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powderblueblood · 2 months

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YES! NO! OKAY! I DUNNO!

ronnie and eddie volunteer at the hawkins high carnival to start their senior year off wrong right. wc: 2.4k warnings: eh, none. swearing. era-typical misogyny and shit. ronnie ecker gay as hell. was this inspired by the opening scene of bottoms (2023)? maybe! mind your business! requested by the lovely @joejoequinnquinn

“The thing is, man, when Ms. Kelley calls, you answer.” Ronnie shrugs through a mouthful of kettle corn and Eddie can almost hear the like Ghostbusters! She doesn’t even need to say it.

“Kelley did not call you, first of all–”

“--well, no, we met at the market. Which is way more intimate, if you think about it. Romantic.”

“Second of all, this is a total fucking betrayal of your anti-school spirit ethos.” Eddie, with his wound cloud of cotton candy stuck in a cone, gesticulates wildly. Dude’s even scaring away the flies that might dare land on it. "What, you’re all pep squad now because you gotta nosebone some teachers into giving you scholarship recommendation letters? Volunteering for the fucking carnival?” His hands go up, a makeshift bandleader for the jaunty circus soundtrack that twinkles through the humid September air. “What’s next, the Young Republicans?”

Ronnie’s whole face crushes in disgust. As per usual, she’s overestimated his perception in these matters. Dumbdumb is totally missing the point.

“Edweiner,” she says, adjusting the strap of her overalls, “What I think you’re failing to essentially recognize here is the fact that–look around!--there are girls here.”

Damn fuckin’ skippy. Cheerleaders, nerd girls, regular girls, artsy girls, band girls, chess club girls, girls all wearing marginally hipper clothing than they usually would. Because the Hawkins High school carnival is prime hunting ground for hookups.

Not that Ronnie's looking for any such thing, but it doesn't hurt to see how the other half live.

“Yyyyeah, girls that have spent the last four years ignoring u–”

Okay, ixnay. Ronnie cuts Eddie off right at the knees, shoving a full palm into his face.

“Mmmm, glass half full me for a hot sec,” y’know, god knows what brought this optimism on for Ronnie. Maybe her job directing lowly freshmen toward the gaming booths, maybe it’s the kettle corn that kind of tastes like carpet, but she’s rolling with it, “These are girls that are still in fuck-it-it’s-summer mode. Girls that are entering their senior year of high school. Girls, okay, girls who may have finally realized that the social hierarchies of Hawkins are total bullshit and want to start off their year with a bang.”

She and Eddie stop in their tracks, identical brown eyes staring each other down.

“A finger bang,” Ronnie encourages.

Eddie blinks, slow and spacey, like a cow.

“Fruuuhm you.”

Again, with Eddie’s shaking of the fucking cotton candy. There’s a wasp trapped in there right now. “Are you fucking high right now? Are you insane?”

“Technically, yes!” Ronnie can smoke and bike, it’s fine. “Hereditarily, jury’s still out!” Eddie sorta cringes at that one, and she smirks. “See, I can make those jokes, because of the loopy mom of it all. You can’t make those jokes.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Cue disheartened shrug. ”But. Y’know. We can leave.”

Her metalhead comrade grimaces, Reeboks kicking through the grass as a bunch of freshmen scatter in his path.

Ronnie sighs real big. “We can leave… if you’re too chicken to stay.”

Pump the fuckin’ breaks. Ronnie keeps walking a few paces, intentionally leaving Eddie in her dust.

“Ronald James.”

And then she pivots. All that’s missing is Ennio Morricone playing from the heavens. Or the PA, whatever.

“Edward… ward.”

Eddie squints, his heavy brown knitting furiously. “You just call me a chicken?”

And Ronnie shrugs, cool as crushed ice. “If it walks and it buh-kawks.”

Scoff. Scoff. Scoff. Eddie’s whole torso is wracking with scoffs, he’s like a courtesan dying of consumption with scoffs, he’s about to keel over with scoffs, he quite simply can’t believe–

“Quit hawkin’ up hairballs and square up, pardner!” Ronnie yells.

Enough with the theatrics! It’s like clicking in a seatbelt, the way their competitive nature with each other activates. Just add chicken and they are off, Eddie flinging his cotton candy to the wayside, the sticky mess hitting a nearby kid. The two of them jostle through the carnival, tracking on up to the sad-looking shooting gallery that’s being manned by one of their greasier classmates that neither of them recognise. Eddie, that big-handed buffoon, beats Ronnie to the punch of slamming down his fluorescent green tickets.

“Hi! I’d like to shoot to kill, please,” he booms.

The kid just stares at him, shifting to the left. “‘kay. Whatever. It’s three turns.”

Ronnie rolls her eyes as Eddie slams the pellet rifle into his shoulder– she’s seen his hand-eye coordination, alright? It sucks dick, the dude can barely walk in a straight line. It’s a miracle he can play guitar at all!

Ptew! The first of the little tin duckies barely makes it away with its life, narrowly avoiding a blow to the head from Munson. Ptew! Second one, not so lucky.

Eddie, roving around with the rifle for his final victim, yells to Ronnie. “Looks like havin’ a dad with a rap sheet pays off, Ron!”

Ptew! Third and final. Eddie’s face peels back into that terrifier of a grin that’s like, okay, calm down, Bozo the Clown.

“Pfff… beginner’s luck,” Ronnie tuts.

“Like you’ve ever even held a gun before,” Eddie says and pivots back to the kid manning the booth, who’s passing him his prize. “Hold on, nonono, gimme that bear. The like, the zebra print one. With the fuck me eyes.”

The volunteer carnie doesn’t budge. “You only hit two. The bears are if you hit three. You win green Papa Smurf if you get two.”

And gingerly, Eddie accepts the little off-brand Smurf. Where do they get this shit? Does it fall off the back of the same truck that carries Bev’s off-brand liquor at The Hideout or what?

Whatever, Ronnie grabs the rifle from him and settles it against her shoulder. She can already hear Eddie tutting like, there’s no way and don’t embarrass yourself, Ron, but the thing is–ptew!--you don’t get to be as good of a drummer as Ronnie Ecker–ptew!--without learning a little precision.

Ptew!

“What?” she shrugs to an open-mouthed Munson as the pimply kid passes her a big ol’ overstuffed bear, with the fuck me eyes painted on and all (weird feature. Ronnie might regret having this in her bedroom later on), “Like it’s hard?”

Eddie huffs, because that’s a boy that hates to be shown up even if he spends so much of his loser ass time being shown up. But, it’s usually not by Ronnie, so!

They keep movin’ through the fair, like that old folk song goes, two heat seeking missiles looking to outdo each other. Ring toss? Piss. Cornhole? Are you fucking kidding me? Balloon darts– okay, so they maybe blew their wad a little early by going straight to the gun range but there’s gotta be something…

Then, Ronnie spots it, because it’s all flailing and water and choking and drama and shit.

Dunk tank.

She yanks Eddie over by the collar.

Whoever the poor sucker was that they’d been dunking made an extremely dramatic exit. Ronnie overhears something about, ‘What do you mean, you never asked him if he could swim!’ squawked from the irate mouth of one Nancy Wheeler. Because of course she’s involved in cruise directing this, somehow. Like, where does she get the time? How does she have even a minute gap in her schedule for this? How can someone look so pretty when she’s stressed?

Then, next thing Ronnie knows, ol’ Blue Eyes Wheeler is walking towards them. Orbs of azure all ringed apologetic and Ronnie’s rooted to the ground, she can’t move, she can’t think–

–and naturally, Nancy’s looking at Eddie.

“I would usually never, never ask this…”

“He’ll do it.” She says it without hesitation, without thinking, without considering Eddie, like, at all.

Which naturally makes him bark, “I’ll do what?!”

“Be the dunkee. Be the dunked man,” Ronnie hisses, eyes flicking from a confused Nancy to an enraged Eddie.

“Oh god, would you? Please?” Nancy asks, almost begging– and look, the girl knows how to turn on the charm. She might not be Eddie’s type, not in eight million bajillion lightyears, but it’s near impossible to say no to her. “You can swim, right?”

“And it’s just about time for his yearly bath! So! Heh!” Ronnie gasps a little too loud for her own good, earning a gravitational pull back from Nancy and Eddie. No? No giggles for that one? Fine.

Eddie just shakes his head, sour expression immovable because he knows there’s no saying no to this– it’s for charity. A dumb charity he doesn’t care about, sure, but it’s for charity and also a girl is asking him and also he is determined to not look chicken. Ronnie knows this. It’s why she keeps winning.

“Yeah, Wheeler, I’ve been known to doggy– hold this,” and Eddie pushes green Papa Smurf into Ronnie’s chest, peeling off his jacket on the ascent to the dunk tank.

Nancy lingers by Ronnie a second, resting her forehead against her clipboard.

“Oh, thank god. We might actually make our donation target–like, everybody’s gonna want to drown him.”

A beat. Nancy raises her permed head, glances toward Ronnie.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“You did.”

“Sorry.”

“Eh, I get it.”

Nancy flutters on by, muttering something like a thanks and a good luck and an I really hope he can swim.

Now, to his credit, Eddie makes for a pretty great picture of defiance as he straddles the plank, still fully dressed in his Hellfire shirt (Ronnie’d call nerd, if she wasn’t also wearing hers) and his shredded up jeans. Then it occurs to her that he may not have completely disrobed because he’s not wearing underwear. And that’s disgusting. Moving on.

Ronnie lets him have it, for a while anyway. Nancy was onto something– an alarmingly hefty line of would-be dunkers start to gather, everyone from cheerleaders to underclassmen trying to prove something. Not to side with the idea of gender conformity or whatever, but the couple of cheerleaders that step up to the mark don’t quite throw hard enough to hit. The sophomore that follows them is thrown off his game immediately when Eddie pretend-lunges at him, devil horns at the ready.

Gareth, their newest freshman recruit and Ronnie’s personal drum mentee, sidles up beside the tank to hype up his fearless (pffft) leader.

“Doin’ pretty good up there, Eddie!”

Loud enough for Ronnie to hear, Eddie hollers, “Piece of fuckin’ cake, freshman…”

“Gareth…” he mumbles.

“...I’m gonna be bone dry ‘til the end of this shift.”

Well, y’know, so like, he asked for it.

Ronnie tosses their hard won stuffies to the side and elbows a couple of basketball players out of the way. Cue watch it, freak!, yadda yadda, who cares, give her the ball!

“That’s what the last girl who hooked up with you said, right?” Ronnie bats to Eddie, stretching her arms above her head like a pitcher.

If she’s not mistaken, he’s relieved to see that she’s cut the basketball boys (who’ve got much more experience tossing balls than she does) out of the way.

“Ecker, I’ve seen you in gym class! You throw like an amputee! Bring it!”

Again, he asked. So Ronnie goes ahead and winds up.

Eddie, in all of his your ass should have learned by now have you not been watching do you not see the signs ego, turns to Gareth.

“See, Ronnie doesn’t seem like much of a girl but she does throw like o–”

Boom! And the metalheads goes down into the murky depths, not unlike Gareth’s DnD character that Eddie so mercilessly merked at the last Hellfire session. Ronnie doesn’t hold back a cackle, seeing Eddie resurfacing like a drowned river rat and spluttering.

“Ffflfpfpfl! Fluke! That was a flu–” he jabs a finger through the mesh to something behind Ronnie’s head, “Wheeler, that was a fluke throw!”

“Is he floating? Oh, good.” Oh. Nancy’s back. Nancy’s back and she’s watching Ronnie. Oh. Oh that’s… Ronnie makes the grave error of glancing over her shoulder to see Nancy grinning, clipboard bound to her chest. “She’s got two more to prove it, Eddie.”

“Just take the–” Eddie struggles to make it back to the plank, sodden clothes and all that shit, “Just take the ball because she’s not gonna get–”

Bullseye! See, that’s how you don’t choke in front of a pretty girl and all the rest of your classmates, dude, you just wind it up and get it done! Ronnie’s buzzing with a touch more adrenaline now, and it’s going straight to her mouth.

“Come again, water boy?!”

“Water boy?” Eddie babbles once he floats upward again, struggling under the weight of, I don’t know, his waterlogged hair to straddle first position.

“‘Cuz you’re wet.”

“Not your best. Not your b–”

Not even a full sentence out and Ronnie’s put him back under again. Hello. Why has she never tried out for softball. Would that be too obvious. This is kind of making her wacky, a little.

“What was that, Munson? Whawassat?” Ronnie stomps as the poor bastard tending to this wretched machine helps a soggy Eddie back onto dry land. “Couldn’t hear you over the sound of women’s rights! Can I hear it for women’s rights?! … Ladies?”

Zero response. Crickets. Nancy Wheeler’s even disappeared.

Scooping up their stuffed creatures, Ronnie’s shoulders sag– and she narrowly gets out of the way of Eddie, who’s racing towards her, helicoptering his soaked hair.

“Don’t be– don’t be shaking your Lassie locks at me like some damn dog! Jesus Christ… my sweater.”

“My apologies to the Gap by way of the Salvation Army,” Eddie sneers, draping a towel over his head as he struggles to put his shoes on.

“One more?” Because Ronnie’s nothing if not sympathetic, alright? Dude’s drenched. She'll let him win this one.

