who cares if it’s screwing with Peter’s head and he’s literally losing his mind? Featuring slightly worrying sex, asshole Beck, and unsure if he’s turned on or miserable Peter.

Hanahaki & sequel – Why does Peter have such a thing for assholes that will absolutely not love him back? Why is Peter’s enhanced body a nightmare and not allowing him to be cured or die from this? Why does he keep hallucinating Beck alive and showing up at night to mock him and have sex? (I know why.)

Nicknames - (kind of cracky) Quentin was to busy going ‘oh no, he’s cute’ to catch Peter’s name. So he’ll just call him increasingly ridiculous nicknames and confuse the hell out of everyone.

Egg kink - what’s that, another ‘Peter DOES lay eggs’ fic? Yes! In which Quentin is not nearly as freaked out as Peter, and really enjoying winding Peter up. Right up to the point where they both realize this is hotter than they thought.

Groundhog Day collab with the_me09 - Quentin gets stuck in a loop and takes a long, long time to get out of it. Long enough for him to stop dying, stop killing Peter, stop winning, and start falling for that stupid kid.

Secondhand verse – following after this, things growing steadily worse, hotter, and more complex between Peter, Beck, and Tony. Bad decisions all around! Unexpected feelings all around! General unhappiness at having feelings that can be hurt all around! Probably a series of fics.

12:00 - follow up to 11:59, Tony and Peter finally getting it on and Beck being an ass in the background. Also the prequel that’s primarily Peter/Quentin, and possibly a sequel where Tony decides that maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, watching Beck fuck Peter - and Peter liked it, right? Everyone’s down for a totally uncomplicated round two, right? Or three, or four…

Aegis outside POV – ok I know no one wants this but me, lol. The events of Aegis, seen through William’s pov; Quentin in all his unhinged glory.

*Aegis, the happy ending – the version of Aegis where Quentin has one moment of trust and things go... not great, but no one dies at least. (I can’t seem to let go of this verse idek.)

*Test Subject continuation – so what IS in the rest of those vials? (a lot)

*Blackmail take two - Quentin’s noticed that Peter is into Tony, and he’s going to take advantage of that with some illusions. And then take advantage of Tony with the tape he made of ‘Tony’ fucking this clearly underage boy rough.

*Alley sex - instead of getting a drink, Quentin convincing Peter to have a quickie in some dark corner.

* Are those eggs?? - for Reasons, spider bite has done something to Peter that means he produces eggs. Quentin is being a dick and teasing him about it during sex, only whoops, that’s actually kind of hot? For both of them? What is happening? Guess they’ve got an egg kink.

(And feel free to talk to me about anything here, I love an excuse to ramble. Also, if something grabs your attention, have fun writing it - the more the merrier!)

[cyn-00]

Moreid one shot, 16 - "light of his life"

This isn't inspired by any episode, although it is kind of a sequel to my One shot 6 (around seasons 7/8). For those of you who haven't read it/don't remember it, in that fic Morgan's sister Sarah mentioned to him that he should ask Reid to come over for dinner. It isn't an actual sequel - this is a one-shots series after all ;)

Also: in my magic, fictional world where Moreid is real, there's no such thing as hetero-normativity. I'll never spend time writing about Morgan and Reid's past coming out, or the others' reaction, or whatever. Sometimes you'll find references to the fact that they're hesitant to show affection in public but that's about it - and I imagine it's because they don't feel comfortable doing so in a working context, not out of being afraid of discrimination :)

This is the longest one I've written so far lmao bear with me ily. (future me says: wait until u read number 20. Oh, little did I know...future me also says: I added a couple dialogues and other stuff)

Read it on AO3

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

"Boy Wonder." Garcia's equally teasing and scolding voice came from the other side of Reid's phone.

"Hey Garcia" he greeted her, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible.

"Were you not gonna tell me? Was I supposed to find out from JJ??"

Spencer sighed. He should've known better than to tell JJ about him going to Derek's family home for dinner. He took a wild guess probably everyone on the team knew now.

"I'm- I'm sorry, alright? I have no excuse."

"No you don't! Especially not the cliché excuse where you say 'I forgot' because your eidetic-memory-cute-little-butt would never forget about such a thing!"

Spencer chuckled shaking his head. "Fine but, now that you know, please don't tell me you called to say how 'cute' it is or whatever, because JJ thought of doing that already."

"...well...ok then, plan B. You genius managed to burst my little bubble of "aww how cute"s in a fraction of second."

"...sorry ? again." he said in a confused tone.

"Nuh-uh don't think for a minute that you got rid of me so easily. I have another million yet un-burst little bubbles of topics you and I HAVE to discuss before you meet your in-laws."

"My wh-"

"FOR INSTANCE your outfit." Penelope raised her voice to interrupt him before he could tell her not to call Derek's family his "in-laws", because it freaked him out.

"...well for that I could actually use a little help." Spencer replied, staring helplessly at his half unpacked go-bag.

"Wait...you DID bring something NICE, didn't you?"

No response from Spencer.

"Oh. My. God. I can't belive this. Spencer, could it BE more obvious? Derek being totally in love with you + mentioning that his family wanted to invite you over to dinner + case in Chicago?? So much for being a math genius, huh"

Still no response from Spencer. "Derek being totally in love with you". He was smiling so hard he thought Penelope could FEEL it through the phone. His brain got stuck to that point in her phrase - he didn't even bother wondering how she knew that Derek had already mentioned it a month or so before.

"...uhm, hello? Earth to Doctor Spencer Reid?"

"Yeah- I'm- I'm sorry Garcia it's really late I have to go, thank you for your precious advice, you're the best." he finally answered in a rush.

"Wh- but I didn't even GET to-" he hung up before she could finish the sentence.

-

That phrase from earlier triggered a sudden realization in Spencer's mind: Derek could probably not care less about what he was gonna wear. The important thing to him, was that he'd show up. And it was late, so he had to get it out of his head - it wasn't like some kind of breaking news that Derek loved him, anyway. Spencer knew it, deep down. Even if it was still hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that SSA Derek Morgan, the hot chocolate, the hunk, the ladies' man - pfft, yeah, right? - was in love with him.

That very thought escaped his brain only to make space for another one, just as paranoid, inconclusive and time-consuming: Penelope was right, wasn't she.

Derek always made time to visit his family everytime they had a case in Chicago, before going back to Quantico; it was a known fact amongst the team. Plus, the others didn't mind spending an extra half-day in the city to go out or - more realistically - crash in their hotel rooms.

So if you take that, and add the fact that Sarah had hinted to Derek to invite Spencer for dinner sometime; you get that Penelope was right. EVEN if Derek could've asked with a little more advance - instead of that same morning - and EVEN if, at the time Derek had told him about that conversation with his sister, Spencer hadn't really said a clear "yes". He hadn't said "no" either, to be fair.

Also, one would guess Spencer should've just been prepared for it, sooner or later, right? After all, Derek and him had been dating for... well, he wasn't quite sure. Not because he didn't remember: of course he remembered their first kiss, their first "date" - or whatever you call it when two people see each other outside of work - the first time they had kinda-but-not-really expressed their feelings for each other, the first time they had slept together. So, which one of those should he take in consideration to determine how long they'd been dating? Or maybe it was a matter of guessing an average out of all those parameters? Spencer had always had troubles trying to pinpoint that.

Anyway. None of those thoughts were helping him to decide which one of the 3 shirts displayed on the mattress he was going to wear that night. If not a whole "nice" outfit, he could've at least packed Derek's favorite shirt, just to be sure. He didn't even know why that was his favorite: it was just a pale lilac button-up. He said that the fact that it hung a bit too loose on his shoulders and arms, and had to roll up the sleeves once or twice, gave him permission to fantasize that it was his shirt, worn by Spencer - which, by the way: he could simply say he'd like Spencer to wear his shirts. He definitely wouldn't mind doing that. And ultimately, aside from this whole reverie of Derek's: it was still a damn pale lilac button-up a couple sizes too big.

-

Spencer checked his watch for the fifth time in the last 20 minutes: 7:15 pm. Derek was gonna knock on his hotel room door in 15.

He chose to keep it elegant but subtle, finally picking a blue-ish grey shirt, to pair with black jacket and slacks, trying to go with his gut - whatever that meant. Derek always told him to "feel" stuff. He probably didn't mean him to apply it to such a shallow thing like picking which fricking shirt to wear, though.

He quickly got out of his sweats and put the outfit on, looking at himself in the mirror.

Shit. The tie. The question wasn't even WHICH tie, rather: with or without tie?

Spencer came to the most logical and well-thought decision he'd made during that whole outfit-picking process: if he'd chosen to wear a tie, he would've had to spend another 15 minutes choosing which one. So, no tie. However, he wasn't used to not wearing one, so he tried not to stare too long in the mirror observing how strange he looked - and felt - without it.

He left the first two buttons of the shirt undone, and tried to un-mess his hair up - "c'mon I love your messy hair!", Derek's words popped into Spencer's head, making him giggle as he proceeded to put his shoes on.

He didn't even have the time to take one last look at the whole situation in the mirror, that he heard a knock on the door.

"Fuck." he gasped to himself.

"Coming!" he said as he quickly made his way to the door, jogging back and forth every 5 seconds to pick up pieces of clothing spread out on the floor and go back to squeeze them into his bag.

-

Derek waited in front of that damn door for what felt like 30 minutes.

He kept his eyes down at his feet and his hands in the pockets of his pants, as he tried to decipher the sounds coming from inside Spencer's room.

Much to his frustration, he spent the waiting time regretting having asked only that morning. He had actually done it on purpose to ask with little to no advance, so that Spencer couldn't say "no", knowing he'd be afraid to sound rude if he didn't accept. He didn't force him to do anything, though: Derek was 100% sure that he wanted to meet his family as his actual boyfriend - because he had met them a few times before, first as his co-worker, later as his best friend.

He was just trying to make the decision-making easier for him, coming to terms with the fact that he DID want to meet them a little quicker than he would have if Derek had asked him days and days before, hence had way too much time to think and rethink and go all paranoid.