Squelching, Eddie nods. And just like that, to their left, shining like a beacon with a trail of suckers lined up outside…

“One more… to prove we’re not…” …staffed by a multitude of cute-as-a-button beauties…

“We’re not chicken…” …glowing with the radiant halos of fuck it, it’s summer, fuck it, it’s my senior year…

The Kissing Booth.

Ronnie and Eddie each wear a thousand yard stare.

Eddie, for reasons pertaining to freakdom and Ronnie, also that, but jacked up to a degree of potential social pariah. God, could you imagine? Could you imagine if she had the nerve to go completely fuck it, completely hetero-nuclear and march on up there with her dollars in quarters dug out of the couch and be like, Yeah, Tina Burton. Lay one on me. Oh, you’re switching shifts? Oh, that’s okay, I can wait… And who is that? Nancy Wheeler? Well, hell! Isn’t it just my gay lucky day!

Because Ronnie can imagine. Is imagining.

“But I'm… I’m kinda cold.” In truth, Eddie’s kinda turning blue. That September chill is starting to set in, finally… so it’s back to the parking lot they go.

“And I’m kinda hungry. You shouldn’t kiss people when you’re hungry, right?”

“No, that’s how they discovered cannibalism.”

“Right. So let’s–”

“--Big Boy Burger?”

“For the big boys, yep.”

#published by powder #r. ecker by powder #e. munson by powder #ronnie ecker vs the world #ronnie ecker #eddie munson #cant tell if this sucks dick or not but like screw it we're here to mess around #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #i guess???

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likecastle · 7 months

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Robin/Nancy makes the other cry. You decide if it is in an angsty or horny way!!

And we're back! This one is a stone cold bummer, I'm afraid! Enjoy!

Robin knocks on the doorframe of the guest room, and Nancy blinks up at her, taken aback. She genuinely hadn’t heard Robin coming—too wrapped up in her own thoughts, probably. “OK?” Robin asks.

Nancy dips her head. “Yeah, of course.”

“Feel like celebrating?” Robin holds out a can of beer. “Steve found some in the fridge in the garage. It’s probably like a year old at this point, but if expired beer is the thing that kills me after everything else that’s happened, so be it.” She shrugs.

Nancy accepts the can, but she doesn’t open it, just holds it in her hands. It’s the same brand they were drinking the night Barb was killed, she realizes with a pang. It’s only fitting, she thinks, that all of this would end in the same place it began—for her, at least. She traces the blue lines on the can with her thumb, thinking about how much has changed since then. Barb probably wouldn’t even recognize what’s left of Hawkins—or Nancy, for that matter.

“I’m not really much of a beer drinker, myself,” Robin says, sitting down on the bed beside Nancy. “But, I dunno, it seems like we ought to mark the occasion somehow.” Robin pops the tab on her can of beer and holds it out to toast Nancy. “To doing the thing!” she says in a falsely bright voice.

Nancy smiles despite herself, and taps Robin’s beer can with her own. “To doing the thing,” she echoes, with significantly less manufactured cheer.

Still, she can’t make herself open the can and take a drink. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever had a drink, that night at Steve’s house, but it was maybe the first time she’d been drunk, and it has never felt as good as that ever again. Not that she’s had all that many opportunities, but every other time she’s let herself get drunk, it’s turned on her somehow—at Tina’s awful Halloween party, finishing the last of Murray’s vodka with Jonathan the night before he left for California. It always manages to wend itself back to the first time, and she’s got enough memories flooding back around her as it is.

“It doesn’t even feel real,” she says quietly.

Robin nods solemnly. “Yeah, well, we’ve been here before, haven’t we? It’s a real Charlie Brown and Lucy situation, only in this case the football is saving the world I guess?” She mimes snatching away a football from an approaching kick. “Fool me once shame on you, fool me five times, shame on some evil psychic monster man, I guess.” She takes a deep swallow of her beer, and Nancy thinks that possibly this isn’t the first one she’s had. “But at least we know that if the end of the world does start all over again, we’ll probably be able to figure out a way to shut it down. Just, like, on average.”

On average, Nancy thinks, they’ve managed to forestall the end of the world four times, never actually to stop it. The jury’s still out on this round.

“Y’know,” Robin says in a small voice, “it’s all right if you’re not, y’know . . .”

Nancy shakes her head impatiently. “If I’m not what?”

“. . . feeling like celebrating,” Robin says. She hesitates, then adds, “If you’re not OK.”

“I know,” Nancy says, sharper than she means to. “I’m fine.”

Robin finishes her beer with a wince and says, “See, I just don’t think that’s true. And, I mean, it’s nothing personal. I don’t really think that could possibly true for any of us.”

“I’m fine,” Nancy hisses, hating the way Robin’s trying to push this touchy-feely bullshit on her. “Maybe you’re not dealing with things, but I’m handling it.”

Robin laughs. “Brava, Wheeler. Really convincing. A+. Where’d you study? The Lady Doth Protest Too Much School of Dramatic Denials?”

“Can you for once just give it a rest?” Nancy snaps. “For once in your life take a hint? No? Well, then, here, let me spell it out for you: I – don’t – want – to – talk – about – it. Not to you, not to anyone, got it? Is that OK with you? I came up here to enjoy a little peace and quiet and you insist on shoving in where you’re not wanted, just like you always do. Just leave me alone.”

She regrets it the moment she sees the look on Robin’s face—stung, eyes suddenly glossy with unshed tears. But Robin just smiles, this horrible thin twitch of her lips, and says, “Sure thing, Wheeler.”

“Robin, wait—” But Robin’s already out the door, disappearing down the dark hall.

#ronance #it's there if you squint i promise #stranger things femslash #femslashtember

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deep-hearts-core · 1 year

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2023 - Semifinal 1

yall. besties. yesterday was eurovision, and i watched it 45 minutes behind everybody else, and i VOTED, and it cost me a stupid amount of money and im probably never doing it again! n e ways here goes

Norway i've had mixed feelings about this entry since it was selected (largely because i was bitter about the mgp results lol). this wasn't... terrible, but i felt underwhelmed? i liked the opening in italian and i respect alessandra for how much FUN she's having onstage, but she seemed weak vocally in a lot of places, there were a couple spots where she strayed from the key, and the removal of her cape was so quick, i wish they'd lingered more on that? camera shots also weren't timed perfectly i think. and ofc i've said before that these lyrics bother me and that it goes just a little too hard in the chorus. i respect the sea shanty vibes however i disagree that it is actually a sea shanty. ok. puts down mic.

Malta sigh. this is such a delightfully fun song that i've been so pleased by since its selection but the staging fell so flat. i love dav jr's dancing, it's excellent, but we needed more camera time on the saxophone. we really could have had epic sax guy 2: malta edition on our hands. also there were too many graphics (to cover the set changes) (i liked the set changes but were they worth the graphics? no) and i wish we could have actually seen the costume change. i dunno. it's still a really fun number and they sounded great but the staging was messy and they also chose a bad bad recap clip lmao.

Serbia ok, so i used to hate this but it's grown on me a lot especially since this performance. this song knows what it is and it plays to its audience. luke suits this song to a t (naturally, he wrote it, yknow?) and the outfit, the dancers, the set, the lights, everything felt cohesive! except for the graphics, i didn't need the graphics. also can i just say im a wide shot hater yall know this but the slow zoom out after the first "samo mi se spava" was INCREDIBLE. the only good wide shot in the history of eurovision.

Latvia i have zero technical complaints about this. vocally, and in terms of staging, this was flawless. the song isn't really my style but i don't actively hate it, mostly i think the beginning flows a little weird? it's funny, watching this i was like, if they qualify they could win the whole thing because juries will love it. and then they didn't qualify. which, like, ok, this is a jury song, but huh? this was a technically perfect performance!

Portugal my preshow winner! the first act of the night i felt was dwarfed by the stage a little, and she didn't seem fully comfortable vocally, but the performance was still so much fun and i think i actually shouted "fuck yeah" to my empty apartment when she hit that last high note.

Ireland man, idk if the singer was sick or nervous or what but the mic was so far from his mouth at all times and he sounded so strained. it makes my voice hurt just to listen to. and i mean, the song is fine, ultimately generic but fine, and i liked the all gold staging. but i cant get over how nervous conor looked and sounded.

Croatia as one of my preschoolers used to say, "i didn't really like that". because first of all, not that im against politics in eurovision, but how was this not disqualified over political grounds? the ebu's hypocrisy is showing. secondly it's not cohesive, it's disjointed until right at the end. and i don't like the onstage aesthetic at all. makes me kind of uncomfortable. in the end i don't think it's an effective joke entry. i know people are hailing it as being thee anti war song of the season or whatever but i don't think it's that good and i think people like it because of the caricatures. which like. fine. but don't hold it up against, yknow, switzerland or whatever and say look see croatia is the good anti war song! because it's not... it's not good.

Switzerland now look i get the tone deaf accusations i really do. maybe its my perspective as a usian here, but i think this is allowed to be a commentary on like, masculinity and conscription and the glorification of war to young boys, i don't think it's telling ukrainians and russians to just sit down for some tea, you know? anyway i missed most of this performance yesterday bc i was busy voting (i was behind the stream but i checked tumblr at the right time and scrambled to give votes to portugal) so this was really my first time watching. i was surprised when it qualified but technically it was actually very good, pretty good staging and remo sounded basically like in the studio version, he's got a gorgeous voice. the song is generic, switzerland has sent basically the same song the past two years, yknow, theyve found their groove and theyre sticking to it thats fine. i dunno. i don't hate it.

Israel bro... why was this good. listen like i'm not huge on this kind of song i thought it was pretty annoying initially, like i didn't extremely hate it nor did i think there were subliminal antipalestinian messages in the lyrics or whatever i just didn't enjoy it. and while noa didn't sound great, she had good energy and the staging fucked?? that dance break?? i was expecting it to be messy but it blew me out of the water which i guess i should have expected from israel but shrug. also free palestine tho the ebu turns a blind eye to israel's atrocities while cutting off russia because the ukrainian perspective is more palatable and like, fuck that it's deeply hypocritical.

Moldova while vocally pasha isn't all that solid, the stage show and songwriting here are both phenomenal. this is pasha at his finest. i love all the jumps he does, i love the drumming, i love that the backing vocals are live!!!! this fucks so hard

Sweden i'll say it: this wouldn't be getting as much hype if it weren't loreen. it's not a bad song, even if her vocals aren't as spotless as they were in 2012 and even if that outfit is objectively just terrible, but the name recognition does a lot. great staging though. the close staging is what made euphoria work and it's doing the same thing here. i've said this since melfest: the only way i'll be truly happy with this is if loreen pulls a johnny logan and becomes the second person to win twice. like karmically that is the only thing that is allowed to happen here. if she gets like third or something i'll be deeply dissatisfied. (i'd also find it deeply funny if she placed like 20th but that's just because i like to be a hater.)

Azerbaijan that performance gave 1970s, 1990s, and 2011 all at once. truly atrocious outfits and vocals weren't outstanding but then again it isn't that kind of song. i think we always knew this one would get lost because it's so much more mellow than the other acts but it's just SO low energy. the outfits i think led people to believe this would be a more energetic number than it was. and there's a place in eurovision for numbers that are just vibes like this but it didn't work, yknow? staging was the best part of this though, not a standout by any means but it was good it didn't detract from the song at all.

Czechia underwhelming. this song goes hard in studio and i knew it wouldn't translate 1:1 live. i love the outfits and i don't hate the hair extensions, shockingly. i think it's a great opening and a great bridge but the mix between prerecorded and live backing is rough and the stage felt too big for them. still good tho. love those harmonies and the lead singer's voice is beautiful and delicate and just, mmm.

Netherlands i am going to say it again. you could have picked me, a somewhat trained singer who knew the song, up out of the us and dropped me in liverpool with 24 hours notice and i still would have done better than mia nicolai. listen, the staging was gorgeous and dion did great. i love the song, i think it's beautiful. the key change... better for the singers, even if the piano in the beginning sounded distorted and very obviously pitched down. but MIA. my god. she didn't sound good, didn't hit her high notes (the prerecorded backing vocals did it instead), and she had TOO MUCH ENERGY. mia stop bouncing around this is not the mia show this is not a pop banger mia please. it was distracting and it totally ruined the experience for me.

Finland it took me a while to understand why everyone loves this, but i get it now. like serbia's entry, it knows what it is and leans into it and does all of those things well. like, kaarija doesn't NEED to be a great singer, because the way the staging works with the music and the rap balances it out. again, it's cohesive! it's funny to watch it's fun to bop to i know it's a commentary on alcoholism even if i can't understand the lyrics and that staging. is really fucking cool with the dancers and the crate and the lights. and also i love how all of finland has rallied around the guy. helsinki 2024, if i had to place bets i think this is definitely a contender.

My personal qualifiers: finland, portugal, latvia, moldova, sweden, czechia, serbia, malta, israel, switzerland. i'm floored that this list includes serbia israel and switzerland u guys. but it does.