Anyway, as it turned out, even that tactic had a couple of downsides: first of all, Spencer would've felt tenfold more nervous because of the lack of time to process the thing; second - which was a direct consequence of the former - it would've taken him a million years to get ready, leaving Derek out in the hallway for 5 minutes straight.

-

"Hey!" Spencer finally opened the door, nervously running his tongue in between his lips and adjusting his hair behind his ears. He also looked slightly out of breath.

"Hi" Derek greeted him back, smiling warmly. It took him a few seconds to realize what was standing in front of him. His man, looking handsome in those clothes.

He walked inside the room and turned around, watching Spencer as he closed the door. He gradually got closer and closer to him, forcing him to pull back until he was caged in between his broad body and the door, with no way out.

Derek placed a hand on his own hip and leaned against the door with his other forearm, just above Spencer's head. He bit his bottom lip in the attempt to stop smiling, staring carefully up and down at every inch of his boyfriend's fineness.

"How dare you" he murmured, knowing that Spencer understood perfectly that he was referring to how outrageously and disrespectfully good he looked.

"W- what are you talking about?" Spencer asked, playing dumb, courageously staring back right into Derek's deep eyes and not even making the slightest effort to contain his furious blush.

Derek didn't answer, instead he reached a hand toward Spencer's jaw, teasingly stroking his bottom lip with his thumb. He was inching closer definitely too slowly for Spencer's liking, to be completely honest.

Derek finally pushed his body against his, making Spencer's back produce a light smashing-like sound against the wooden door. He gasped in all the air he needed before making their lips collide dangerously, forcing a surprised moan out of Spencer's lungs.

"Mmhh...now... t's clear what you're...talking mm'bout" Spencer mumbled teasingly against his lips.

He wrapped his strong arms all around Spencer's body, as if it was threatening to fall on the floor, unravelling his hot tongue inside his mouth at last.

Derek's lips ran down to his jaw, allowing Spencer to catch his breath and his arms to finally grab onto him as his head fell back, hitting the door.

The second his mouth reached his ear, slightly biting his lobe, Spencer realized he couldn't take anymore of that without risking to rip off with his bare hands every single layer of clothing Derek was wearing.

"Ok w- wait, Derek wait a sec" he breathed out, unable to keep his eyes open and aware.

"Mhmh" Derek hummed unbothered, as the tip of his wet tongue brushed on the warm spot beneath Spencer's earlobe, before sucking it into his mouth.

"Ohw fuck- no s- seriously we're already late"

Derek suddenly stopped like Spencer had pushed a "OFF" button. He'd totally forgotten the reason why he got there in the first place, being so distracted by making his boyfriend's head spin and his body squirm uncontrollably.

"Holy shit. You're right." he said checking his watch, without pulling back from Spencer's body even a quarter of an inch.

After a few seconds of silence, while they rested their foreheads against one another to catch their breaths, Spencer spoke up.

"Believe me, I wouldn't have stopped you if it wasn't so important to me."

Derek distanced his face a little in order to look at him. "It is?" he asked with a sparkle in his eyes. "It's important to you?"

"Yes. I really want them to see us together like this." Spencer said smiling softly, caressing Derek's cheek.

"...well maybe not like this " the other answered chuckling, breaking the romantic mood Spencer's words and demeanor had set.

"Yeah right- you know what I mean!"

"I know." Derek concluded nodding, pecking at Spencer's already flushed lips one last time before letting go of him.

"It took me 30 minutes to come up with a decent outfit and you messed it up in 5, that's rude to say the least." Spencer said after a while, adjusting his hair and tucking his shirt back inside his pants.

"I'm sorry pretty boy, but you kinda asked for it." Derek justified himself, shrugging mockingly at him.

"...could say the same thing of you, though." he replied murmuring, not sure if he wanted Derek to hear him or not.

"What was that?" the other asked, even if having heard crystal clear, in fact.

"What?"

Derek snorted, inching once again very, very close.

"Baby, you're only making it worse, you must know that right?" he whispered with a smirk.

Spencer didn't answer, too busy looking at Derek's lips as he ran his tongue in between his.

"And, you're standing in my way."

Spencer frowned and shifted his gaze down, noticing Derek's hand was on the doorknob behind him: he was, indeed, standing in his way. He shot him a glare and stepped aside, so they could finally get out of the room.

The realization that they were about to have dinner with Derek's family as a couple fell onto him once again, out of the blue, easing whatever bit of heat was left inside his pants.

-

30 minutes later or so, they got to Derek's house. The car ride was strangely silent, probably because they were both nervous - even Derek was, a bit. He was just better at hiding it.

He parked the car and turned it off, deciding to wait a little before getting out. He looked over to Spencer, whose eyes were staring blankly at the small house outside.

"Hey," Derek spoke softly, placing his warm hand on his thigh in the hope to calm him down a little.

Spencer turned his head toward him as soon as he felt his touch, revealing quite an anxious look.

"It's gonna be great. And I bet I'm gonna find myself saying something like 'I told you so'." Derek tried to lift the mood, not needing him to say anything to gather what was troubling him. Still, he paused right after, letting him have the time to say it nonetheless.

"...what if they don't like me?" Spencer finally asked, his voice small and a little trembly.

"They already love you. I can guarantee you that."

"Yeah but I mean, what if they don't like me... this way? With you?" Spencer explained further, trusting that Derek understood what his main concern was. Which wasn't the possibility that they wouldn't like him as a person - because they did, as Derek said and as he already knew. It was the possibility that they wouldn't like him as his romantic partner. As his boyfriend.

"Spencer... they know already that we're together, you know that right? It's not news to them." Derek said furrowing his brows. "and they're not just 'ok' with it, they love it. This. Us." he added reassuringly, pointing between the two of them with his finger.

Spencer simply nodded in response, getting back to looking down at his knees.

Derek shifted in his seat to lean closer, moving his hand from Spencer's thigh to his chin to lift it.

"Baby look at me." he murmured. His heart swelled when Spencer followed the order, giving him puppy eyes.

"I love you. And they love you as much as I do. So they will love us too, for sure. Alright?"

"Alright." Spencer finally spoke, a shy smile on his pretty face.

"...I partly take that back though. Not possible for anybody else to love you as much as I do." Derek concluded on a cheesy note, winking and giving him his signature smile.

Spencer chuckled, refraining from face-palming and choosing instead to simply shake his head.

-

They finally got out of the car, after that 10 minute pep-talk. Derek made his way around it to reach Spencer, holding out his hand toward him.

Spencer looked at him, shifting his eyes back and forth between Derek's hand and his smiling face. He sighed, acting annoyed, when actually he thought it was very cute of him to decide they'd get to the front door holding hands.

He took it and crossed his fingers with Derek's, clenching it tight to try and lessen his anxiety.

When they arrived at the door - standing beside one another, but Derek a few inches ahead of him - Spencer inadvertently squeezed his hand even more the moment Derek rang the bell.

"Derek! My boy!" Fran opened the door only a couple of seconds later - she'd been probably waiting on them for quite a while - with a wide, shiny smile on her face. Each time he'd seen that smile over the years, Spencer got more and more convinced of whom Derek must have got it from. And he could only thank her for it.

A few moments after, Sarah and Desirée joyfully came to the door as well, the younger one clapping her hands and squealing a loud "yes!" as soon as she saw the couple holding hands. Spencer's whole body was blushing, but he was genuinely happy to be there, with Derek.

"Hey mama!" Derek greeted back entering the house, letting go of Spencer's hand to hug his mom and kiss her forehead, with a smile just as shiny as hers if not more.

"Oh, Spencer, it's so good to see you! Come here," she said closing the door, right before spreading her arms to hug him. She was so small even compared to his skinny frame, Spencer could only imagine how tiny she must have felt in Derek's strong arms.

"It's good to see you too, Mrs Morgan." he smiled back, a little embarrassed because, even if it was from his boyfriend's mother, it was still a hug after all.

"Oh please, don't call me that. You make me feel old!" she pleaded arching her brows, while the two greeted and hugged Derek's sisters as well.

"Old? You look younger than your own son!" Spencer joked.

"Uh excuse me, what side are you on now??" Derek replied, playfully messing Spencer's hair by untucking a strand of it with his fingers to let it fall over his face, causing him to scrunch his nose in that way. The others laughed affectionately at them.

The three women led the way toward the dining room, enveloped in a warm, homely light.

Spencer waited a second to sit down, letting the others choose their spots. Desirée and Sarah sat next to each other, asking that him and Derek mirror them; while their mom - who had temporarily excused herself to check on the food in the kitchen - was of course entitled to the seat at the head of the table.

-

Dinner proceeded serenely, between some small talk about their tough job and a lively laugh at some joke Derek or Desirée said. Anyone who had spent even just as little as 10 minutes in that house, could tell with zero doubts that those two where the pranksters of the family.

The food was so good, the company even better. No one had brought up any embarrassing topics, nor had made Spencer feel out of place or looked at him weirded out, whenever he'd thrown some of his beloved facts and infos in the conversation: he was struggling to believe it wasn't all a dream.

He used to always remind Derek how lucky he was to have a family like that, but he'd never stood by that statement so much like in that moment. And Derek had clearly noticed it, by how much he was enjoying himself.

At a certain point though, after God knows how many half hours had passed, when they had finished eating and were enjoying the faint inebriating effect of the wine, Sarah asked the question.

"So...since Derek has never really answered this clearly, and since your memory is kind of a big deal right? I'm gonna try and ask you..." she started, staring at Spencer with a grin on her face, keeping both him and Derek on their toes.

"...how did it happen?? Like, who confessed and when?"

"Sis we already talked about this!" Derek said face-palming, dramatically leaning back on his chair resigned to the fact that she would never stop asking until she was fed every teeny tiny detail.

"Shush! She's right, you never gave a legit answer!" Desirée added, coming to her sister's aid.

"Well, it's just fair that he hasn't given a clear answer because it's not easy to determine exactly when the 'confession' happened, cause there have always been a lot of...let's say mixed signals from both parts through the years, for lack of a better word" Spencer started. "but first of all I can safely say that Derek was the one who confessed first, and I guess that's kinda obvious being the confident, cocky kind of guy I think we can all agree that he is." he paused his narrative, turning his head to look at Derek's reaction while he accused him of being those things.