Miscellaneous thoughts: THIS YEARS HOSTS. hannah alesha and julia you will always be famous <3 they're fucking iconic they're so good and julia opening the semifinal was great, idk much hardkiss music but she's a great singer. alesha's rap was also super fun. and hannah's french. "see, we do bother to learn other languages!" lmao. i love alyosha but how do you get alyosha here and not have her sing sweet people. it would have been topical!!! like cmon!!! rita ora was good although i think i join every other esc fan in being slightly salty about it. like oh we're good enough for you now? my god the lines were open for what felt like forever. is it always that long? why was there no countdown timer? DUSTIN THE TURKEY! THEY GOT DUSTIN THE TURKEY!

#esc reviews

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andywinter16 · 2 years

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001 + Kingsglaive

Hi! @starryredflames Thank you for your ask! For me personally is so hard to choose one (so there´s lot of honorary mentions XD) Also sorry it´s that long, kinda lost track of myself. XD

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: Can I chose them all? No? Well ... sorry, I just love them all XD

Least Favorite character: Tredd Furia (I feel that I need to explain that one somehow) It is not like he´s my least favorite. He´s just insuferable, cocky bastard who I want to punch, then kiss passionately, and for good measure punch him again. It´s love/hate relationship for his character ... And I am also still pissed at what he did. (Jury´s still out Treddie)

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Crowe/Pelna there was definitively something unexplored ( I think they compliment each other with their personalities, sue me for that), Nyx/Cor ... The fics that I read were wrote brilliantly, I can see the relationship happening. (I am also little sad cuz many Nyx/reader are so fine) Axis/wife!reader it was that one fic that changed everything. For me at least. (The most realisticly written relationship ever) Sorry, can´t think of anythink else.

Character I find most attractive: Nyx Ulric like have you seen him?!! What a hunk of a man! I mean I already made post for him, so I will keep it simple there. For that let me quote Brooklyn Nine-Nine “ You can punch me, kick me, pull my hair, I am a-ok being stabbed, biting and scratching are on the table, you can use fire.“

Character I would marry: Pelna Khara cuz he´s husband material. (Funny, caring man who will lay down his life for you. He just reaks of domesticity and love) When I saw him at the bar scene my thoughts went "Oh, what a ray of sunshine" to " I must protect him with my life, marry me handsome glaive". Honorary mention to Luche Lazarus. Under that stiff yet charismatic demeanour is tender soul who desire to be worthy of love and affection. ( But sadly my senses are telling me, that he´s little bit manipulative to get his way, sooo second place babe) I would still marry him.

Character I would be best friends with: Those people doesn´t trust easily, I can respect that. And I somehow feel like Pelna, Crowe or Luche would be my best friends. Pelna is generally the friendliest out there and welcoming, so I naturally gravitates towards it. Crowe would be like “Now you´re mine, you can´t get ride of me”. So instantly snatched and tucked under her wing. And Luche ... well, he´s similiar to my best friend/flatmate. So I will probably smile his way, and bam we somehow ended as friends for life. (He´s my braincell and I am his idiot, probably would want a refund next day)

a random thought: Dunno if this counts but Kingsglaive should have been a serial. If only for the reason that we will find out more about our favorite characters and their intentions. (especially Luche´s and Titus´s) And I would love to see Galadh.

An unpopular opinion: The traitorous glaives had right to be angry. When we consider their life in Insomnia and how badly they were treated.(which should be showed in the movie more, in my opinion) It was really only a matter of time before something like this happened. Regis´s decision only spurred it into action.

My Canon OTP: I am sorry, I don´t have one for Kingsglaive. Yet.

My Non-canon OTP: Crowe/Pelna as stated in favorite ships.

Most Badass Character: I am really torn between Titus Drautos and Nyx Ulric. Because the fight at the end was EPIC! Still little sad we didn´t see all the glaives and their abilities (like what can do Sonitus and Axis? And no, the answer isn´t stabbing us in the back, I can hear your thoughts readers)

Most Epic Villain: Hands down, it was Glauca/Titus Drautos! The second he showed on screen I was like: "Oh, shit´s going down! I should brough more popcorn." He delivered what was promised. The villain with a stabby twist. (and handsome one at that) The desing of his armours he wears *chefs kiss* And the final battle was masterpiece, I enjoyed myself perhaps too much. (Like when I was playing Episode Ardyn, I guiltily admin that I loved to trash Insomnia with him)

Pairing I am not a fan of: Interestingly enough, it´s Nyx/Lunafreya. Before you stone me here let me explain. I just don´t get necessarily romantic vibes from their interactions. More like siblings vibes, you know. Nyx as a big brother is reminded, thanks to Luna, of his sis Selena (so BIG BROTHER mode activated) (Also Luna means moon, Selena is a moon goddess, concidence? I think not)

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): CROWE ALTIUS!!! Need I even say more? And one honorable mention: The battle on the aircrafts, that one glaive that gets stabbed by Sonitus and then blowing the ship up. WHAT´S HIS NAME!? IS HE FRIEND OF SONITUS?! HIS LOVER?! I NEED ANSWERS, DAMMIT!

Favourite Friendship: Nyx-Libertus-Crowe-Pelna-Luche dynamic You can´t talk me out of thinking that Luche isn´t The Mom of the group. Nyx is the Troublemaker, Lib is The Loud One, Crowe is the Fashionable One and Pelna is The Sunshine.

Character I most identify with: I am vibing with Libertus and Pelna the most. Pelna is my chill everyday personality and Lib is my brash decisions and RAGE! ( and protective nature towards my friends and sibling)

Character I wish I could be: Uuuu, tough one! I am tempted to say Titus Drautos, but on other hand I was always weak for Libertus in Comrades. ( he fucking CARES! and that letter he wrote for Nyx? My poor heart can´t take it) Yeah, I am going with Libertus Ostium. In my eyes he redemed himself for all his actions. (Also I need to be part of shenaningas with Nyx)

#ffxv #ffxv kingsglaive #ask game #ffxv comrades #KINGSGLAIVE #nyx ulric #libertus ostium #crowe altius #luche lazarus #pelna khara #tredd furia #axis arra #sonitus bellum #titus drautos

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queenofbaws · 1 year

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Hi Queenie!!! Happy Holidays!!♡

“I know I shouldn’t be calling you but it’s New Years Eve and I need to tell you something before the year is out” remind me Conrad and Fliss so much!!

“You could at least pretend to be having fun, you know,” Julia said, forcing a highball glass into his open hand without asking. “Say something like ‘Gee whiz, JJ, I can tell how much work went into this crazy swanky shindig – here, know what, let me do a little dance and entertain the people.’”

Conrad lifted the glass to his mouth without looking away from his phone, barely sniffing it before taking a drink. “That’s what I sound like, huh?” Then, “God, this is awful, what did you do, scoop this out of the koi pond out back?”

Using her thumb and forefinger, Julia pinched his cheek hard, squeezing until he had no choice but to set his phone down to smack her away. “One, yes, that’s exactly what you sound like…”

“I have never once offered to ‘do a little dance’ to ‘entertain the people.’ Now, the jury’s out as to whether that means I wouldn’t, but…”

“And two,” she continued, brandishing her pinching fingers again until he took a step back, “Alex is doing his best, okay? So keep your opinions about the drink mixing to yourself.”

He looked down into the glass, his disgust morphing into a deep, deep pity. “If this is how the guy makes a rum and Coke, Jules, you gotta call that wedding off. There’s only two ingredients and he still managed to – ” He paused when he saw her smile tighten. “ – what?”

At first she was quiet, her smile just tightening and tightening further until it almost looked like she was wearing a plastic Halloween mask of her own face. Then she groaned, doing her usual busybody shtick and picking his phone up from the side table where he’d set it down. “It’s a mojito,” she mumbled, and when he started cough-spluttering in protest, her real smile cracked through and she laughed. “I told you! He’s trying. Which is more than I can say for you…” She held his phone up, her eyebrows high, and made a grand show of scrolling through the open text chain.

“Give me that…man, you make me understand why so many animals eat their siblings in the wild, you know that?” He snatched his phone back, surprised when Julia didn’t put up much of a fight. Or any fight, actually. She just sort of…handed it over, which wasn’t how things usually went. Either she was really in the holiday spirit, really full of the holiday spirits, or she was up to something.

Julia heaved a dramatic sigh – so dramatic, in fact, as to answer his question. She was up to something, all right. “I know you didn’t ask…”

“Oh boy, here it comes.” He went to take another drink from his glass, then remembered what was in it and set it right back down. “Hit me, Almighty Bridezilla, she of the unsolicited romantic advice. Tell me, what am I messing up this time?”

She rolled her eyes hard enough that her entire posture changed. A JJ specialty, that. “Have you thought about, I dunno, actually calling her instead of being a Mopey McMoperson? At my New Year’s Eve party? My very fancy, very highbrow, very expensive New Year’s Eve party?” If such a thing were possible, her eyebrows went even higher, almost flying clean off her forehead. The glittery fabric of her dress sparkled as she folded her arms across her chest and jutted one of her hips out, assuming the ultimate pose of sisterly disapproval. “Don’t get me wrong, you being all emo in the corner is definitely helping the overall vibe of the party – I super appreciate that you haven’t hit on any of my coworkers yet – ”

“Yet,” he repeated, but there wasn’t any threat in the joke. Not really. He looked back down at his phone, at the chain of texts, and lazily scrolled up and down with his thumb.

“ – but,” Julia continued, snapping her fingers a couple times to bring his eyes back to her. “I’d also appreciate you having a good time tonight.” Just like that, her feigned frustration melted away, revealing a softer, more sympathetic expression. When she reached over to his face that time, it wasn’t to pinch his cheek, but to pat it a couple times instead, which, honestly still sort of stung in the wake of said pinching. “It’s New Year’s, Connie. This is sort of the holiday for Great Gatsby types like you. You’re supposed to get belligerently drunk, cover yourself in glitter confetti, give yourself a black eye with a champagne cork, then strip down to your undershirt and jump in the pool, know what I mean?”

“Tempting! Doesn’t Gatsby, like, end up dead in the end, though?” He rolled his eyes and laughed as Julia waved him off, acting like that detail wasn’t especially important in the grand scheme of things. To be fair, it wasn’t – the series of events she’d outlined did, in fact, sound unbelievably up his alley – but he nudged her away all the same. “And for your information, I can’t just call, okay? Believe me, I’ve…considered.”

“Uh huh.”

“I have.” Conrad gave his phone one last hopeless look, then set it back down on the side table. Absently, he dipped his middle finger in the godawful concoction Alex had mixed, then ran it along the rim of the highball glass until it began faintly ringing. “But the time difference – ”

“Sounds fake, but okay.”

“ – you’re so obnoxious, do you know that? So obnoxious.” He shook his head; it wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Jules’s concern, it was just that she didn’t get it. At all. Her whole thing with Alex had more or less fallen into her lap, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure they’d ever been more than fifteen minutes away from one another, much less several hours and many, many time zones. “It’s still light out where she is, all right? Still daytime. She’s probably, you know, dealing with a boatful of idiot tourists looking to have a big New Year’s hootenanny in the middle of the ocean. What am I gonna do, JJ? Interrupt that? I’m not a total jerk.”

Julia sighed through her nose. “Yes you are.”

Despite every ounce of his self-preservation screaming at him not to do so, Conrad lifted his glass and took a swig. “Yes I am,” he admitted, grimacing through the nauseating taste. “But that’s beside the point.”

She didn’t give him time to argue – Julia moved quick as a flash, snatching his phone and tapping the screen a couple times. “How about this…” she said, forcing it up to his ear as she’d forced the glass into his hand to begin with. “Do me this one last itsy-bitsy favor and talk to your girlfriend so you can come have fun with the rest of us, okay? Call it a New Year’s wish of mine.”

He scrambled to grab his phone before she could drop it, shooting her the sort of exasperated glare only siblings could pull off. “You’re such a – ” he began, but then the line picked up, and Fliss’s voice blotted out the rest of the world.

“Hello?” she asked, a slant of laughter in her tone suggesting maybe she’d heard at least part of his threat before he’d realized she’d picked up.

“Hey! I – hi.” Shooting Julia another look, he tried to shoo her away, but she wasn’t having it. She just stood there like some awful, judgmental gargoyle, her hands on her hips and a know-it-all smirk on her lips. Conrad did the next best thing and turned around, using his free hand to cover his other ear so the music and laughter from the party wouldn’t distract him. “Not interrupting some high-stakes ocean adventure, am I?”

Fliss breathed a laugh, and even with all those miles between them, he fancied he could see the smile that went along with the sound: curled up higher on one side than the other, making her dark eyes glinting with wry amusement. “I don’t take the high-stakes bookings anymore,” she joked, “I’m still trying to get the scorch marks out of the Duke from the last one.”

“Hey, I offered to help…”

“Oh, I think you’ve helped more than enough,” she teased, and all at once, he was so glad Julia had made the decision to dial the phone for him. “What’s going on? I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you tonight, what with all the complaining you’ve been doing about having to go to your sister’s party.”