"Alright alright, I'll give you that. Keep going." Derek nodded smugly, shifting in his seat closer to Spencer to stretch his arm on the backrest of his chair.

"What's ironic though is, that it actually happened while we were FIGHTING, about a thing that happened on the job - which I'm not gonna elaborate cause I feel like 4 years, 1 month and 21 days later, he's STILL mad at m- hey! " Spencer got interrupted by a light hand-smack on his nape from Derek.

" 'Course I'm still mad at you, smartass!!"

"Alright, fair enough, point is," he cleared his voice in the attempt to stop chuckling. "point is, we had a big fight, and then Derek just...he just said it, out of nowhere." Spencer shrugged in conclusion to his story-telling, lowering his voice on that last bit, while drawing circles on the empty wine glass with his thumb.

There were a few seconds of complete silence, during which Derek stared at Spencer's perfect side profile, absorbed in that... life-changing memory he'd just brought back. "Life-changing" was the right adjective because he remembered very well that it hadn't been all good. But - seeing how things were now going between Spencer and him - certainly not even all bad. It sure as hell had changed their lives, though.

"See? It's not like I came dressed in white with a carriage and asked him to dance, lemme tell you we were fucking MAD at each other!" Derek broke the silence, speaking to his sisters.

"Alright, you could've just told us!" his mom replied among a choir of laughs, too amused by the comment to bother about the cuss that had slipped out of his son's mouth.

"Well I don't exactly strike as the dancer type, so with all due respect you guys could've easily ruled that out from the beginning!" Spencer added jokingly, supporting his boyfriend's thesis.

"You don't- what?? You asked me to dance just about a couple weeks ago at JJ's wedding, who're you tryna fool, genius??" Derek loved to joke around about that episode.

"But that's different! Slow dancing at weddings isn't dancing per say, that's common knowledge."

" 'common knowledge', blablabla, a'ight, we get it, you're the smartest in the room." Derek kept mocking him, rolling his eyes and air-quoting the words "common knowledge".

He reached his hand out to place it on the back of Spencer's head, affectionately running his slim fingers through his soft curls. "I'm still convinced you're a pretty good dancer." he added softly.

Spencer finally shifted his look from the glass to Derek's eyes, trying to hide his smile.

"That's not an unbiased opinion, though"

Derek's brows shot up. "Oh you're right, I forgot that you're my handsome, smart boyfriend for a second there. I do have a couple bias."

Spencer shot him a look that said: Jesus Christ, Derek. His cheeks could've easily melted like candle wax and he was about to fall off his chair from hearing that answer, so the stabbing glance was only fair - Spencer was clearly not yet worrying about the 100% worth probability of Derek later mentioning how "cute" and "adorable" his reaction and expression were in that moment. "You're lucky I didn't sprinkle that face of yours with kisses in front of everyone, pretty boy" he always said.

The three women didn't even try to interrupt that moment, absolutely struck by their chemistry. If anyone was still wondering how in the world two people so different like them could be a couple, it must've been because they hadn't yet seen a playful banter between those two like the one Desirée, Sarah and Fran had just witnessed. It was like watching a movie.

-

"Oh my! It's so late. You two should probably get back if you wanna get some sleep before your flight tomorrow." Fran pointed out half-heartedly, checking the clock hung on the wall in front of the table.

"You're right ma'. Though it's not like we get much sleep with this job anyway..." Derek added dry-wittingly and with a deep sigh, as he checked his own watch, too: it was around 10 pm. Not even so late if it were a normal day of work in Quantico, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. They had to drag their asses on the jet at 5 am the next morning.

Spencer was brought back to reality when they mentioned work, but mostly when Derek's warm fingers until then drawing patterns on his scalp abruptly pulled back; leaving him mentally complaining.

"Do you need help in the kitchen?" he asked Fran politely, seeing her standing up from her chair and starting to pile up the dishes.

"No baby c'mon, that's my job." Derek immediately dismissed the other's offer, before his mother had even had the time to do that herself; getting up too while subtly caressing Spencer's cheek with his knuckles.

The two managed to gather all the dirty dishes and glasses and cutlery in one run, and headed to the kitchen, leaving there a blushing Spencer - calling him "baby" in front of his family? Dear God - alone with Derek's sisters, in what he anticipated to be an awkward situation.

-

After an unsettling amount of seconds, Desirée's almost whispering voice breached through the silence, as if afraid of being heard from the other room.

"Ok so, the most important question now is-"

"Desi, come on!!" Sarah tried to stop her from asking what she was about to ask, lightly hitting her forearm with her hand.

"What?? You wanna know too, don't play innocent all of a sudden!" she lowered her voice once again, shifting her attention back to Spencer in front of her.

"As I was saying, question is... has he proposed yet? "

Spencer's brain stopped working - if that was even possible, for the genius with an IQ of 187. He should've expected such a question - should he, though? Really?? What the hell.

"No! No he- we've never talked about it, I don't- I don't know what he thinks of it, I don't even know what I think, to be honest" Spencer was having the hardest time putting his words together. If the topic had been marriage in general, he would've undoubtedly started blurting out statistics until everyone's ears were bleeding. But they were talking about Derek and his hypothetical marriage: he hadn't rehearsed for that one.

How was it possible that in all the years they'd been together, the thought of getting married hadn't even brushed his mind? Or Derek's? Was it a bad sign? Or maybe Derek HAD thought about it but was afraid of rejection? Wow. Yet another paranoid thought to haunt him now. Thank you, Desirée.

"But how's that possible?? You're literally the light of his life, I don't understand..." Sarah shared her thought out loud, crossing her arms and staring at an undefined spot on the table cloth, as if the lace embroideries could give her tangible answers to the question.

Spencer's smile was impossible to control now. He tried, he really did, but that night it seemed like they were all daring him to melt on the floor.

"Girls, don't steal him! I know he's pretty but he's MY pretty boy alright?" Derek's loud voice came from the kitchen, from where he could hear his sisters' bickering but couldn't decipher what they were saying - luckily.

Derek's comment was probably about the twentieth proof of what stated before - they were literally RACING on who would get Spencer's face to catch fire first.

-

Fran laughed at Derek's scolding, shaking her head.

"Well, for what it's worth, he really is gorgeous if you ask me." she said, finishing to wash the last fork and passing it to him so he could wipe it dry with a cloth.

"That makes two of us." Derek replied. "Actually a lot more than two, so I'm very lucky." he added, after being distracted by that thought for a few seconds.

"He's lucky too, you know? To have you in his life." his mom assured, affectionately stroking her son's shoulder with her small hand.

Derek sighed, finishing to dry the dishes out and rolling the sleeves of his button-up shirt back down to his wrists. "I don't know mama. Sometimes I feel like he's getting tired of me."

"Oh baby that's not possible, trust me. I've dated a bunch of guys when I was young, and the ones who looked at me like Spencer looks at you were the ones I had to dump because they never would have in a thousand years." she paused. "...until I met your father, and then we both looked at each other like that. Just like you two do." she concluded in a nostalgic tone, forcing a sad smile out of him.

"...have you asked him yet?" she changed the topic, after a long silence.

"Asked what?" Derek answered with a question, frowning.

"...to marry you? "

"What?? Mom, I don't know if- we've never even mentioned it- Jesus mama we don't even live together yet!" he replied, even more confused than before he got asked, trying to keep his voice low.

"Alright! No need to fuss like that! Take your time. But you should at least think about it, if you really wanna know what your mother thinks." she winked, before finally getting back to the other room, leaving Derek full of questions he didn't even know he had in the first place.

-

Spencer entered the small kitchen, holding Derek's leather jacket in his hand.

"You done?" he asked, handing it to him as Derek turned around to face him.

The man nodded in response, putting the jacket on.

"I wanna hear you say it." he then said, grinning at him with his arms folded on his chest.

"...say what?" Spencer asked, as if he didn't know what Derek wanted to hear, non-chalantly leaning against the counter.

Derek made a step closer, grabbing his jaw in one hand and trapping him between said counter and his hips.

"Just say it" he repeated, this time murmuring a few inches from his face.

Spencer tried to avoid his eyes, but it was almost impossible. Considering how he'd been kissed senseless against the door earlier in his hotel room, Spencer should've known better than to stand between Derek's body and whatever other vertical surface. He would never admit he didn't want to learn that lesson.

"...you were right." he finally confessed in a sigh, trying to contain his smile.

"Yes." Derek let out a whispered exult, before ultimately erasing that bit of space left between their lips. He cupped the back of Spencer's neck to prevent him from hitting the crown of his head against the metal handle of the cabinet above. Or to prevent him from escaping his mouth, whichever option one deems more realistic.

They kissed slowly and secretly, both struggling to stop the giggles and little smiles from interrupting it every 5 seconds, making it impossible for their tongues to keep prolonged contact.

-

The moment Spencer was starting to get carried away just enough to wrap his arms around Derek's neck, they heard an intentional fit of coughing coming from the threshold of the door.

They quickly and embarrassedly took their hands off of each other and turned around to face Sarah.

"Uhm, guys, it's starting to rain..." she said with a slight cringe on her face.

"Nice." Derek sighed. He took Spencer's hand and led the way out of the room and toward the front door.

They hugged and said their goodbyes to the three women, and Derek opened the door, letting Spencer out first.

His mom grabbed his arm before he could close the door behind his back. "Think about it." she mouthed, winking at her son.

Derek snorted and rolled his eyes in response.

When he stepped out and turned around, he saw Spencer looking blankly in front of them, sheltered by the porch, righteously frozen in spot and gaping: it wasn't simply "starting to rain". It was like someone from up there was literally pouring the whole Lake Michigan over their heads.

They exchanged a resigned look, before deciding unanimously to run toward the car, luckily parked only 30 ft away from the house.

-

"Shit." Spencer cursed under his breath when they finally got into the car, soaked from head to toe.

"Yeah" Derek agreed. "Maybe we can wait a lil until this mess calms down before heading back, what do you say?" he asked rhetorically.

"Most definitely." Spencer replied chuckling, tucking his wet hair behind his ears.

They stayed silent for a few minutes, listening to the relaxing sound of the water running down the windshield, making it absolutely impossible to distinguish the shapes of whatever was outside.

"So, uhm" Spencer broke the silence, interrupting himself immediately after to sigh annoyedly at his failed attempt to wipe dry his drooling-wet forehead with the sleeve of his equally wet jacket. He wanted to talk about that thing before he could lose any sleep over it.

"...your sisters asked me a question that left me...honestly, I don't even know if there's a word to describe my reaction in that moment." he continued, now pinching with his fingers the pants sticking to his thigh.

Derek's heart rate started to increase uncontrollably. He didn't say anything, letting Spencer finish, to have actual proof that he was gonna say what he thought he was gonna say; and just then, could legitimately freak out.

"Desirée asked if you had proposed yet." Spencer said straight up, still struggling to believe that he'd actually received such a question. "I didn't know how to justify the fact that neither of us has thought about it yet. I mean, should we have thought about it? Is it- is it an option? I don't even know I just- I don't know. I don't know what to think about this so please tell me that you have a vague idea of what to do with that question." Spencer finished talking, leaving Derek speechless. Now, he had the right to freak out.

Derek let his forehead drop on the steering wheel, chuckling to himself - he didn't even know where to start.

"A'ight, uhm...mom asked me, too." he finally confessed, pulling himself together just enough to sit up straight again. "I don't know if it was all calculated, but it wouldn't be surprising if it was, now would it?"

"Definitely not." Spencer replied laughing.

Derek cleared his voice and got a little more serious. "Of course I told her I didn't ask you to marry me... yet. I guess. Dammit, I don't know, am I supposed to know?"

"I don't know!"

"How are we even gonna talk about it if we don't know? She told me to 'think about it', think about what??" Derek was freaking out way more than Spencer was, which was the most unexpected turn of events ever.

"Ok Derek stop for a second." Spencer said in a soothing tone, turning slightly to his left to look at him better as he grabbed his hand. Derek quieted down and stared deep into his boyfriend's gentle eyes, entwining their fingers together.

"It's hard to picture it because of our job. That's literally the whole point. The only point, to be fair, cause- look, I don't know if I wanna get married, what I know is that I...I think I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with you...you know? It sounds cheesy I know, but there's no other proper way to say it..."

Spencer's words calmed Derek down. He let go of his hand to caress the back of his neck, staring silently at him as his smart brain formulated the next things to say.

"and- and maybe, in the future, when the job and everything else falls into place...maybe we could consider signing a piece of paper, I guess. But the point is that if you asked me in this exact moment I'd say yes because- because yes, I want to be with you- but there's no pressure what so ever cause this is what I think and maybe I'm not making any sense to you right now and you don't ever wanna get married or...or be with me forever and- and it's ok, I'm just tryna figure my thoughts out-"

"Kid. It does. It makes sense to me, too. All of it." Derek was the one speaking sensibly now. He leaned closer and started to run his fingers through Spencer's damp hair to relax him.

"...do you want me to give you statistics about divorces within the first 3 years of marriage in homosexual couples?" Spencer asked after a few seconds of silence, though it wasn't so much a question rather an excuse to put a halt to the gears overdriving in his mind.

Derek burst into such a glee, beautiful sounding laugh, Spencer was on the verge of swooning. He swore if saying lame jokes was the way to hear that laugh 24 hours a day, he would've recorded himself saying them and played them to him non-stop. That was husband material, no doubt.

"Baby, you know I'm always here to listen to your ramblings, but I really don't think we should be discussing divorces before even having got married, what do you think?" the man said eventually, once his laugh had quieted down.

Even having predicted such an answer, the words Derek said and the way he said them didn't fail to make Spencer giggle and flush - a downside to his attempted teasings he'd found himself fall into a quadrillion times during the years. Another of many lessons he wasn't quite willing to learn.

-

After that, they stayed in silence for a while, staring into each other's eyes. From the sound of it, they noticed the rain had almost completely settled down.

Spencer timidly inched forward and laid a kiss on the corner of Derek's lips.

"I love you." he whispered, before placing his palm behind his neck to push him deeper into his mouth.

The moment Spencer pronounced those words and blessed him with one of his sugar-kisses, Derek started to contemplate that if spending the rest of his days with that man meant wet-making out in the car; and cozy family dinners, awkward questions included; and that sweet voice of his endlessly pouring his smart - oh, so smart - brain out to him at 3 am; and velvet tongue healing his bruised skin; and slow dancing even if it wasn't "dancing per say"; and feather-like fingers drawing goosebumps underneath his clothes; and being unable to stay angry at such a gorgeous face for too long - then he could've signed that piece of paper right there, right then.

When he woke up from that thought, Derek realized that the gap between their car seats that was keeping their bodies apart was starting to bother him. He pulled out of that tongue-melting kiss.

"We should get going now that it's not raining anymore." he said breathily.

Spencer nodded, swallowing the rich taste Derek's mouth left into his. "Yeah." he shivered. " 'm starting to get cold..."

Derek started the car, smirking as Spencer's words prompted a very specific thought to crawl its way into his head.

"We could keep warm actually doing that thing we were about to do earlier in your room."

[aquaticalay]

Centurion .Chapter Seven.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sequel to For Something Greater

Summary: (Y/n) is an active duty Navy SEAL Commander, the first and only woman to ever become a SEAL. After successfully stopping a genocide with the help of the Avengers, she becomes a bridge between the military and the earth's mightiest heroes. But even as her relationship with Bucky grows, she decides not to tell him about the nightmares and trauma that haunt her. Both their secrets begin to unravel when Bucky accidentally stumbles upon a piece of dangerous information about (Y/n) that she must never find out about.

Genre: Action, Drama, Romance

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, death, eventual smut, PTSD

Warning/s for the chapter: mentions of PTSD, violence, death

Word count: 3.4k

Note: The plot is heavily inspired by the song 'in the dark' by Bring Me The Horizon, and 'Mercy' by Muse. So yeah, go listen to it if you want to :)))  I'll post a new chapter every two days.

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist!

(Taglist will be reblogged)

THIS IS A SEQUEL TO 'FOR SOMETHING GREATER.' IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT, THE MASTERLIST IS IN MY BIO.

TRIGGER WARNING! THIS SERIES REVOLVES AROUND POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER. (Including, but not limited to: anxiety/panic attacks, extreme mood swings , nightmares, intrusive thoughts, insomnia, irritability, hypervigilance, and hyperarousal)

Bucky had told you he was going to get back in a few hours— maybe an hour or two. The reason it would take so long was because a few military personnel from the US Navy and Marine Corps Reserve in Brooklyn had just teamed up with the NYPD to question him. They think this is a high level military threat, and they were right to think so. With Sam reported missing, you were betting every military base in not only in America, but all around the globe, was on high alert.

You couldn't wait for Bucky any longer. You had to see for yourself that he was okay.

You put on a dark green jacket and cargo pants, as well as taking your silver SEAL trident pin with you. You also put on Bucky's dog tags. Not only because you might need it, but for comfort, too.

You passed the avengers in their meeting room, as they called for an emergency meeting. You could not hear anything from the soundproof room.

You didn't want to disturb them, so you told Friday where you were going.

"Friday?" you called, "When the meeting is done, tell them I'm going to see Bucky."

"Will do," the AI confirmed.

You went down the basement got in a car.

When you drove out, you noticed that everyone on the street looked distressed. They stopped in their tracks to look at the breaking news from TV stores on the streets and in cafès. A lot of them were frantically calling family members and loved ones to make sure they were okay.

Suddenly, a horrible memory flooded over you.

You've only ever seen this kind collective grieving once in your life. 

You must've been twelve or thirteen when the planes crashed into the twin towers. It happened a few years after your parents were killed by suicide bombers in Iraq.

You were already under foster care in New York, under Aisha. You were walking to school then, when your old Nokia phone buzzed and rang with dozens of messages. 

Come home

!!

Emergency

You read the texts from your foster mother.

Sensing distress, you ran back to her apartment, where she was looking at the TV in horror. What you saw on was the most disturbing thing a child had to see.

Live footage of planes crashing through towers, people jumping to their deaths and hit by debris while they try to run for their lives. It was bloody and violent, but you can't look away. You were reminded too much of the reports of your parent's death.

You cried for hours and hours on end that night, curled into Aisha's arms for comfort. Aisha was deaf— she could not hear your howling grief, but she could feel the vibrations of your sobs, humming from your chest and throughout your small, fragile body.

After that day, Aisha got the worst of it.

As a veiled muslim woman, she had to fight prejudice for the rest of her life.

It wasn't fair, you knew, that a whole group of people had to face the consequences of something they didn't do, just because a tiny population who identified as they did were led astray. You remember seeing Aisha come home from the mosque one day, her eyes bruised badly, blotchy and swelling ugly purple. Her hijab was messy and torn apart at the edges. It was clear someone had attacked her.

What happened? you signed worriedly, moving your fingers in American Sign Language. Tears started sting down your chin. She had forced a smile and replied, signing, It's nothing. She took you to bed that night, convincing you that it was nothing she couldn't take.

You were suddenly reminded again, why you wanted to serve and join the Navy SEALs  Because you wanted to stop anyone from doing anymore harm. You did it for your parents, who died in Iraq, and for Aisha, who had to endure years of hatred for something she didn't do; something that millions of innocent people had to go through just because of their religious background, and how the majority sees them. It was unfair.

A noble purpose, but you ended up with blood on your hands along the way. Unintentional, but blood, thick and red, nonetheless.

The grieving people you were seeing right now was somewhat similar, people scared for their lives and bracing in case of a second attack. You didn't blame them, the missile took out two entire New Jersey blocks, after all, with fires creeping up to surrounding buildings.

Your short daze was cut off when your phone rang. Connected to the bluetooth speaker, you hit a button on the console to take the call.

"Hello?" You answered, your attention divided between steering the car and talking to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"(L/n)?" Said a familiar voice, "This is Tanaka. Naomi Tanaka."

You find yourself relieved at the sound of your old friend. "What's going on?" You asked, preparing for the worst.

"Your squadron told me you were in New York," she said, "I'm glad you're okay. Command might need you in Seattle in a few days. But for now, stay grounded. The airspace isn't safe."