His volume must’ve been louder than he’d anticipated, because even turned away and with his other ear mostly plugged, he could absolutely hear Julia’s insulted swearing at that. “Oh, yeah. That. It’s…well, it’s definitely living up to expectations. I – ow!” He turned to glare over his shoulder when she slapped his back none-too-gently. “I,” Conrad started again, frowning when Julia’s smacking continued, none coming as hard as the first, but still annoying the living daylights out of him, “just wanted to call and tell you that, uh…this whole scene is sort of a drag without you here. And I know it’s nowhere near nighttime where you are right now, but we’re getting dangerously close to game-time here, and – ”

If Julia didn’t stop smacking at him like that, he was going to lose his mind. He reached behind himself and tried to smack her away, but she wouldn’t be daunted. With that good old-fashioned sibling tenacity, she just kept going, switching tack to poke him square between the shoulder blades instead.

“ – and…I just wish you were – ” No, okay, enough was enough. “Hey, one sec, sorry, JJ’s being a – ” He whirled around, holding his phone a bit farther from his mouth so Fliss wouldn’t hear him hiss “What?!” at his sister.

In the time he hadn’t been looking at her, Julia’s smirk had only grown, and now she looked a little something like the Cheshire Cat. Daintily as a princess, she pointed towards the dining room’s doorway, and when he didn’t immediately look that way, she physically took his face in her hands and turned his head.

“You…wish I was what?” Fliss asked with a smirk of her own, ending the call and dropping her own phone into an over-the-shoulder bag that matched her cream-colored party dress.

It took a second for it to click, the reality of the situation, and when it did, it was Julia he turned to first, wide-eyed and shocked. She just grinned, pinching both of his cheeks that time around. “I told you I wanted you to have fun at this one,” she beamed. “I take my big, fancy parties very seriously, thank you.”

When she let go of him, there was only one thing left to do – Conrad rushed over to the doorway, wrapping Fliss tight in his arms and holding her close, grinning into the kiss she pulled him into. If he had his way, that kiss never would’ve ended, but the flash of Julia’s camera made the decision for them. “I was going to say I wish you were here, y’know, with me,” he said, moving his mouth to whisper in Fliss’s ear as he raised one of his hands out towards his sister to block her from taking more pictures, “but considering the circumstances, I really wish you were bringing better booze to this snooze-fest.”

That time when Fliss laughed, he could see her smile, and it sent his heart flying. Just not as much as what she said next. “Oh, believe me, I had a sinking suspicion,” she joked, then shifted just enough to drop one of her arms down to her bag, opening it to show the promising glint of a flask hidden away.

“I love you,” Conrad beamed, and then they were kissing again, Fliss’s hands in his hair and his on her hips, and never in his life had he enjoyed a party more.

#man of medan #conrad man of medan #fliss dubois #conrad x fliss #fliss x conrad #queenie writes supermassive #new year prompts #torahime #happy new year!!!! :DDDDD hehehehe it's the big day!!!!

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feuilletoniste · 3 years

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I think the fact that people with certain sexual interests or orientations aren’t constitutionally protected is kind of the crux of the issue, actually.

#maybe don't shit on people for something they have no control over...?#if someone is behaving inappropriately in public that's one thing but 'people with fetishes' my ass #mine #like I dunno if you know this but the jury is still out scientifically speaking #as to whether kinks/fetishes/etc. are developed or innate #(and the same goes for paraphilias ftr)#there isn't a scientific consensus but it's definitely leaning towards nature not nurture #idk man I just don't get why you people want so bad to bully other people.#(also as a side note: it's not really that *more people have...* it's that more people are comfortable expressing it)#(it's the same principle as queer or trans people.)

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gamerwoo · 3 years

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[SVT Imprinted] Soonyoung: World’s Best Babysitter (Spin-Off)

Anonymous asked: I thought he would name it Coco! LOL it’s really a good imprint episode! Is it ok to request a spin-off with just Soonyoung tending to Kaito and the chickens? Like he even brought all hens and rooster to Jun’s room? 😂😂😂 Thank you and keep it up! 😍😍

Characters: Soonyoung x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, 100% crack, soonyoung is an irresponsible babysitter

Word count: 1,617

Summary: Before Jun had brought his mate home, Juri planned out a girls’ day specifically for all of the mates to go out, have fun, and relax. The rest of the pack – save for Soonyoung – had work and school to tend to, which meant the goofy wolf was left in charge of your 3-year-old brother.

Imprinted Masterlist

“Out,” Juri had told him, “we’re taking her out.”

And out they took you, leaving Kaito in Soonyoung’s care because it was your day to babysit, but it was your only free day that week, and you just looked exhausted.

All. The. Time.

So Juri declared a girls’ day – despite Seungcheol getting protective and saying it was dangerous to go out alone – and all of the mates went out for the day.

But you and the girls weren’t the only ones to go out. The rest of the pack had things to take care of. Some had work, some had class, and others just left because they didn’t want to have to take care of two kids.

“Come on, Jihoon,” Soonyoung begged, knowing the shorter wolf didn’t have anything he actually had to do today. “Why won’t you stay?”

“Because I don’t want to be around a kid,” Jihoon scoffed.

“That’s mean!” Soonyoung gasped. “What did Kaito ever do to you, huh?”

Jihoon grabbed the motorcycle helmet from the key hook by the front door, opening the door, “I was talking about you,” he stated before leaving.

Which meant it was just Soonyoung and little Kaito for the day. Kaito obviously didn’t mind, as he’d taken quite the liking to your mate. He even took the time to give him a nickname because “Soonyoung is too long, and you should have something to match me and _____”.

Kaito and Hoshi were partners in crime, and even though Soonyoung definitely made for a great babysitter, leaving them alone in the house for the day was probably the worst idea anyone ever had. You didn’t know they’d be left alone, and Jihoon figured it wasn’t his problem.

Three hours into the day, and the pair had already gathered every blanket from every room to make “the world’s biggest blanket fort”, made chocolate milk with extra chocolate that Kaito eventually threw up after running laps around the house, and had already set Jun’s trashcan on fire. Clearly, things were going well.

But they still had a few more hours to go.

As the two laid under their giant blanket fort – Kaito in one of Jihoon’s shirts because he threw up on his and refused to wear a women’s shirt, and Jihoon was the tiniest man in the house – Soonyoung flipped through the channels.

“Hoshi?” Kaito looked over at the wolf curiously.

“Hmm?” he hummed, seeming in a trance from the flickering of channels.

“Did _____ tell you we got more chickens?” he asked.

Soonyoung nodded, “Think so…”

“They’re getting eated again,” he informed Soonyoung.

Immediately, the wolf looked away from the TV to the 3-year-old, “Huh?”

“I said they’re getting eated again.”

“It’s eaten, Toto. What’s eating them?”

“I dunno! I’m only three!”

Soonyoung laughed loudly, reaching over to ruffle the younger boy’s hair, “Right, my bad. Come on, let’s go investigate.”

Like a good adult, Soonyoung got Kaito in his light-up sneakers before he carried him piggyback style down the street to your home. Kaito sang a few Japanese songs he knew on the way while Soonyoung encouraged his very off-key singing. He also noted that someone in your family must listen to Babymetal since he recognized the lyrics to Karate.

Finally reaching the property, Soonyoung let Kaito off of his back when he squirmed so he could run over to the garage door. Soonyoung found the key where you had told him it was many times before, and opened the door carefully as to not let any of the chickens out. He noticed, as Kaito had said, there were significantly less chickens than there had been before.

“Well,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “we have to do something about it.”

“I have a plan!” Kaito grinned before waving Soonyoung down to his height.

The wolf wasn’t sure why Kaito wanted it to be a secret, but he played along anyway. However, his face lit up when he heard the young child’s solution, thinking he had taught him well.

“I like the way you think!” Soonyoung grinned. “Do you have something to put them in?”

“I got a wagon.”

“That’s a little too small, bud.”

Kaito hummed as he looked around before his eyes landed on the wooden structure in the yard, “What about that? It’s my dad’s.”

It was a hook-up to their small tractor. It was used to carry produce when their dad had owned a small vegetable farm, but it didn’t have much use now. It wasn’t too big, though, so Soonyoung figured he could manage to make it work, especially with his strength.

“Help me load them up,” he nodded before going to get the cart from the edge of the yard.

“Done,” Soonyoung sighed as he closed the door to the room the chickens would call home for a while until they figured out what was lurking near your house that was eating them.

Obviously, Soonyoung immediately assumed Jinsoo since he’d been spotted there before. He just didn’t understand why the werewolf would be eating the chickens you let out into the yard. He had a place to live, and he could shift back into human form; what did he have to eat animals for? Maybe just to piss the pack off?

Then again, there was a good chance it was just some wild animal. Did that mean he would let his guard down? Not at all.

“Hey Kai?” he looked down at the boy sitting on the floor like he was exhausted – even though he didn’t just pull a cart for 3 miles.

“Uh huh?”

“What do you feed them?” Soonyoung wondered, having never been much of a farmer. “Like…do they get hungry?”

Kaito looked at the older boy like he was stupid, “Everything gets hungry, Hoshi.”

He sighed, sitting beside Kaito, “No, I mean do they have to be fed at certain times of the day? Like dogs or something?”

“They’re not dogs, they’re chickens, Hoshi!”

Soonyoung sighed, laying back on the floor and just staring at the ceiling. Why was he asking a 3-year-old when he literally had Google in his pocket?

They didn’t have chicken feed, but they had bread. Therefore, he would feed them bread. Ducks liked bread, chickens and ducks were both birds, so chickens have to like bread. Who doesn’t like bread?

So there the two were: sitting on the floor in the room full of chickens while they pulled off little pieces of bread from the slices and tossed them about the room as the chickens went to peck at it. Kaito was having the best time, picking off pieces and saving them up so he could hold them in his hands and toss them around like confetti. Who knew someone could have so much fun with chickens?

Suddenly, Soonyoung heard the front door open, followed by a yell that very quickly turned into a gasp, “We’re ho…my god…”

You were back, and clearly, you had seen the mess.

“Kaito!” you called.

“_____!” he cheered, dropping the slices of bread he had in his hands and raced to the door, opening it and running out.

Soonyoung made sure none of the chickens got out before he left, slipping through the doorway before closing it securely. Kaito was halfway down the stairs, and you were looking into the living room in horror. The other mates just looked tired.

“_____!” Kaito called as he ran straight into you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Kaito, what did you do?” you breathed, not taking your eyes off of the living room that looked like a tornado hit it, and then a giant that clearly wasn’t an architect made a blanket fort for shelter.

Kaito shook his head, pointing behind him, “Hoshi made that!”

“The mess?” Aya asked.

“Excuse you, that was both of us!” Soonyoung frowned. “Don’t blame me for the whole thing.”

You turned to the mates, profusely apologizing for the actions of your brother, and mate. Faye laughed, shaking her head and tossing an arm around you as the other girls went straight into the mess to clean it up.

“Sweetheart, don’t even worry,” the tall girl told you. “Soonyoung pulled this stuff way before Kaito showed up.”

Your small crew cleaned up the mess before any of the wolves returned home. Kaito was fast asleep in your lap with his head on your chest before the first flood of boys came through the door. Mingyu immediately went to the kitchen to help Juri make dinner; Minghao, Chan, and Jeonghan joined your group in the living room; and Joshua went to his room to study. Jihoon came home and walked right past the living room, and Wonwoo showed up from work and laid on the floor in front of the TV with his head in Faye’s lap. Then Seungcheol returned with Seokmin, Hansol, Seunkwan, and Jun. The alpha went to the kitchen, Seokmin, Hansol, and Seungkwan hung out in the living room, and Jun went up the stairs.

“Told ya nobody would know,” Aya smiled at you.

“Know what, baby?” Jeonghan wondered.

“Nothing,” she quickly assured him, pecking his lips just to prove there was nothing to worry about.

But then there was a scream from upstairs. Not even a manly yell; a scream.

“Why the fuck is my room full of poultry?!” Jun cried.

All eyes automatically looked to Soonyoung. Even the pack that was in the kitchen came to the living room to look at him accusingly. You were even staring at him in shock.

“You stole our chickens?!” you asked him.

Not knowing how to explain himself, Soonyoung shrugged, “I missed my first love.”

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might-forget-this-blagg-exists · 2 years

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Something I don't know how I want to interpret is Tiziano and Squalo's deaths.

《Warnings: long winded rant that takes forever to get to the point, overemotional pontifications anout squatizi based on remembered details, theres a screenshot of a jjba death scene and also a statue of jesus about halfway through this post》

So, basic surface level, theyre villians of the week who die in battle to the protagonists, not the first and not the last. The villians having bonds with each other is a common trope in part 5, and we see a lot of different takes on this basic setup:

Sale and Zucchero were allies who seemed to have a bond of convenience at least, the fact that Zucchero didn't knowingly sell out Sale even after being tortured is notable imo

Pesci and Proscuitto had a student/mentor relationship where the student surpassed the mentor, the understated half of the duo turned out to be the more formidable opponent, as per Proscuitto's expectations

Ciocolatta and Secco put a spin on the Proscuitto and Pesci dynamic, as well as the general formula as a whole. Cio expressed love for Secco despite his otherwise low opinion on the worth of basically any other human being we can see, and after the heartwrenching twist that there was still humanity and longing for connection in this depraved man's heart, in an even more painful twist of the knife Secco revealed that love was one-sided.