You nodded unconsciously, "Okay. Anything else?"

"No, not really," she said, "just stay alert. And answer your calĺs."

"Yes Ma'am," you told her. You hung the call up soon after, diverting all your attention back on the road in front of you.

You arrived at Nick Fury's apartment block half an hour later, or at least whatever was left of it. The block was completely destroyed, going up in flames. The firefighters were still trying to contain the raging fire. The NYPD was evacuating nearby civilians, and you could see reporters, journalists, and news media vans all around, crowding as far as the eye can see. People were shouting and screeching, body bags on the streets waiting to be transported to the morgue, the injured victims being carried into ambulances.

There were 24 confirmed dead when you last saw the news thirty minutes ago, but from the looks of it, the numbers mist have risen. You estimated 40, maybe 50 dead, including bodies of children too small to fit into the big black bags. Sadly, from the looks of the current situation, the casualty rate was only getting higher and higher.

You got out of your car, walking quickly to the site. You flinched as you saw a fireman carry a wounded young man. His scream of pain echoed in your head as half his face was burned off, boiling red and almost inhuman.

Breathe, you thought to yourself.

As you were about to cross the police line and near the missile crash, an officer stopped you. "Miss," he shouted, "I don't care about your news story. Journalists stay behind the line, okay?"

"I'm not a journalist," you pulled your trident pin out of your pocket, "I'm with the navy." You showed the glinting silver pin and he came closer to inspect it.

You pulled Bucky's dog tag from under your shirt, "and I'm here to see Sergeant James Barnes."

He fiddled with it until he was sure it was authentic, then he gave them back to you. "Come with me, Miss."

You walked three blocks down with him and made a turn to a crowded corner. 

It was an NYPD office. It wasn't big, but wasn't small,either. The front of it was packed with reporters, trying to get a peek inside.

"Sergeant Barnes is being interrogated by a detective in there. There are Marines and few Navy sailors, too, I think," said the cop. 

You nodded in gratitude, "Thank you."

He went back to his post, walking the other way. You had to mutter a few "excuse me"s and "coming through"s and you had to push through the crowds of reporters.

You finally made the front of the line and stepped up the short flight of stairs, where two marines stood by the door. You knew they were marines by their service dress uniform– a dull green dress coat and pants with a beige shirt and tie underneath.

One of them saw you step closer and put a hand out to stop you in your tracks, "I'm sorry Ma'am, you're not allowed inside."

Once again, you were forced to show them their trident pin. "Relax, jarheads," you played it a bit coyly with the nickname, "I'm a sailor."

They nodded, letting you pass. They did not question you, or say another word.

Inside the NYPD station was a few other marines and sailors, wearing khaki shirts and black pants. Two Marines were wearing their cammies, and a sailor was wearing their Navy Working Uniform.

You counted five sailors and eight marines in total, including the ones up front.

Police officers were also walking around in circles, trying to respond to civilian needs as best as they could, dispatching units and ambulances. You kept your trident pin up so no one would ask your identification.

"Commander (L/n)!" called a voice, and you turned to the side. You saw and recognized Lieutenant Garrows, one of the people who had trained you during your early days in the Navy bootcamp.

"Lieutenant," you smiled, shaking his hand. He was five inches taller than you, his working uniform complimenting his dark complexion. He must've been in his early sixties now, a few years short of retirement, "I need to know where James Barnes is, sir."

Even though you spot a little doubt in his expression, he lead you in front of an interrogation room, where the halls were dimly lit. It was a one way mirror. You could see Bucky being asked questions by a detective, but you weren't sure if he could see you. The room was heavily soundproofed, which meant you couldn't hear anything.

Still, you were relieved to see him safe. His human arm was only a little scorched by the heat and a couple patches burned through his tactical uniform, but he would get by.

It was hard to know if his heightened vision could see through the glass, but when you saw Bucky smile to the side, just a little, you knew he could. You returned the smile, giving only a slight tug on the edge of your mouth. You could thank the supersoldier serum for that.

"Hm," said Lieutenant Garrows, eyebrows furrowing in curiosity, "He seems happy to see you."

You let out a small laugh. Garrows was like a second father to you and Naomi Tanaka in the Navy bootcamp. He was the most disciplined trainer when necessary, but an all-round nice guy that you's get drinks with during downtime. You hated that your reunion was the byproduct of a tragedy, but you were grateful he was here. If you remembered anything about him, it was that he was an extremely skilled sharpshooter, which also meant he had an equally sharp pair of eyes. No matter how small the gesture had been, his trained eye had spotted Bucky's smile.

"Yeah," you nodded, fondness seeping out of your voice.

If he wanted to ask, he did not. An honorable man like Garrows would not want to delve into your personal life. That was none of his business.

"Well, I gotta do some paperwork," he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Stay here as long as you'd like to, Commander." 

You nodded wordlessly, and he left you there to watch the soundless conversation. Though your early years with Aisha made you pretty good at lip reading, Bucky's facial hair made him particularly hard to read. On the other hand, the detective was clean shaven, with the exception of the slight stubble around his chin.

'Do you know whose apartment was it?' You read the detective's lips. You saw Bucky shook his head, probably telling him that he didn't.

He was maintaining the lie. Yours, to be exact, covering up your tracks.

'Then why were you there?' You read his lips again.

Bucky replied with a string of words quickly that was too hard for you to make out.

Whatever he said was enough to satisfy the detective. He nodded, writing a few notes before offering his hand to Bucky to shake. 'Thank you for your cooperation, Sergeant Barnes,' you read his mouth. Bucky nodded, and both him and the detective head out the room

When the detective opened the door, he looked at you, wondering who you were. He did not ask anything, keeping his head down.

Bucky was behind him, and when he saw you, he gave you a short kiss to your temple, and squeezed your hand once tightly before letting go.

"Hey, you," he muttered, a taint of sadness in his voice, "Sam, he—" He started to say, but you shook your head. "Not here," you told him, "In the car."

-

You and Bucky had managed to evade reporters, since they were too busy covering the crash site. The fires were starting to ease, but the bodies were beginning to pile up.

You entered your car, Bucky on the passenger seat.

"Sam," he finally breathed out, nothing to hide anymore, "this human figure, they had a fireproof suit and mask. They were specifically targeting Sam," there was distress in his cracked voice, which broke your heart. "The figure didn't want me. They looked like they knew exactly what they were doing. I– why not me?" He asked with a slightly shaking tone.

"It's not your fault," you told him firmly, "we'll find him together, like we always do, okay?"

Hesitantly, he nodded. He was calmed down by your presence, and in turn, you were, too.

"What did you say to the detective, anyway?" You asked.

"Told him part of the truth," he said, "That an NYPD officer requested assistance when he found a weird breaking and entering report. I didn't tell him it was Nick Fury's, or that we were there this morning." He took a deep breath, "The only weird thing is that they told me they have no record of which officer requested assistance."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Are they launching an investigation?"

Bucky nodded, "The case will be investigated by the government."

You sighed in frustration, nearly growling, "then we have to figure it out before they do. You know they wouldn't tell us if they found anything, right? Hell, even when I found Mercy 21, they wouldn't tell me a single goddamn thing about her reports. I found her. I at least deserve to know! but they wouldn't tell me shit!" You gripped the steering wheel until your knuckles were red, your voice getting louder and laced with anger, "Hydra took so much from me," your mind recalled of your fallen comrades, killed by King-Carver. "And from you, too, James. Project Mercy and Petrov might as well be the last bit of Hydra still roaming free. We deserve to know," you repeated this point, "They can't keep us in the dark like that, and at this point I'm willing to take matters into my own hands."

Bucky look at you worriedly. He had lost Sam, he wasn't going to lose you, too. "It's too dangerous. We don't even know it's Petrov."

You frowned, disappointed at his words. Suddenly, your voice softened, straining, "I have to take the chance— I can't rest until I know Hydra is completely off the face of the earth. I can't even sleep well, James." Your tone was breathy and desperate, clinging on to whatever energy you had left.

Bucky looked taken aback. Were you really not resting well? Why didn't you tell him before? Did you not trust him enough?

"Doll, I—" he started to say gently, but your phone rang through the bluetooth audio, cutting him off abruptly.

You answered it with the push of a button, motioning him to stay quiet.

"Hello?" You called.

"(L/n)," you heard the voice you had talked to earlier that night. "Are you alone?" Tanaka asked.

You lifted an eyebrow and glanced at Bucky, who remained quiet. "Yes," you lied.

"Good," she said, "We managed to track a bomber plane, most likely the one who launched the missile. We intercepted the signal, and it looks like they're heading to Kaunas, Lithuania. Airmen wanted to take them down, but there's a good chance Sam Wilson is in there."

Both your posture and Bucky's straightened, eyes wide in shock. That was an impressively quick find.

 "What's the next move?" You asked, clearing your throat

"Black squadron will collect intel," she confirmed, "Your squa— white squadron will be sent there in an assault and rescue operation after the plans are cleared, understood?"

"What about the Avengers?" You asked, looking at Bucky from the corner of your eyes, "They will be expected to be searching for Wilson, too."

"I have contacted Clint Barton," Tanaka said, "He said the Avengers agreed to stand down on this one, as written on the council. The council states that as long as they haven't agreed to the terms, whoever response first has full control of the situation. Besides, they agreed because they know you will be leading the operation. They trust you, (L/n). From what I can tell, after the King-Carver incident, they consider you one of them."

You gulped, swallowing a stream of guilt down your throat. They trusted you that much, huh?

"When will we be deployed?" You asked.

"Four days," Tanaka said.

"Yes, Ma'am," it was the last thing you said before hanging up.

"Four days…" Bucky muttered, his voice calculating.

"You know Sam may not have that much time, right?" Your chest heaved and fell in panic, "And you heard where the plane is going, right? This is the confirmation we need. This is Petrov!"

You saw the look in Bucky's eyes, and knew you were right. He also knew the Avengers trusted you and your squadron too much, and that they weren't going against the government again. They didn't have enough intel on this operation, nor were they willing to sacrifice more than they have.

Because last time, the sokovia accords broke them apart, eventually being one of the reasons why half the population of the universe were turned to dust. Even if they made it right in the end, they were risking way too much. 