Sorbet and Gelato weren't a fight, but the love they had for each other and their team was heavily implied. Risotto, if no one else, must have had a great amount of love for them when they were alive to have gone to such lengths to avenge their deaths. In their own ways, the Formaggio, Illuso, Melone, Ghiaccio and Risotto fights were each motivated by the deaths of Sorbet and Gelato. (Sidenote that Tiz and Squalo are generally accepted to be a "what if bucci gang fought sorgela" scenario dunno if this is supported but it would make sense)

Carne is in general a mystery, but in this context I think he could be seen as an inversion of La Squadra. They fought to avenge their fallen comerades by betraying the boss, Carne avenges the betrayed trust of the boss by trying to take down the traitors with the sacrifice of his lonely life, smthn like that.

Doppio and Diavolo...I dont know. What comes to mind is that Doppio died waiting for his boss to call him. Despite all his cooing compliments when they shared a body, Diavolo never once mentioned Doppio after he got a new roommate with Trish's soul. Maybe it could be extrapolated as distraction or temporary ignorance, i.e. if he had known or had time to after the fight with GER he would have mourned, but thats not in the text as far as I know.

Are there any other fights...uh, I think Luca and Polpo served similar roles of showing that Passione is in fact a criminal gang full of people who kill and extort people for money? Kind of setting a tone to be subverted, since they're really anomalous overall. Maybe there's some kind of similarity between their situations and Carne? But thats a bit too off topic, I think.

Point is, theres an overall theme of the villians being people with all kinds of relationships to each other, in similar fashion to the protagonist group. And over and over again, this humanity is shown as not being enough for Giorno and the others--who act as judge jury and executioner as their opponents do the same to them--to find any of them innocent.

There's an odd tragedy to the fact that these people were killed, its been pointed out before that Squadra and Bucci gang secretly had the same goal and they could have saved each other so much greif if they'd only teamed up. But in every case, the fight ending on the death of these evil but unmistakably human characters is treated as a triumph every time. No tears from the protagonists are ever shed for them, and no thoughts are spared to their bloody corpses except to be certain the team had acheived victory and was no longer under attack. Half the time, they aren't even mourned by their own teammates.

Ok so thats a lot of prelude. And for what point? Squalo and Tiziano fit right in with all this, right? The spin they put on the formula is really straight forward; a typical brains+brawns setup that ends in Narancia killing both of them with support from Giorno's spare tongue. I mean, I'd argue Carne would have been a better intro fight to hammer home that Unita is a different breed from Squadra altogether, but thats off topic again. Why TF do I keep talking about Carne Im serious I'm trying to stay focused but I keep thinking about meat man,

Anyway. What I want to finally talk about in regards to Tiziano and Squalo's defeats: Tiziano's death was treated as noble, as a stark contrast to every single other villian death I can think of.

Theres even a Jesus's Bizarre Adventure reference.

Like, it's not nearly as much weight as that panel/screenshot of Abbaccio in the clouds, for example. Closest thing I can think of is Proscuitto getting caught in the train wheels or Risotto's last ditch effort to kill Diavolo with Aerosmith, which I feel were moments more in the ball park of gruesome tenacity than noble death? Well, maybe those are synonymous, I dont know.

Point being, Tiziano was out of the line of fire but he threw himself into Narancia's bullets to save Squalo. Not only did this give him liquid to attack with, his death caused Squalo to abandon the boss in his final moments and let pure personal vengeance drive him.

What gets me is that, comparing his death to the other villians, Tiziano's death was given tragic weight by the metaphorical camera. In stark contrast to even Squalo--who died moments after him so Narancia could have his iconic Volare Via battle cry--Tiziano's death wasn't a moment of heroic triumph, it was framed as a tragic but selfless act in just about every way it could be. As if in punishment, Narancia was suddenly cornered by the blood that had gotten on his shoulder that Clash jumped into. And while Squalo cradled Tiziano in his arms, Tiziano spent his final breaths reassuring Squalo it wouldn't be for nothing with a calm, gentle smile.

Basically every take on this moment I've seen has agreed that Tiziano's sacrifice was the strongest evidence for their love for each other being a romantic bond. But to play devil's advocate for a moment, Tiziano was a strategist, Narancia had identified both him and Squalo as the attacking stand users and was in the process of shooting bullets at them while Clash was still in the underground pipes. There was basically no chance he could get away if he ran, Squalo was the heavy hitter and could defeat Narancia only if he had Clash. Aside from just screaming "HE'S GOT A KNIFE HES STABBED SOMEONE" and causing uncontrolled unpredictable chaos in the crowd, or ~somehow~ using Talking Heads redirect the bullets to hit the well Clash was trying to emerge from (which seems to be a bit out of TH's ability), sacrificing himself so Squalo could finish the mission could conceivably be read like a cold strategic move.

It would definitely read like that if Tiziano had a Secco moment upon his death, wouldn't it?

If Tiziano didn't use his last moments to smile at and comfort Squalo.

If Tiziano hadn't been so worried whenever Squalo took damage, so quick to tell him to hide with him in the plaza crowd.

If Tiziano hadn't all but bundled Squalo's wounds as best he could and tried to get him to retreat without saying the word "retreat".

If Tiziano's actions when Squalo was in danger because of the boss's mission wasn't so close to betraying the boss without going all the way through.

If their last words...

...

...One of the most heartwrenching moments that stuck with me just as much as any protagonist death is for a character I'm still not fond of. Cio's last onscreen words were "I love you" to Secco. For me at least, in that moment the cartoonish villany fell away and showed that there was a bleeding human heart underneath. Suddenly his death meant more than just another dispatched murderer. He was unmistakably evil and horrible and deserved every single scrap of pain he got in the 7 page muda and much more. But he was a human.

Maybe I'm thinking of things the wrong way, or theres some detail I missed, but it feels wrong to me that Tiziano's last words weren't "now you have liquid to summon Clash". It was about how this was still a victory for the boss. Squalo's last words weren't "forget the boss, im killing to avenge you" but "how can these traitors keep going after betraying the boss" the moment after he, in spirit, did the exact same thing his opponent did.

It feels to me like their human hearts had been present for quite awhile, but in order to remind us of their villany so the knife-weilding gangster who triumphantly shot them both to death would be just that slightest bit more heroic for his iconic moment, their humanity was swept under the rug before the sledgehammer was brought down. Instead of being human in their final moments, they're regressed into the boss's pawns.

And I don't know how to feel about that.

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radabadabing-bing · 3 years

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Ruling Me

You ever get an idea, and then you realize how good that idea is? I dunno what overcame me, but I remembered an idea I had way back when I started the blog. Didn’t have a single thing written for it, but I sat down and crunched it out in like two or three sessions. However, couldn’t think of a title, so just slapped on a slightly fitting mediocre one haha

Anyways, that particular idea was that Michalis rubbed Niles the wrong way, and honestly you should know what comes next if you are following this blog. It also let me write dialogue for this which I love to do, I’m pretty pleased overrall with how it turned out. Enjoy!

Niles and Michalis were a little less than acquaintances. They were often deployed at the same time, sure, but to imply they were anything more than occasional coworkers was...generous. Neither had a personality that would particularly jell with the other, nor backgrounds that befitted such a thing. It was more or less a strict work relationship. So why Niles felt a need to approach him on that particular day was something of a mystery. Maybe it was just the convenience of the location they had passed by.

Niles had begun with a particularly tame conversation starter, especially by his standards. He had been loitering in a hall as Michalis passed by. “Well well, King Michalis himself. Nice to see you about-”

“Speak when spoken to, cur.” Michalis didn’t even let him finish, before turning to him with a disgusted look. He glared at the archer with a rather unwarranted disdain.

Somewhat flabbergasted, Niles could only say back- “Excuse me?”

“Did I stutter?” Michalis hissed. “I have no need to talk to you. I can barely tolerate your presence on the battlefield. Know your place.” He pointed a gloved finger at Niles, malice exuding from his continued grimace. “I can’t stand the sight of you. Begone.”

When Niles continued to sit where he had been at the first place, surprise still evident on his face, Michalis took his leave first. Storming down the hall, in his dark cloak. Niles was no stranger to such angers, but usually it took him actually doing something first. Sure, there were some haughty nobles in Nohr who would likely see him in the exact same light, but he wasn’t fighting alongside those nobles. Surely he was warranted a chance, a modicum of respect?

And that got under Niles skin. Just a bit.

Now there were perhaps less extreme methods of annoying Michalis he could’ve gotten to, such as planting himself in hallways that the King of Macedon would certainly pass through. Not to mention, Michalis couldn’t exactly just attack Niles outright- The Summoner would have something to say about that. But just annoying Michalis also seemed a tad...Too gradual. After all, he had delved into verbal assault quite quickly. So maybe Niles could also jump to an extreme as well.

It had been three days since that incident. Michalis was walking alone as always. His face stern, like he had a good reason to be grumpy in an empty hallway. Though he would soon not be so alone, as someone grabbed his long red hair. He whipped around to see who it was, only spotting Niles’s face for a moment- Until an odd scent and sensation overcame him. It all went dark.

He awoke in a much different location. Brief sunlight was all that illuminated the room, as Michalis’s eyes darted around. They quickly settled on a particularly smug man, leaning against the wall. “Good, you're awake. Glad to know I didn’t overdo it.”

Michalis wasn’t even about to waste breath on Niles, until he realized that he was bound to a chair. He grunted as he pulled against the ropes binding his hands together, scuffing the chair across the floor a few inches, trying to free himself. Finally, he snarled. “Scoundrel. Release me at once!”

“Oh? And why should I do that?” Niles said back. “I don’t go out of my way to tie you up just so I can let you go. Besides, it’s not like you had anywhere to be fast, considering you spend most of your time brooding alone. We have time to chat.”

Michalis futilely struggled more. “So what do you want? To kill me?”

“No, not at all. I couldn’t get away with that, trust me. Besides, you are far too entertaining to simply kill.” Niles shook his head. “I just want to...how to put it...Knock you down a peg.”

“Humiliate me? Are you just going to leave me here...to waste away, left with you as my only mercy?” Michalis hated that idea. Left to rot in a shady backroom until this...lowly rogue...came to give him food and water.

“Decent guess, but also no. I’m moreso interested in your words...You couldn’t ‘stand’ to see me, right?” The smug look on his face seemed to grow ever more smug, much to the annoyance of Michalis.

“So what?! Are you going to break my legs? Paralyze me?! Stop toying with me! Get to the point!”

Niles decided to humor Michalis. “Yes, yes, fine. Look up.”

Michalis did, finding that there was some sort of jury rigged contraption above him, and also sitting behind him. Barrels, a tube cascading down...What was it?

“I don’t understand.”

“I figured you wouldn’t. I was inspired by a similar machine, made for filling troughs. A time saving machine for farmers, though I’ve made it a bit more...direct. As funny as the image of you eating out of a trough is, I’m rather impatient.” Niles went over, and grabbed the tube.

“What are you even prattling on about-” Michalis was silenced by the tube being shoved in his mouth. “Mmpf!”

“I told you, it was direct.” The proud King tried spitting out the tube, trying to uselessly speak as he did so. Meanwhile, Niles turned a valve, opening the barrels. A brightly colored liquid descended. “I’ll be honest, this stuff wasn’t cheap to get a hold of. So don’t waste it, okay?”

As the liquid got closer, Michalis tried harder and harder to spit out the tube- He wasn’t sure what the hell that stuff was, but he certainly didn’t want it in his body. Though it was for naught. Soon the substance was filling his mouth. It was sickly sweet in taste, nearly overpowering. He could feel it dribbling down his chin as he tried to keep himself from swallowing it, before giving in.

He took a deep gulp of the liquid, feeling it sink to his stomach. He looked to Niles again, looking down at him with his sly grin. Michalis grunted in resistance as Niles ruffled his hair. “See? It’s not that bad. Now, I do have other things to do, so I’ll come back soon to make sure you’re doing well.” And like that, Niles slipped out of the room, leaving the feeding King alone.

Michalis grunted more, struggled more, even after Niles left. He wasn’t sure what this substance was, only that it was...honestly really good. The taste was amazing. Still, Michalis’s prideful mind forced him to keep trying to resist. Not to mention, his stomach would fill up and, and he’d vomit at some point...right?

His stomach certainly felt full. It gurgled and grumbled, feeling bloated. He looked down, surprised to see it actually bulging decently outwards. And further outwards. His regal wear and belt felt tight against it. It...was just bloated, right? Michalis’s angered glare soon softened into one of worry.

His stomach gurgled again, louder this time. He could see his belly begin to push over the belt, like it wasn’t stuffed full, but rather filling out with soft fat. As Michalis took another gulp, he swore he could feel his pants and armor filling out. Fabric and metal joints growing taut. Niles words...Couldn’t stand to see him. Things began to click in Michalis’s head.

He struggled against his restraints once more, but it was still pointless. Not to mention, he couldn’t even start trying to spit out the tube. Not because it was difficult, though that was certainly true, no, it was just too good to do so. And with each gulp, his clothes became tighter, straining further to contain his growing form. Uncomfortably tight, actually.

The first victim of his now burgeoning body was the belt. The sound of leather creaking, cracking, snapping apart. The metal buckle shot across the room, clattering on the floor. Michalis’s belly promptly flopped out, pale flesh laying upon his lap. Whatever muscular frame he had before had given away to his currently chubby one. He let out muffled groans as the seams on the sides of his pants split, more pudge spilling out. The chair slightly creaked under him.

His struggling had ended now, as he was starting to willingly drink the substance. His pride was beginning to lose out, as he slowly got lost in the taste. Unconsciously, he began to suckle at the tube- He wanted- No, he needed more. He wasn’t even watching as his clothes began bursting and tearing all over. How his pecs had turned into blubbery tits. His ass spilling over the sides of the chair, his thighs not far behind, as his pants tore further and further. His gurgling gut grew larger by the second, filling with the concoction, immediately turning it into more blubber to pack on.

His shirt was practically tearing down the middle, as his cravat became shreds. His thick neck and second chin wouldn’t fit it. Buttons popping, metal bits and bobs pinging off onto the floor. The chair’s groaning got louder as he surpassed the weight it was meant for. Truthfully, he had likely surpassed that weight far before the chair had begun to give out.

Before the chair came apart, however, the restraints holding back Michalis’s fatty arms snapped apart. It was only rope, and the growth had managed to pull it far enough. If Michalis was still as bitter as he was the few minutes before, he would’ve certainly pulled the tube out. But that was long gone to this Michalis, who reached for the tube not to pull it out, but to demand even more. Though his arms were a tad too inefficiently large to reach it by now.

A snapping sound briefly brought Michalis back to some of his senses, as he fell to the floor with a slam. He looked down at himself, realizing his freedom- Though ‘freedom’ was a meaningless term when one couldn’t move. An anger welled up in his mind towards Niles- That vicious ne’er do well who was responsible for all this. How dare he do this to the King of Macedon!

But then, another thought- This was incredibly enjoyable. Ugh, how the thought of growing even larger brought him elation. And if he was King, he certainly deserved such a luxury! The thoughts of Niles began to fade once more as he returned to his guzzling, spreading further and further on the floor.

The only clothes that hadn’t ripped completely to shreds was his cloak, which covered very little of his body. The rest was coated in thick fat, spreading further into the room. More and more he encroached upon the room, his frame nearly immobile.

Though soon his growth came to a halt. He suckled the last drops of the potion from the tube. And Michalis definitely tried to get as much as he could out of it, and relaxing his head back. The tube was promptly spat out, a much easier feat now that it wasn’t feeding him the delicious nectar. Another rumble from his stomach, and Michalis let out a belch.

He was likely over six hundred pounds at this point, if not heavier. He sat on his titanic ass, under ripped fabrics and crushed wood. His gut similarly sat flat on the floor, two large rolls encompassing it. His man boobs laid upon it, plump and full. A chunky neck, a few additional chins, an all around chubby face. His long red hair and reforming scowl would be one of the few hints that this man was Michalis.

The sunlight flitting through the thin cracks had turned to the orange shine of twilight. Michalis felt...dissatisfied. With? He wasn’t absolutely sure. Perhaps dissatisfied he was now immobile. That he was unable to flaunt his new form, away in this dank room. Or was it the fact he couldn’t reach down and pleasure himself? Or maybe it was the lack of that liquid elation, and how his form grew ever more expansive…

He had no time to consider that. There were noises. Footsteps. Michalis stood to attention- Well, his head did at least, focused on the sole entrance and exit. The rest of his body nudged and jiggled slightly.

“Is someone here? I heard a-”

Before the massive king stood Corrin, another not quite acquaintance. In more standard circumstances, Michalis would’ve been more neutral on his presence versus Niles. But now? Michalis face once again grimaced, though made less intimidating by his jowls and pillow like cheeks. Fists clenched as he looked down upon the young prince, who looked upon him, shocked at the transformation his teammate had undergone.

“Bring me Niles,” He huffed out.

“N-Niles? Why do you-”

“Because,” Michalis didn’t feel like he had time for this. “I need more.”

#feeder emblem #fire emblem weight gain #male weight gain #male expansion #its funny because niles and michalis are both bitches #but like niles is kinda a fun bitch #and michalis is like...#also vaguely based off my longtime feh team

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destiniesfic · 3 years

Photo

132 Hours, Chapter 2:

“Say ‘please?’”

“Fuck off, Greenbriar.”

“Close enough.”

Read chapter 2 on AO3 or read below:

This is the shape of my nightmares:

My sister Taryn and I are thirteen years old, sick and miserable. We’ve just endured our first heats and stayed home from school for a week with doctor permission. Even now, we feel residual awfulness: headaches and sore muscles. Heats are painful when there’s no one to help you through them, and obviously we’re too young to mate. We sheltered in our rooms, and our adoptive father briefly hired an omega nurse to tend to our high temperatures and help us wrap up in blankets, so at least we felt safe and cocooned.

Everybody knows why we missed school, and they whisper about it behind our backs. Even before we presented, our designation was obvious. The rest of our class—the rest of the school—is alpha kids, and the ones in our year have all started growing out of their baby fat, shooting up like wheat stalks. Taryn and I are only barely taller than we were last year, our cheeks are still soft, and we are gaining weight in our hips and chests. Everything about this is awful. Nothing is fun.

We are outside for gym class. The alpha kids, growing into their bodies, have a lot of extra energy, so they need to spend time circling the track or tackling each other in games of capture the flag. Taryn and I will join them until we get tired, but if we show signs of flagging, we’re benched. Omegas aren’t as sturdy. Omegas break.

Today, the teacher is more generous. During our game of capture the flag, she simply mandates we play defense, guarding the precious flag, and abstain from running around with our classmates. It’s boring, but fine. We get to talk to each other while the alphas tussle among themselves upfield.

Except a few of them are “on defense” today too—the alpha elites, too lazy or too important for gym, who can slack off. As the only two omegas on school grounds who aren’t staff, Taryn and I are categorically beneath their notice, but we know every member of the clique by name: Locke, the son of a wealthy consultant who’s never home, always traveling; Nicasia, whose mom is a senator; Valerian—nobody knows what his family does so we all kind of assume it’s crime; Cardan, the youngest of six heirs to the most absurd family fortune this side of the Rockies.

Already, they are taller than us, stronger than us, looking unfairly sculpted in the autumn sun. Already I am aware of how we are different.

Then the wind blows past me, picking up my hair. And the scene changes.

The first thing I notice when Cardan unexpectedly strides toward me is that he smells amazing. He smells so incredible that I goggle at him for a second, baffled by how I somehow didn’t notice this about him before. I feel a clenching in my stomach and the urge to do something, although at the time I don’t know what. And then, while I am paralyzed by his scent, he gives me a hard shove for no reason, knocking me off-balance.

I land on my backside, an embarrassing but safe place to land, padded with muscle and fat. Our adoptive father always taught us that it’s better to land there than anywhere else, better to suffer a little humiliation than to crack your skull open or shatter your ankle or wrist. It still smarts, but at least the only thing bruised is my pride.

Then Valerian throws his head back and laughs. “That’s where she belongs,” he crows. “On her back, like a good little omega.”

Nicasia thinks that’s hilarious. Locke raises his eyebrows, blinking at us with large, tawny eyes. And Cardan, the instigator. Cardan just sneers.

That sneer has haunted me. I’ve seen it countless times since then. He starts holding his nose when he passes me in the hallway. Whenever I get complacent, he makes sure to whisper in my ear that I reek. He and his friends seem to find it more fun to bully the alphas smaller or weaker than them—omegas already know their place, after all—but that does not protect us when they’re bored, or when said alphas further down the food chain need to take out their own aggressions.

I think they thought it would break me.

They couldn’t know it would do the opposite.

---

“Jude?”

I open my eyes to a darkened room, and groan. I feel vaguely like I’ve been run over by a truck, then the truck stopped and someone picked me up and threw me in the back of it, and we proceeded to drive down a very bumpy road. In other words: like shit. My head throbs, and when I try to sit up, the world spins and I flop back over.

“What happened?” I mutter. Everything is greyish and blurry. Dim light seems to be filtering in from somewhere above my head and to the left, but there isn’t very much of it. I hold my hand up in front of my eyes and squint at it until I stop seeing double.

There’s a relieved sigh from somewhere past my hand. A male voice. “You’re okay.”

I make a second attempt at sitting up and am more successful this time. My shoulder scrapes against a wall to my right, so I lean into it. The light source I clocked before is a small window, longer than it is wide, set high up above me. And on the other side of the room, sitting across from me, sits the dark shape of a boy, or a man, or someone caught eternally in between those two things.

Cardan.

I blink at him. “You look like shit.”

“Yeah, you too.” Cardan rubs his eye. He isn’t sneering now. In fact, he looks worse than I’ve ever seen him. His hair is messy—which is nothing new, people are doubtless running their hands through it all the time with how perpetually tousled it seems—but there are circles under his eyes and he looks pale. He’s also bleary-eyed and squinting a little. He doesn’t seem to have any visible injuries, though, although jury’s out on whether that’s good or bad. I’ve often thought he could stand to get pushed around a little more, instead of always being the one to do the pushing.

“I gave you the mattress,” he says, gesturing at what I’m sitting on. “There was only one.”

I look down. I’m indeed sitting on a mattress. There’s no linens, but someone has thrown a slightly scratchy blanket over the lower half of my body. I peer around, dread sinking in as I begin to grasp the severity of our situation. “Oh, fuck.”

“I think it’s ransom,” Cardan volunteers. “I mean, I really can’t think of anything else it would be.”

I hug my arms to my chest and say the thing drilled into every omega’s brain since they’re old enough to wander off from their parents. “What about sex slavery?”

“Yeah, there’s not a huge demand for alpha men on the black market. Although…” He looks down at himself and smirks a little. He’s built like a classical sculpture and he is well aware of this fact. “Can’t blame them if they decided to make an exception.”

It’s impossible to think he’s making a joke about this, not when it’s actually a thing that could happen to me, a possibility that my stepmother Oriana warned us of ever since she married Madoc and inherited his adopted twins. Sex slavers looking to snatch up omega girls became our bogeymen.

But the odds are that Cardan’s right: it’s probably ransom. I imagine people would do and have done worse to get their hands on a fraction of the late Eldred Greenbriar’s billions.

But I say, “Maybe someone finally got tired of you being annoying as shit.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Feeling mouthy, are we?”

“Fuck off. This is your fault,” I accuse, wagging a finger at him. “You did this.”

Cardan blinks at me. “What, you think I kidnapped myself?”

“Not literally.” I slump back against the wall. “Although it seems like something you would do. You love attention.”

“Ah, yes. All of the attention I am getting from you in our cozy eight-by-ten cell. I’m just soaking it in.” He pantomimes splashing water on his face. “Great for the skin.”

“You’re in a playful mood.” But of course he’s feeling better than me. He would have needed a larger dose—of the chloroform? ether? they used on us to get us here—but he also would have bounced back quicker. Everything about alpha biology is kind of extra like that.

“I joke a lot when I’m nervous.” He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “I am actually freaking the fuck out.”

“Oh, great.”

“I do have water, though. Thought that might interest you.”

I sit up a little straighter. “God, my head is killing me. Yes.”

“Say ‘please?’”

“Fuck off, Greenbriar.”

“Close enough.”

Instead of getting up, which I think for a moment he might, he rolls the half-empty bottle of water across the floor and over to me. It bumps against the edge of the mattress and I have to lean over to grab it, which nearly makes me hurl then and there. The water helps, though. It’s room temp, but even a mouthful makes me feel more like a person.

“It’s not drugged,” Cardan calls. “Surprised you didn’t ask in advance.”

I flip him off. After I’ve drained the last of the bottle, I let myself just breathe, counting backwards from ten in my head. There are many warring emotions vying to tip me over the edge of a panic attack, but I can’t let them. I have to get out of here.

Cardan flicks at a bit of dust on the floor. When I am on three, he interrupts my mindful breathing. “You realize that, technically, we have now swapped saliva?”

“Ew.” I throw the empty water bottle at him and am annoyed when he catches it effortlessly from the air. “Could you be, like, useful for once in your life?”

“Sure.” He leans forward and lowers his voice, like he’s afraid someone might overhear. “There are three of them. One’s a woman, I think the other two are men. The only one I’ve seen is tall and white and barely spoke a word to me. He dropped off the water when I was still groggy.”

That is useful. Dammit. I frown. “Designation?”

“Dunno. Couldn’t get a read on him. I think they might be using maskers for their scents.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I exhale. “Tall” doesn’t have to mean alpha—my sister Vivi, who’s shorter than me, is proof enough of that. But it doesn’t sound good. “Any idea where we are?”

“I don’t think we’ve left Long Island. I don’t know for sure, though. We could be in Jersey for all I know.”

“Right.” I sigh again and rub my temples. “Okay, so ransom. Ransom. You could technically pay the ransom yourself, right? You’re over eighteen—”

“I’m twenty.” When I blink at him, he clarifies, “Repeated sixth grade, remember? And I just had my birthday in July.”

How could I forget? My life wasn’t exactly blissful before he came along, but it definitely got worse when he got bumped down to my year. “Okay, you’re twenty, and your dad died last year. So you’ve got your own money now.”

Cardan raises his eyebrows. “Wow. Real considerate.”

Now is definitely not the time to quibble over manners, but I manage, “Sorry, I guess.”