He also knew that Sam might not have that kind of time.

"We have to get there, the sooner the better," you tried to convince him.

"Alright," Bucky nodded, and this time there was no hesitation in his voice, "Get some good sleep tonight, we go tomorrow at dawn." He rested a hand on your thigh, the slightest grin on his face, "and remember, if you have bad dreams, I'll fight them off with my bare hands, doll."

You felt a sense of comfort roll over you. You believed him.

~

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp...This is Festive Fic!

Hello again, internet! ‘Tis the season for lots of food and Starbucks holiday drinks and trope-filled holiday fic, of which I have written just a copious amount over the last few years. I’m sure I’ll have some Christmas fic sooner rather than later because of who I am as a person, but in the meantime, here are some words. I hope you all get everything you want over the next few weeks with lots of smiles and enough snow in December that it looks festive, but isn’t annoying to drive in. 

----

Thanksgiving Fic

In Case of Emergency, Call... Killian just wants to make cookies. Alone. On Thanksgiving. What he gets is a rolled ankle and a hospital trip and a best friend worried out of her mind. (Modern AU)

To Grandmother's House We Go There’s no Thanksgiving equivalent in the Enchanted Forest, but there is a little bit of magic and that’s enough to bring a family together across holidays and realms. (Future Canon-esque)

Whistled for Icing Elsa left behind a bit of magic in the forest and the citizens of Storybrooke are ready to put it to good use. (Future Canon-esque)

Concussion Protocol  The Rangers are on the road, Mary Margaret is baking pie and Emma is far more worried than she expected to be as soon as she hears Killian slam into the boards. (Blue Line)

Dinner on the Road The Jones Line finds a restaurant for Thanksgiving and a brand-new look for its youngest member. (Blue Line)

Christmas and New Year’s fic under the cut. Once again, because of who I am as a person.

Christmas Fic

To Make the Season Bright It’s just one weekend. At Christmas. In New York. With everyone there. With Killian there. It’s fine. Emma doesn’t mind – he’s always there and she wants him to be there and it’ll be good. Great, even. Festive. 

She’s looking forward to it.

She just hopes she doesn’t do something stupid. Like shout feelings in his face. That probably wouldn’t be very festive. (Modern AU, multi-chapter)

It’s the Thought That Counts It was, in theory, a good idea. It was, in theory, an absolutely fantastic idea. Because there was still, sometimes, a crisis or two in Storybrooke and nothing would be more chaotic than trying to find a Christmas present on Main Street, while also trying to keep said Christmas present a secret. Ordering gifts on the internet makes sense. It’s just a few clicks and online sales and the presents will be there in plenty of time for Christmas to be perfect.

Emma and Killian are positive.

Except then the presents don’t show up and it’s Christmas Eve and plan B isn’t so much a plan as it is just a bit of pre-holiday desperation and the entire town knows what they’re up to. (Canon Future-esque, multi-chapter)

A Fair, Even-Handed, Noble Adjustment of Things Emma just wants to do something good. Give back. Maybe get a few bonus points. Metaphorically speaking. Not the last one. That defeats the purpose of all of this. But she can’t really think straight because he keeps humming and using nicknames and stealing all the flour. And she’d give up all the bonus points she’s, maybe, accumulated by, possibly, doing good if she could just remember what his name is. This is not going the way she planned. At all. (Modern AU)

Heart to Heart and Hand in Hand She was cold. She was tired. She did not want to be ice skating. She wasn’t really ice skating. She was just…kind of standing there – while getting yelled at by security guards and stared at by her boyfriend and they were being pushed off the ice. Not literally. And Emma knew she was being a Grinch or, maybe, just Max the Dog because she wasn’t in control enough to be a Grinch, but Killian wanted to go ice skating and well…fake it ‘til you make it festivity, right? (Modern AU)

The Gift Receipt It genuinely makes sense in her head. After all, Mary Margaret is being Mary Margaret and Emma just needs five seconds to herself and for her friends to get off her back and saying she can’t talk to Killian Jones because she and Killian Jones once went on a very bad date is the perfect excuse. It’s also not true, but whatever. It works. Until Emma needs to bring someone home for Christmas. To get the entire town off her back. So, she comes up with another plan and another lie and pretending to get back together with a guy she was never actually with will make their inevitable break-up incredibly easy. It makes sense. Seriously. That is, of course, until Killian agrees and there’s far too much pie and radio hits of the 70s and opinions on animated Christmas classics. It gets a little more complicated after that. (Modern AU, multi-chapter)

Older Now, But Not Done Hoping Killian Jones has lost his festive spirit. It’s been forcibly removed by corporate America and private developers and how much alcohol the customers at his bar drink every night. Although, he supposes, that means he’s making a profit, but that also feels a little Scrooge-esque and he doesn’t have time for visits from ghosts.

Because he’s suddenly got a whole schedule in front of him, written out and planned by his roommate. To reclaim their mutual and collective festivity. Together. Oh, and he’s in love with her. At Christmas. And all the time, really.

This is going to be great. (Modern AU, multi-chapter)

Kiss Her Once [For Me]

To say that the last year has been hectic would be the greatest understatement in the history of the modern world. Or, like, libel. In print, it’s libel.

Because the last year has been filled with political promises and campaigns and far more press conferences than Emma realized were possible. And now, with Washington D.C. ahead of them, the only thing Emma really wants is to figure out how many boxes she’ll need to move all her stuff.

That is, of course, until Killian finds her sitting in the middle of Regina’s hallway, a distinct lack of alcohol in her system, and the guarantee that he’s got a plan. For fun. Of the festive variety. It includes mistletoe. (Modern AU)

A Few Days Off for Christmas “How long do you think a person can go without sleep before they succumb to complete madness?” “Eleven days,” Killian responded immediately. Emma’s head jerked back, eyebrows pulled low and the bags under her eyes somehow felt heavier. “Why is that a thing you just know?” “I didn’t until somewhere in between Calgary and Vancouver and Scarlet thought it would be hysterical to find out how long I could actually go before passing out on the ice. Bad jokes, it seems, are some kind of trend these days.” (Blue Line)

Dropping Gloves...in the Name of Festive Fashion It’s probably one of the more ridiculous things any of them have ever done. It’s also one of the better ideas any of them has ever had – it’s festive and in the spirit and the fans will love it. And maybe it’s kind of fun because it ends with another win and some positive press before the break and Phillip’s jacket is really just…a work of fashion art. The way Emma laughs at his jacket and sweater combination a few hours before puck drop is just a bonus. (Blue Line)

All Knotted Up He’s never actually done anything like this – brought a girl home for Christmas. No, not just a girl – Emma. Emma was coming to the brownstone for Christmas and the entire Vankald family would be there with traditions and bread pudding and there had to be gifts.He needed to buy a gift. Or, at least, get a gift. And the list of people who wouldn’t laugh right in his face at the idea of Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, freaking out about that was growing more and more slim by the minute. (Blue Line)

Have Your Cake [And Eat It Too]  Killian can't seem to stop moving. It's a nervous habit. He's a little nervous. Because they've been waiting forever and he's been waiting forever and he really just wants them to be a family. Officially.

Emma needs to keep moving. To win. She's very competitive. And she's needs a distraction. Because they've been waiting forever and trying a bit longer and she really just wants them to be a family. Officially

Or: Another quasi Out of the Frying Pan sequel with the legal system and Kitchen Stadium.

A Spark of Piracy Late-night blanket theft inspires Killian to remember his piratical beginnings. (Future Canon-esque)

Santa-Con Emma and Killian join their friends for Santa Con in midtown, with surprising results. (Modern AU)

New Year’s Fic

We'll Take a Cup (defense) of Kindness

It's one night. New Year's Eve. And a whole list of rules. Because Regina might have actually lost her mind. Or maybe that's just Emma. Because they've played a million games in two days, or it's at least felt that way, and planning an outdoor practice a few weeks before the Olympics seemed like a good idea at one point. Now it just seems insane. So she's going to wear this dress and kiss her boyfriend. A lot.

He's good. Better than good. Great. The greatest. It's New Year's Day and, yeah, sure it's freezing, but Killian hasn't actually tried to push Scarlet on the Subway tracks yet so that seems like a step in the right direction. So he's a little distracted a few weeks before the Olympics, but that's fine. It's good. Or it'll be good. Eventually. Soon. In the meantime he's probably just going to kiss his girlfriend. A lot. (Blue Line)

[my-miraculous-headcanons]

Maximilian’s Fic Recs

My personal recs for the Miraculous Ladybug fandom. I’ll be rating each story out of 5 stars for both angst and fluff. Honestly, I’ve read a whole lot of stories that I just absolutely love, but these are the top ones that I remember.

I should make a point of saying this— Not all of these are romance fics. In fact, most of these are probably not going to be romance fics. My favourite fics tend to be ones that don’t focus strongly on romance. 

I’m also going to try to be as vague as possibly in my reviews so I don’t spoil anything too much. If you want anything more specific, you should check the summaries the authors put up on their stories, as well as the maturity ratings.

Incomplete and/or Ongoing Fics

Through A Doll’s Eyes — Incomplete Angst:✦✦✦✦✧ Fluff:✦✦✦✧✧ Review: This story is simply phenomenal. It deals with the idea of inanimate objects having a sort of a soul, specifically objects hand-made with love and care. There were many instances in this story where I was close to tears. I loved it, I loved Marinette, her perseverance, and heart of gold. The way she watched over her families over the years and cared so whole-heartedly. I’m upset that there wasn’t more. Unfortunately, it hasn’t updated in a long while, and I don’t think it will in the future.

Red For Fortune — Incomplete/Ongoing(?) Angst:✦✦✦✧✧ Fluff:✦✧✧✧✧ Review: REALLY loved this!!! Honestly, I love any fics that touch on Marinette’s biracial heritage, but this one seriously takes the cake. And I like that this is one of the stories where they don’t make the nice white friend somehow knowledgable of racial issues. They don’t understand what’s racist and what’s not, they don’t understand why Marinette’s so upset, and they need to figure out why they’re wrong on their own. They’re ignorant, aren’t excused for their ignorance, and aren’t portrayed as being a horrible human being at the same time. They fucked up and need to learn a lesson, simple as that.

Voyance — Incomplete/Ongoing Angst:✦✦✦✧✧ Fluff:✦✦✧✧✧ Review: I honestly wasn’t expecting to get so enamored with this story when I first clicked on it, but it quickly dug its way into my heart and planted itself there. It’s an ongoing story that is truly satisfying, to say the least. Characters are told point-blank what they’re like and how they need to improve, and no matter how indignant the character is, they always leave respecting the tarot reader’s abilities. (Except maybe Alya, but that’s for a reason.)

#BonAnniversairePrincess — Incomplete Angst:✦✦✧✧✧ Fluff:✦✦✦✦✧ Review: Truly one of the sweetest fics I’ve read. Marinette being treated like the princess she deserves to be is one of my favourite things to see in fanfic. (If it wasn’t obvious already, I REALLY love her.) 

Missing — Incomplete/Ongoing Angst:✦✦✦✦✦ Fluff:✧✧✧✧✧ Review: No fluff to see here! A good, angsty Marinette-centric fanfic without really focusing on Marinette’s point of view too much, which is something I love quite a bit. The Lila salt is strong in this one, too, which basically makes me love it more and more. I’m anticipating each and every update.

#No R-Agrestes — Incomplete/Ongoing Angst:✦✧✧✧✧ Fluff:✦✦✦✦✦ Review: Honestly Marinette is an absolute walking, talking natural disaster in this and I need you all just to read it please it’s just. So funny and good. 

Complete and/or One-shot Fics

Oleanders and Belladonas — Complete Angst:✦✦✦✦✧ Fluff:✦✦✧✧✧ Review: This is a fic with an akuma that’s treated like a legitimate murder mystery, and I’m in love with it. I’m a HUGE fan of murder mysteries, but I’m also not a fan of children dying or there being too much gore. This is not a terribly gory story and still manages to give you a sense of suspense and thrill, satisfying all my wants. I was positively giddy through a lot of this, and not because it was funny. It was just that good. 

What The Cat Dragged In — Complete Angst:✦✧✧✧✧ Fluff:✦✦✦✦✧ Review: I’m usually not crazy about crossover fics, but this was done rather beautifully. Many characters truly shine in this, both in personality and intelligence, and I sincerely loved every word. Every part of this story is engaging and fun. 

Girl’s Night Out — Complete Angst:✧✧✧✧✧ Fluff:✦✦✦✦✧ Review: This is honestly just one of the most hilarious fics ever. Marinette is a badass, Adrien doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, and everything is practically burning down around them. I couldn’t ask for anything better even if I tried. 

The Second’s Lament; Walking to Paris — Complete/One-shot Angst:✦✧✧✧✧ Fluff:✦✦✦✦✦ Review: This story honestly is just straight up adorable. It’s sweet, long, and calming. It’s just absolutely beautiful, and I wish there was more. I have a soft spot for unusual scenarios like this. I also have a MAJOR soft spot for friendship bordering romantic Marichat. This story encapsulates EXACTLY everything I want in Marichat and I’m just ecstatic about it.

Elephant — Complete Angst:✧✧✧✧✧ Fluff:✦✦✦✦✧ Review: Another absolutely hilarious shenanigans fic that I will NEVER forget. I’m particularly happy over the fact that there’s two endings you can pick from, which is weird because I’m not one to like multiple endings. I suggest reading this when you need a laugh or a pick-me-up, because this will certainly do the trick.

Welcome to WC — Complete/One-shot Angst:✦✧✧✧✧ Fluff:✦✦✦✦✧ Review: Honestly this is so funny and cute at the same time. The fact that these two idiots just ignored everything around them was so funny I can’t even describe it. I found myself struggling to keep quiet. 

Botched Blind Dates — Complete Angst:✧✧✧✧✧ Fluff:✦✦✦✦✦ Review: This is just wholesome all the way through, and also pretty hilarious. I love the whole blind dates trope, especially in AUs, but this concept, which expands on Nino’s interest in film (which I’m VERY happy about), is even better and much more engaging. I also love that Chloe is considered a friend and good person without sacrificing her key characteristics. 

Series

I won’t be putting an Angst/Fluff rating on these since the different stories within the series can have varying levels of angst and fluff.

Unconventional Scenarios — Incomplete/Ongoing Review: I had fun reading all of these stories. At some points it was depressing, in others it was super funny, and sometimes it was just super sweet. 

Allez Savoir Pourquoi — Complete Review: Honestly one of the most well-written soulmate AU’s I’ve read in a while. Marinette and Adrien are adorable in this, and Adrien’s STILL a Big Dummy which I am happy about, because that’s my favourite characteristic of his.

Miraculous: Tales of Littlebug and Chaton Noir — Incomplete/Ongoing(?) Review: I have nothing to say other than you should do yourself a favor and READ THIS. I think about it all the time. Every day. Nothing can possibly top how cute this series is. I daydream about it and giggle randomly sometimes when I remember it. It’s just,,, SO ridiculously cute.

BAMF Mari — Incomplete/Ongoing(?) Review: I honestly love any story where Adrien realises that Marinette’s a badass, and this series takes that idea and ramps it up to a million. It’s funny, awkward, and adorable. I love that it almost entirely switches up the dynamics- Marinette’s calmed down and Adrien’s a total ball of anxiety and teenaged hormones. It’s brilliant. I guarantee you’ll be smiling throughout the whole series.

It Was Only Meant To Be A One-Shot — Incomplete/Ongoing Review: I very recently read this and I loved absolutely every minute of it, and I can’t wait to see the next installation to the series. Every character gets their moment to shine (with the exception of Gabriel), and this includes Emilie Agreste, who isn’t treated as a flawless human being. There’s No Camembert in Tibet, the sequel to the first fic, Plagg and the Butterfly Costume, was completed about two days ago, and I’m very satisfied. And super excited!!!

Some of my angst/fluff ratings may not be totally accurate because I haven’t had the time to reread every fic, but I believe it’s still accurate enough.

This list will definitely be updated in the future.

[donaldresslerfanfic]

Back at it.

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual Content.

Word Count: 3353

Donald Ressler X OC Maggie Waters.

Chapter: Eighty.

Chapter Index

Story on Wattpad

Ressler. 

I never in a million years would have dared to admit that going out with friends was better than to stay at home with a woman. Most days I still preferred it, but it only took me taking my time to be a bit alone to find out that I could enjoy myself without Mags with me, that there was somehow fun without her.

After she came back it became a thing, I would go out with my friends once a week and she went out with hers once a week. I mean, she already went out with hers once a week before, and I'd read and had been told that it was good for her, so of course I encouraged her to leave the house for a night and just worry about herself, I think that times alone like those were the thing that was keeping us all sane, because she was my thermometer, if she was fine everything was fine.

It was my night to go out after an office day with the guys at the taskforce, and before I could take off my jacket and sit down at the table with a beer, I caught a glimpse of director Cooper near the entrance, I frowned and wondered what he was doing there.

I saw him scan the room until he found me, our gazes crossed and it was my signal to know that he was there looking for me.

"I'll be right back" I said, shrugging my jacket back on and walking towards him. I followed him to one of the tables on the less concurred part of the bar.

"Agent Ressler" he saluted politely. I gave him a nod back and leaned on the table "I hope you don't mind I got in contact with your wife to find out where you were, you were hard to reach today"

I ducked my hand into my inner pocket to look for my phone.

"We were in a "no distractions" type situation today" I excused as I put my phone back on ring mode and saw that I had, in fact, 5 missed calls from him and one from Mags.

"I can imagine, I'm aware of your most recent work with your current taskforce" he motioned with his head back at the table "you've kept busy"

"Yeah, thankfully" I nodded.

"I got into contact with our informant" he continued. "He's not very fond of the idea but Main Justice is pushing for us to return, keep the agreement going"

I scoffed and shook my head.

"He can't force Liz to come back"

"I agree, everything is still developing but... I just wanted to make sure that, if we start operating again, that you'll be there"

"Of course" I said with a nod "my first priority has always been the taskforce, and my superior knows this" I said motioning with my head at the table with my teammates. "And Liz, if she ever needed me, I'm here for her"

"We all are" he said with a little sad smile, he extended his hand and I shook it "I'll be in touch" I nodded and watched him turn around and leave the bar. I stood there at the table for a bit, thinking. I was definitely going to need that drink now.

I don't know why but everything that happened to Liz always left me feeling bad, I couldn't help but to feel bad for her, and now knowing that she was going to be somewhat forced to get back on the cases after loosing her husband and not being able to take care of her daughter because of the sequels. I think that what really got me was what got me every time, knowing that I would never get answers.

I returned home late, Mags and Alma were already in bed, so I just undressed in the closet to not make noise and quietly snuck into bed with Mags, she was passed out, with covers up to her head, I could only see her eyes peaking out of them.

I sighed and laid in bed, I wasn't going to wake her up to talk to her, but I knew that this wasn't going to let me sleep. I was up for maybe an hour, looking at the ceiling, just me and my thoughts, when I felt a hand on my arm, and that made me jump on the bed. Alma was looking at me, and I didn't know firstly: how she's gotten out of the crib, and secondly: how she'd entered the bedroom without me noticing.

"You scared me" she gave me a little smile, then a laugh, I quickly shushed her and climbed out of bed, taking her on my arms.

"Why are you out of your crib?" I asked as I closed the door to our room, she placed her little finger in front of her lips and shushed me.

"Mommy ipi" she said.

"I know that mommy's sleeping, that doesn't answer my question" I said with a smile, it was amazing how well she deflected from any scolding these days. "Why are you out of bed, did you climb down?"

"No" she said dodging my gaze and looking at my collar, she began to fiddle with my shirt.

"No? Then why are you here?" She looked up at me and gave me a guilty smile, I chuckled and walked to her bedroom.

"Don't climb down from the crib, you're going to hurt yourself, okay?" I said looking at her.

"Okay daddy" she said, I lifted her over the rim of the crib and set her down, but she began to complain and buckled her legs to not touch the bed, letting out a sob.