“Don’t be. He was a dick.” I glare at him, but he ignores me, patting down the pockets of his skinny jeans. “Huh, you know, when they took my phone and my wallet, they must have also taken the special checkbook I keep on me just for hostage situations. Think they’d accept Venmo?”

“Very funny.”

“But the real issue here is that I can’t touch my trust until I turn twenty-one.”

I wish I could say that didn’t interest me, but it does. Sure, Madoc has money. He’s a ruthlessly efficient attorney with killer instincts, and, among other prominent clients, he’s represented Cardan’s dad and both of his older brothers at one point or another. But he’s not among the alpha ultra-rich. Private helicopter rich. Secluded island rich. And I’m nosy enough about how the point one percent of the one percent lives. Anyone would be. So I ask, “Why’s that?”

“Why did my dad do anything?” Cardan folds his hands behind his head. “To make my life difficult, I guess. It was probably to ensure I wouldn’t embarrass myself by buying and crashing seventeen Porsches in a row. Give that frontal lobe time to develop. He’s not here to say. Anyway, Balekin’s the trustee. Maybe there’s some clause about life-threatening emergencies.”

Balekin is Cardan’s oldest brother, but thinking about siblings makes me wonder, with a pang in my chest, about Taryn. What had she done when she and Locke couldn’t find me at the party? Had she panicked? Had she gotten home safe? I don’t want to think about Madoc because he’s probably freaking out in a big way, a side of him I have only seen once before, the last time someone threatened me. It’s more likely that he’ll tear the kidnappers limb from limb than give into anybody’s demands. I hope Balekin has a more level head, although given his reputation for throwing massive parties, I am not counting on it.

“Right,” I say. “So they’ll hit up Balekin for the money?”

“Dude, I don’t know. Honestly? He might have staged this himself to get at the trust, or more likely my stake in the corporation. In some ways, I think it’s better for my family if I disappear.”

It surprises me to hear him say that. “Wouldn’t—that would be a huge scandal, though?”

I don’t say what I think, which is Don’t they love you? But there’s a pretty big age gap between Cardan and his oldest siblings. They could be practically strangers for all I know.

Cardan just shrugs and looks gloomy.

“I don’t think they planned on getting me, too,” I say quietly. There’s only one mattress in the room. One bottle of water on hand for when Cardan woke up. And anyone who thinks they can extort “Mad Dog” Madoc is definitely biting off more than they can chew. But that curdles my stomach, because if Cardan hadn’t chased me down the beach, I probably would have woken up in my lavender canopied bed, safe. Probably with a killer headache from overstimulation, but safe. As safe as I can ever be.

“Yeah,” Cardan agrees, which doesn’t help me feel any better. “Wrong place, wrong time.”

I blow out a breath. “Well, Balekin better pay up in the next forty-eight hours, or we need to figure out how to get out of here. Otherwise we’re going to have problems.”

“We are?”

I swallow. I hate that I have to spell it out for him. But I keep my voice even, casual. “Unless you’ve got spare heat suppressants on you.”

Cardan looks dumbstruck. “Oh,” he says after a moment. “Shit, no. I must have left them in my other jeans with my hostage checkbook.”

I feel myself blush, which is ridiculous. Unregulated heat cycles, messy and inconvenient as they are, are nothing to be ashamed of, as everyone says. Just a quirk of biology. Just the way I am. There’s even a group of pretty radical omega activists out there fighting to destigmatize unregulated cycles, citing the damage that suppressants can wreak on the body. Except my designation is going to be pretty problematic if I’m locked in this room with Cardan for reasons other than societal stigma.

To be honest, it’s already a problem. The room is probably ten feet long, not long enough for us both to lie down across from each other without curling up to avoid touching. I am already hyper-aware of his presence, the nervous drumming of his long fingers, the terrible urge I have to run my fingers through his already messy curls. It’s just chemistry, but if it’s bad now, it’ll be about eighty times worse for both of us if I go into heat.

And if any of our captors are also alphas…

I shake myself all over. I can’t go down that road. I’ll never pull myself back. I’ll just curl up in a little ball and then it’ll be up to Cardan to save us, which, no thank you. “Yeah. So, one way or another we have to get out of here.”

Cardan goes pale. “Jude, I—”

“So we assume nobody’s coming,” I continue. “Use the next twenty-four hours to figure out as much as we can about the people who’ve taken us and where we’re being held, and the next twenty-four to escape. That’s the plan.”

“That’s a reasonable plan,” he says, vaguely startled.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“I’m not. You were valedictorian, of course you have a plan. Just, uh, my mind went totally blank when you pointed out you’d—”

“We don’t have to talk about it, okay?” I snap. “I assume you want that just as much as I do.” Which is not at all.

The way he pales further tells me I’m not far from wrong. I mean, he’s always made it clear how much he’s hated my scent, the way I look, the fact that I get better grades than him. He hates pretty much everything about me, because I am an omega and he is an alpha, and that means he should be on top of the world and I should know my place.

I massage my temples, trying to clear my head. “No, we’re going to get out of here before that happens.”

For reasons I can’t pretend to understand, that seems to reassure Cardan. He nods and unfolds his arms, letting his head fall back against the wall. His eyes close. “Okay.”

I am surprised that he seems at all willing to trust me, but I suppose he is pretty low on options. That’s his mistake. Already I am thinking of what a relief it will be to leave him behind, even though I know that, morally speaking, I should be formulating an escape plan for the both of us. Besides, abandoning Cardan to his fate wouldn’t really solve any of my problems. But I wouldn’t have to face his sneer anymore, wouldn’t have to wonder what it would take to convince him I have earned my place when the answer is clearly “Nothing, ever.”

“I just have to figure out how,” I mutter under my breath.

Cardan cracks one dark eye open to look at me, but I ignore him, staring up at the little window. There has to be a way to crack this place open like a nut, and if there is, I’ll find it. There is no other option but this, no other way but out.

I refuse to believe otherwise.

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jurdan fanfic #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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yourfavewriteress · 4 years

Text

chance for something more (part 2) | tyler seguin

part 1

Teaser: “I wish on everything that I could take it back.”

I sighed, dropping myself in the booth across from Tyler. He had invited me to a small, quiet restaurant in Dallas a few days after the party.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Hello to you, too.”

“I’m an idiot,” I said.

He laughed, “I know this, but why this time?”

“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes. “I was doing my laundry before this and let’s just say I now have a shitload of pink clothing.”

“And, you hate pink,” He said.

“Bingo,” I nodded. “What are you drinking?”

He slid his glass over to me, “Beer.”

I took a sip, crinkling my nose, “You’re sick.”

We both laughed just as the waiter appeared. “Hi, can I get you a drink? Or another one?”

“Yes, I’ll just have a screwdriver,” I said.

“Another beer, please,” Tyler said. The waiter nodded, disappearing.

“So,” Tyler breathed, taking off his hat and placing it on the booth next to him. “I’m sorry for springing this on you at a party, first of all.”

I shrugged, “It’s fine. I’m just happy you told me, since you said you’ve been holding this for awhile.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Yeah, I have.”

“Are you seriously not going to tell me how long?” I raised my eyebrows.

“I never stopped,” He said. “Thinking about you, I mean. And, us. No matter who I was with, I can’t act like I didn’t think about you.”

“How do you want this conversation to go, Tyler?” I asked, looking around the restaurant. I could feel my chest tightening at his words, and I knew this was just the beginning of a very long and trying conversation. “Do you want me to just listen or…?”

“I have a lot of shit I want to get off my chest,” He let out a laugh. “And, I dunno, maybe you do, too. I just want to explain myself because we haven't talked about it in almost a decade and thinking back, I know I didn’t give you the explanation you deserved. To be honest, there’s no explanation for what I did, I know that. I’ve been racking my brain this past week, and even these past years to understand what happened, and why I fucked up so bad, but it’s like everything was amazing. And, then it wasn’t.”

“Because you cheated, Tyler.”

“I know, fuck,” He paused, his eyes dropping to the table. “Cheating on you is by far one my my biggest regrets in my life. And, I wish I could tell you what I was thinking, or why I did it, but I just can’t. We had just won that game, and we got all these bottles to celebrate. All of us were so fucked up and high off the win. The house was packed, and there were girls everywhere. They wanted us to sign this, and sign that. Take this picture. Answer that question. It was fucking hectic.”

“Sounds like most of your nights after a game.”

“No, no, this night was different. We just clenched a spot in the championships, we thought we were big shit. All the guys had at least three girls hanging off of them, that’s just how it was. And. when she came in-”

“-Please,” I whispered. “Minimal details.”

He nodded, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I let my guard down for a second, but I was drunk and too far gone to even realize what was really happening. I know this hurts, but I have to be honest. I know that’s what you want and what you deserve. It felt good, I’ll never lie about that. But realizing what it meant for us? I wish on everything that I could take it back. It was a stupid, stupid decision that hurt you. I was a fucking idiot, Y/N, and you did not deserve that. You didn’t deserve your boyfriend and your best friend to do that to you. You didn’t deserve me treating you like that and for that, I am so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. For the cheating, for breaking your heart, for not realizing how truly fucking incredible you are, for not prioritizing us and you, for disrespecting you and our relationship. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. For it all.”

Silence took over the table as I processed his words.

This was a very different conversation than we had a while ago. Eighteen-year-old Tyler apologized for cheating, and probably meant it, but also did not understand the gravity of his actions. He was still a kid. We were still kids. But, it didn’t hurt any less.

This Tyler sitting in front of me was not a kid. He stopped being a kid the second reality caught up to him in Boston. I’ve seen him grow into the man he is today. If it wasn’t for the growth of both of us, we would never have been able to reconnect as friends and even have this conversation today.

“I didn’t cheat on you because I didn’t love you, or there was anything wrong with us. You didn’t do anything to deserve this, this was all me. I was selfish and I didn’t think about you or your feelings. I should have been fucking thinking about you,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “I promised not to hurt you and I did. I know this all just words, but I’m sorry.”

“Did you see her again?” I whispered, looking down at the table. I almost thought Tyler didn’t hear me but he shook his head immediately.

“No, absolutely not,” He said. “That night was the only time I saw her.”

“What do you want me to say?” I asked.

“Anything,” He said, softly.

I paused, “You know, even though we were only teenagers, I wholeheartedly believed that you were going to be the one for me. I was certain that I had met my match and that was it. We were best friends, who also really fucking liked each other and everyone could see it. Even my mom said she wouldn’t be surprised if we stayed together.”

Tyler smiled softly, “I think your mom liked me more than you did at one point.”

“Trust me, she did,” I rolled my eyes. “But, I did love you with everything in me, Tyler. And, when you told me what happened, I felt like my entire world just collapsed. I always told myself that I would never be that girl that would give a guy the power to shake her world up like that, but to me, you weren’t just some guy. You were my best friend, someone that I had cried to hundreds of times with no shame. Someone who I could tell anything to and never feel judged. And that night, all of that went out the window.”

“I know,” Tyler nodded.

“I didn't think I was ever going to be able to look at you again,” I admitted. “But, my mom reminded me that we were friends first. And, I never thought that I would be able to say that you were one of my best friends again, but you are.”

“You’re my best friend,” He leaned over the table, his eyes staring into mine. “You always have been and I’m pretty sure you always will be if I have any say.”

“I know, Tyler.”

“I’m happy that we were able to be friends again, and still laugh and talk,” He said. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, just like you didn’t deserve what I did. But, I was stupid back then, I fucked up. I’m older now, and I cannot act like you’re not the person I want to be with. I want to try, Y/N, even if that means starting over completely. I love you, and I’ve never stopped. If you’ll let me, please, can I try?”

I searched his face for a few moments, and as someone who has seen Tyler speak directly from his heart, whether it be pleading his agent to work on clearing his name in the media or begging his sisters to come see him after a while, I could tell that he meant every word. But, that wasn’t enough.

“Did you love me when you were having sex with her?”

He paused, reaching up to scratch his beard, a mechanism he used when slightly uncomfortable. “I never stopped loving you, and I don’t know if that makes it worse or better, but it just is. It was a fucked up situation that I put us in, and as much as I wish I could give you clear answers to get us out of it, I can’t. And, I’ve been pissed at myself for the past 10 years for it.”

I downed the rest of my drink quickly, avoiding his eyes.

“I’ve been nothing but lucky to have you in my life after what happened,” Tyler reached over to squeeze my hand. “And, I know it’s stupid of me to risk that by bringing up old feelings, but I can’t just be your friend if there was ever a chance for something more.”

“So, what do you want to do, Tyler?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” He responded. “I lost the right to dictate anything the second I stepped out on you.”

“There’s always been the chance for something more,” I admitted. “I’ve grown. I’ve seen your growth. We were 17 back then and my feelings for you were real. I know that because I still feel them today.”

He smiled, “I like the sound of that.”

I rolled my eyes, “Relax yourself. You still have to prove to me that I can trust you. The jury is still out on that.”

“I will do everything,” He said. “I told you ten years ago that you were one of the most important people in my life, and that’s still true today.”

“You can start by driving me home because I need another drink.”

He smiled, waving over the waiter. “Anything you want.”