"Okay okay" I said hurriedly, because I didn't want Mags to wake up, I pulled her up to my chest again and grabbed one of her blankets, I sat in the loveseat next to the bed and bundled her up on my chest. "You're going to sleep now, right?"

"Not sipi" she mumbled, swatting her messy blond hair from her face, I smiled and pushed her hair back, she gave a tired look.

"You look very sleepy to me" I began to pat on her back, that always did the trick. It took her a few minutes, and meanwhile I scanned the room, seeing that she had a big enough stuffed animal that she could very well land on when jumped out of the crib, it was big enough that Maggie didn't even put it on the crib, but to it's side.

I was still wondering how I didn't hear her, she must've tumbled down onto the floor, and how it didn't hurt her or cried about the fall, but kids were like rubber these days.

I looked down at her and found her sleeping already, I smiled down at her and stood up, ready to begin the tedious task of placing her in the bed and being able to leave her without waking her up. I couldn't help but remember a funny photo Maggie had shown me, where it showed how a sleeping kid looked, like a normal baby, but it felt as if you were trying to not set off a bomb.

I was very weirded out when I found out the sun was already peaking out from the horizon. I snuck back into bed, I sighed and closed my eyes, knowing that tomorrow I wasn't going to be on full energy levels, and on top of it, Mags had friends coming over for lunch.

I saw Maggie peak from under the blanket and look at the baby monitor she had in her nightstand. I closed my eyes, because I didn't want her to know that I was awake, and felt her move to my side and place her head on my shoulder, I smiled and placed my cheek on her head.

It was hard for me to fall asleep with the sun hitting on my face, but it was harder to wake up when Mags came to wake me up, I felt her quietly placing her hand on my forehead.

"Don" she called for me "everyone's coming in an hour"

"Okay" I said with a little voice, she rubbed on my cheek and leaned in to give me a kiss on the forehead.

I head her hush something, and when I opened my eyes I saw her walk out of the room, Alma was waiting next to the door with one of her stuffed animals, looking worriedly at me. She looked up at Maggie, and she motioned at her to leave the room as she closed the door behind me. I staid in bed for a half an hour, then jumped to a quick shower and exited feeling not so fresh.

I walked to the kitchen and saw Mags getting busy with the salads. I walked to her and searched for a cup to have a quick coffee.

"How are you?" She asked, not taking her eyes from the potatoes she was cutting "I didn't hear you when you arrived last night"

"Yeah, you were passed out. But Alma wasn't" she chuckled "I was with her for surprisingly an hour" I finished pouring the coffee and sat down in the kitchen island with a sigh.

"Mmm" she said, she knew my sighs "what happened?"

"Cooper said they're pushing for the taskforce to pick back up with the cases, and he said he'll talk to Reddington about it" I finished and gave a sip to my cup.

"I thought that would make you at least excited"

I shook my head, even though she wasn't really paying attention to me.

"I've got nothing for Liz"

"You don't owe her anything"

At first, I was angry at her answer, so I just stood up and took my coffee back to the living room, looking for Alma. When I found her and sat at one of the couches, I finished my coffee as I thought. Maggie was right, I didn't owe Liz anything, because I hadn't done anything to her, none of what had happened had been my fault, not even Reddington's fault. For the little I had heard, Tom had done something he shouldn't have, messed with people he shouldn't have.

I watched Alma very concentrated, trying to fit a square figure in a circled shape of a toy box, she tried for a while until she gave up and went to the actual square, the shape fitting immediately and disappearing into the box. She looked in, checking that the piece had gone in, then took another one.

"Alma are you finished?" Maggie called out from the kitchen. Alma looked down at found her plastic cup and took it, drinking and finishing the juice. She looked to the side and found me, staring at her. She gave me a smile over her cup, and when she finished she handed it to me. I took it as I stood up and took my empty cup to the sink.

"And finish your cereal" I said pointing at the bowl of cereal in the other side of her mat. I heard her acknowledge me and I headed to the kitchen, where Mags was cleaning her hands and finishing with the salads.

"I didn't mean it that way" she said as she moved to the side and let me clean both cups.

"I know I just-" I shook my head "I have a headache" I felt her hand on my shoulder, and I set the cups to dry on the side. "Could use a hug" she let out a quiet chuckle, then rounded my neck with her arms, I turned a bit to hug her by the waist. I sighed and held her tight.

"I know this makes you upset, and all you can do is be there for her"

I turned my head to her cheek and kissed it, pulling back.

Mags and I spent the day with her friends, just joking around, but I couldn't get my head around this Liz thing.

I definitely couldn't get my head out of if after I got the call to come back, but the Liz situation and how bad I felt was quickly overshadowed by the fact that Red had assigned us The Informant, AKA Prescott.

Mags was at work when I found out, I had to go see her, she was the only one who knew about the fixer situation. She was in a meeting, but I told Brenda that it was important and to get her out of there. I never came to Mag's work and I never interrupted her, so I guess she could tell I was serious.

I was pacing on her office when she walked in.

"What's wrong?" She said closing the door.

"Prescott" I said, her eyes hardened a bit "Reddington's case was about him, I got a call from him while I was tailing someone. I arrested the guy, Prescott called in to talk to me. He has pictures Mags"

Maggie wasn't looking at me, she was processing what I was telling her, she was leaned on her desk with her arms crossed.

"Fucking bastard" she muttered. "What did he say?"

"He told me that I don't have anything on him, which is true, but he had everything on me, he'll still be in touch"

"Well, his funeral" she said rounding the desk, I smiled, because that's exactly what I had told him.

"I've got to go back, what are you going to do?" I asked when I saw her open the desk drawer.

She closed it, then walked to me again.

"Would you mind if I took her of it?" She asked in a whisper.

"I would" I said instantly.

"But would you really mind?" She pushed. I took a deep breath, and I took every inch of my will to shake my head no, because I really, really didn't want her involved in this. She nodded, then leaned in to kiss my cheek. "I have to go back to this meeting but please keep me posted"

She walked around me and exited the office, I stood there for a full minute, kicking myself because I knew for a fact that Maggie was going to go to Reddington.

I recalled something he said to me, that he was going to be there for me if I was ever in trouble, and I told him I wouldn't take his help, I refused to take help from him.

Maggie.

"Need I say anything?" I asked sitting in my office chair and swinging it around.

"About what?" Raymond replied.

"About Prescott, how did you find out about him?"

"I started looking into it as soon as you came up to me and asked about Ressler and his worries" I frowned and did the math.

"That was two years ago"

"More pressing matter came"

"Well, Donald's being threatened, and we both know what he's going to do"

"I have a pretty good guess"

"I think you don't have a pretty good guess of what I'm going to do to Prescott, when the taskforce has him, could you please let me know?"

"I put the FBI in the Prescott's tail because he also has information I want hidden, so I guess our interest are aligned" I smiled.

"What a happy coincidence"

"Donald said he would never ask for my help"

"He's not asking, and neither am I"

He let out a lengthy chuckle.

"It's always a delight to talk to you Maggie"

"Take care Raymond" I saluted, then hung up.

I asked myself when had Raymond offered his help to Don, and if Donald knew that Raymond knew about the fixer. I took the flip phone and took our the battery and the chip, storing them away in my drawer.

I knew that Don wouldn't want to cover his illegal things with not illegal things, but I hoped he could appreciate the semantics of me asking Raymond for help instead of him asking.

I heard Don arrive a the house late, I'd already put Alma to sleep. I was waiting for him to show up at the bedroom for a while. When he didn't make it, I searched for him. I found him in the car, sitting in the driver's seat, drinking something.

I fastened my robe and walked to the car, he saw me, then pushed a button inside to open the doors.

"It's cold, you should go to bed"

I climbed into the car and closed the door.

"I'm glad you're here" I said, he gave me a little chuckle, pouring more whiskey into his glass.

"Instead of jail?"

"Of course" he took a swig out of his drink, then leaned on the door, holding his head on his hand.

"I feel awful. I hate having Reddington involved in my affairs, I hate having you involved in them. I hate feeling like I got away with murder"

I twisted my lips, feeling bad for Don myself.

"I gave Cooper a signed confession, he said he didn't care about what I did, he's just interested in what I can do for the taskforce."

"But they don't have anything on you?"

"No, Prescott's files didn't include mine. I don't know if Reddington took it, or it's the one you have"

"If it's the one I have, then I don't have it anymore" he gave me a confused look. "I burned it" I explained.

He took another sip of his drink, almost finishing it.

"I know you feel bad, but the people who care about you, don't care about what you did, we can look past this mistake and I know that you're good Donald."

"I'm a crooked cop"

"You're not" he shook his head dismissing me, giving one last gulp to his glass, then filling it again.

I sighed a little angry, because he was beyond stubborn about his whole principles thing. I opened the door of the car and closed it behind me, heading out of garage. He needed time alone to let everything sink in.

The next day, I was fixing Alma's breakfast when he walked in with her on arms, holding his cup of coffee on the other hand. I took her and placed her on the high chair, giving her cereals in a bowl and juice in a plastic cup, I followed with another bowl of sliced bananas.

When I was about to grab my cup of tea, I felt Don's hand on my lower back, I lifted my eyes to his as I took a sip.

"How are you today?" I asked.

"I'm sure I'll feel better when I completely forget about this" I nodded, he placed his arms around my waist and I leaned in to his chest. "It was not the right thing to do, but all the decisions I made, I made them because I wouldn't want to be anywhere but here, with my girls"

I smiled and got on my toes to kiss him on the cheek.

"I love you" I said with another kiss on his cheek.

"Wub you" Alma said fitting more pieces of cereal on her mouth. Everytime she heard me say something to Don she would chime in.

Don smiled and placed a kiss on my forehead.

"I better get to work" he finished his coffee and patted his pockets to make sure he had everything on him. "Stop growing on me" he said pointing at Alma, she chuckled complicity, then Don left for work.

I felt the same way about Alma, she was well over her year and a half, and she was growing at giant steps, she came up with things I didn't even know she could think of. I also got ready for work as soon as Carol arrived, then headed to the office. When I got to my desk there was a Manila envelope waiting for me, I opened it and found Donald's file from the fixer, along with a note that said that everything was taken care of.