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stonecoldjerseyfox · 3 years

Text

Jersey on my mind (part 39)

“Okay, so… what’s the plan?” Mila looks at Daryl, while pulling the knitted cardigan over her shoulders. “You gonna interrogate him? Tie him up in a chair and go good cop bad cop on him?”

Daryl meets her eyes from the other side of the bed.

“What, ya’ don’t think he’s gonna have to answer some questions?” He asks, while searching the floor for his shirt.

The morning sun shines in through the windows in the bedroom and it looks like it’s gonna be another fine day.

Mila dozed off as soon as she laid down in bed next to Juri the night before; after she had a quick but violent shower to get rid of dirty gas station toilet-cooties, and didn’t wake up to Daryl coming to bed or to Jesus strolling into the house in the middle of the night. Baffled to say the least, Mila was therefore greatly surprised when she came out of the bedroom this morning, fifteen minutes prior around eight, and met Jesus who came out of the upstairs toilet.

“Good morning!” He said happily and disappeared down the stairs.

Mila, unable to speak, just gaped and waved back at him lazily, whereupon she closed the bedroom door again and turned to Daryl, who was in the process of turning his sleeveless shirt inside out.

“Am I still sleeping or did Jesus just walk out of the bathroom?”

“Prolly.” Daryl said with a shrug.

“Is he just-” Mila paused to find the right words, pointing at the closed bedroom door. “You know, walking around-”

“He escaped.”

“Oh.”

How he’d freed himself from the townhouse basement no one could figure out, and he didn’t tell them either; Mila was sure they’d captured a wizard.

“I don’t get why everything has to be so hostile.”

“Ya’ gonna teach me ‘bout hostile?” Daryl raises his eyebrows at her.

“Okay fine-” Mila sputters, knowing very well what he refers to. “But this guy isn’t like that- that weird wolf guy. This guy is Houdini-weird, not dangerous.”

“Are ya’ some sort of expert now?”

“Gut feeling.” Mila replies.

Daryl shakes his head at her words. Mila realizes that it doesn’t sound that convincing, but she gives him a steadfast look; she’s sure about her gut feeling. She looks at Daryl while he buttons the shirt. He must’ve taken a shower too before he went to bed. The brown hair looks tousled, as if he went to bed with it still damp. Her gaze wanders down to the unbuttoned, washed out jeans; he wears boxers underneath for once, something he probably started to do for the first time ever when he realized that there would be a snoring three and a half-year old in the bed too. Mila bites her lip as she rests her gaze at the edge of the boxers, right above his pelvic bone. Her sudden rush of desire, or blunt frantic horniness, is obviously visible, because Daryl frowns at her.

“Ain’t doin’ it in front of the kid.” He nods down at the bed, where Juri still lies asleep, bundled up in the sheets.

“We can put him on the bath rug in the bathroom.” Mila suggests half hearted. “It’s really soft. He’ll just think he’d sleepwalked.”

“Jersey-” Daryl walks around the bed and stops in front of her; softly he lets his fingers run down her hair, playing with it while contemplating under silence. “Fine.”

“About the rug or that you gonna go gently on him?”

“The latter.” Daryl mutters. “Dunno why you care-” He rests his cupped hand at her chin. “I won’t knock him, unless he’s being a-”

“Ap-ap, language.” Mila pulls his hand big to her mouth and gives his fingertips a featherlight kiss. “Thank you.” She places another kiss on his fingers. “I like you when you’re all soft and diplomatic.”

The slightly erotic gesture of tenderness is enough to turn the big man in front of her into water between her fingers. His breath becomes heavier, he exhales through his nostrils and the eyes become soft and the gaze deeper, lingering even.

“Uhu?”

“Mhm.” She leans in, places her head under his chin and kisses his collarbone, while fingering on the half buttoned shirt. “You know- I’m a good rider, like… really-”

A knock on the door drags them both back to reality.

“Son of a- what?” Daryl turns and looks at the door that opens slightly and Rick peeks into the bedroom. “Don’t ya’ fucking know how a door works either?!” Daryl mutters huskily.

On the other side of Daryl, Mila chokes a grin. Rick looks questioning, but says nothing about Daryl’s, to him, odd remark; of course he knows how a door works?

“We need to talk.” He just says.

He doesn’t even tell them about what; they already know. Reluctant, Daryl sighs and looks at her.

“Duty calls.” He says, while, discreetly, correcting the crotch on his jeans.

“Be gentle.” Mila winks.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Daryl leaves the bedroom and follows Rick; to talk to him and Michonne about what to do about the ‘situation’ walking around freely in the house. Mila sighs; so much for that ‘ride’. Not even a quiet quickie in the bathroom. She turns, combs her fingers through her hair and looks at Juri, lying on the bed with his back against her. The blonde hair looks like a bird’s nest, the only thing missing is a couple of spotted round eggs. What a fun job I have in front of me to untangle that bundle of mess, she thinks to herself and kneels down on the bed. Softly she strokes the boy over the back; the pyjamas are so warm and soft and he smells cosy, a warm, sleepy scent mixed with fabric softener.

“Prosypaysya, solnyshko.” She coos softly, tickles his warm neck. “Wake up, sunshine.”

Juri starts to move, softly pats his feet towards the covers and rolls over, to face her. He blinks, squints a little with his piercing blue eyes at her.

“It’s time to awake.” Mila says.

With the newly awakened boy in her arms, she then walks down to the kitchen, where she’s met by Jesus, sitting at the kitchen island.

“I’m not gonna ask how you got out.” Mila greets him and puts Juri down on the sofa, to awake at his own pace.

She doesn’t really believe in magic, but growing up in Russia, surrounded by ancient stories and with a grandmother who said she was a psychic and was convinced that she had seen both Baba Yaga and a vodnik, Mila’s quite versed in folklore; no sane Russian child disowned Baba Yaga.

“Slept well?” Jesus replies with a polite, even hearty smile.

Mila, still slightly bitter about the black eye and the cracked, aching lip he caused her, doesn’t answer at first; instead she puts a kettle with water on the stove and scoops up two abundant spoons of instant coffee in two mugs; the chances of her being in a better mood after she had some coffee is quite high. She needs that first sip of coffee to function. She throws a glance out of the window; where’s Carol? Her eyes are then drawn to a mint green tin can with a pattern of daisies around the brim. Smiling, Mila lifts the lid and peeks inside. Of course, Carol, she thinks with a smile. White chocolate chip cookies. She and Juri must have baked them the day before. She puts the lid back on and turns to the two cups with instant coffee. She awakes from her thoughts -mostly revolving around how unearthly tasty a really fucking strong, big salty caramel latte would be, instead of this sad, colored liquid that nowadays has to go under the name ‘coffee’- when she hears the water bubbling on the stove.

“I think the water’s done.”

Mila peers at Jesus.

“Yeah I got ears-” She replies surly. “And eyes.”

“Not a morning person?” He asks.

“I’m not super happy with you.” Mila peers at him as she pours the hot water into the cups and takes out two spoons from a drawer. “No offence, Houdini, but you gave me a black eye.” She hands him one of the cups and stirs around the coffee powder in the water. Not exactly a caramel latte with two extra shots, she thinks and sighs.

“Sorry about that.” Jesus says. “You’ve ever thought about a career in wrestling?”

“I'm good at running, shooting and drinking-” Mila takes a sip of the blant coffee. “I haven’t got the muscles.”

“I’d say the opposite.” Jesus drinks and makes a grimace; there’s a pretty valid reason why everyone says no when she offers them coffee. According to everyone in Alexandria it’s like drinking tar. “At least you got the spirit.”

“Okay-” Mila sighs. “How did you get out?”

“Magic.” The man in front of her smiles.

Over at the couch, Juri has finally awakened fully. He climbs down and hurries over to the kitchen and demands to be held; awake or not, he’s always in desperate need to be close by, just in case he needs a cuddle. Mila lifts him from the floor and puts him down on the counter.

“Ready for breakfast?” She asks and Juri nods eagerly. “Let me just finnish my coffee.” Mila looks at Jesus. “You can’t possibly be named Jesus.” She asks and raises her eyebrow at him. “I mean, I get why-” She nods towards his face, the beard and the long hair. “But-”

“Paul.” He smiles, a genuinely kind smile, and offers her his hand over the kitchen island. “Paul Rovia.”

Mila looks at it, before taking it and giving it a firm shake; like a car dealer who’s just managed to sell a poor fellow an overpriced car.

“Mila.” She replies and nods at Juri. “My son, Juri.”

With a bright smile Juri waves at Paul from where he sits on the kitchen counter in his pyjamas; Paul’s face bursts into a happy grin. Juri’s sunny demeanor usually has that effect on people.

“Any last name?” He then asks. “Just- you know. Formality.”

“Sergeyevna.” Mila says, takes the tin jar from the other counter, opens it and offers him a cookie; there, now they have put down the hatchet. “So, what should I call you? Sorry, but Jesus-” She grimaces and shakes her head. “Feels odd.”

“Paul’s fine.” He smiles as he takes a cookie and once again looks at Juri. “You’re a lil’ charmer, aren’t you?”

Juri nods and makes the ‘I know that’ sign with his hand, which makes Mila grin. Of course he knows he is, she thinks and takes out the big pack of Quaker oats from a cabinet. She pours the oats at random into a pot, covers them with water and puts the pot on the stove. It will be enough for both her and Juri. She looks up from the pot just in time to see Juri’s small hand being pulled away from the tin jar.

“No.” Mila says, takes the jar and puts it back on the other counter. “You get a cookie after you have breakfast.”

Juri nods reluctantly, then gestures ‘okay’.

“He’s mute?” She hears Paul ask behind her.

“He is.” Mila turns around in search of the salt. “Don’t need a voice to be the most charming rascal in the apocalypse though.” She smiles at Juri and winks.

“Is he the father?” Paul asks. “You know- the big guy?”

“Daryl?” Mila shakes her head as her eyes land on the pack of salt. “No, I don’t know who Juri’s father is.” She shrugs a little. “A happy accident.” She pauses and puts a pinch of salt into the pot. “Daryl’s-”

Yeah, what exactly is Daryl? Mila doesn’t have to think for long. Juri tugs at Paul’s coat sleeve and places his thumb against his forehead, with his fingers outstretched.

“Have you told Daryl?” Mila smiles at Juri while she opens a drawer and takes out a wooden spoon to stir the oats.

Before Paul can ask what Juri meant by his gesturing, the front door opens and Glenn, Maggie and Abraham enter. Mila greets them with a ‘morning’ and Juri waves frantically at everyone. From the stairs, Rick, Michonne, Daryl and Carl appear.

“Nice talking to you.” Paul winks at her, gets off the bar stool and walks over to the dining table, where they all sit down, looking at Paul.

Mila turns her attention back to her and Juri’s breakfast in the pot. Juri stirs the wooden spoon as she gets honey out of another cupboard and the home made oat milk from the fridge. She listens with half an ear to the conversation at the table while she portions the steaming oatmeal into bowls, puts a spoonful of creamy honey on top and then puts the oat milk over it. She places Juri at the counter next to the window, he likes to look out at the trees and the birds, and then starts to feed him; one spoon for Juri, then one spoon for her. He doesn’t need to hear the grown-up talk and Mila’s too tired to care, well, except for when Rick asks Paul how he got out.

“One guard can't cover two exits, or third floor windows. Knots untie and locks get picked.” Paul replies. “Entropy comes from order, right?”

Mila grins to herself while taking another spoon; it hurts to chew. Apparently he trudged around a lot during the night, peeking at their arsenal, their storage. Juri eats with a big appetite and has soon finished his breakfast.

“Bravo.” Mila praises and scrapes the last of her oats from her bowl. “How about-” She puts the bowls into the sink and turns back to Juri. “You and I hang out today, all day? I need to repay you for not bringing back those marshmallows.”

Excited beyond measure, Juri starts to clap his small hands, which causes the group at the table to pause and turn to look at them. Mila puts her hands around Juri’s and hushes softly, resting her forehead against his.

“It’s a date.” She whispers and gives Juri a kiss on the nose. “Now- hurry upstairs, pick some clothes and pour a bath, I’ll join you in a minute.”

Smiling brighter than a sky full of stars, Juri scurries over the hardwood floors and starts to climb up the stairs while the group around the table gets up. Glenn, Maggie and Abraham leave, Abe gives her a cheeky wink and a ‘lookin’ sharp, lady’, probably referring to her ravaged face. Daryl gives the big, red haired guy’s back a squinting, dark gaze as he disappears out the door. For some reason she feels flattered about the ‘Dixon jealousy’ today; maybe because she feels anything but appealing. A confidence boost.

“So?” Mila asks. “What’s been said?”

“He says he’s part of a community.” Daryl replies, referring to Paul. “Raises livestock and crops.”

“Okay. And?”

“His job’s to find other communities to trade with.”

“That’s it?” Mila asks, slightly disappointed; given his Ninja-skills she’d at least thought he was part of a special force or something. “Okay. What’d you say then? We don’t have anything to trade?”

He thinks we may be in a position to help each other. They got livestock. Grows things.” Daryl pauses. “We’re gonna go back with him. To his community. Hilltop. See if he’s tellin’ the truth. If he does, we’ll see what they’ve got to offer. He also said they’re trading with other groups.”

Mila raises her eyebrows.

“They have contact with other communities?”

“At least that’s what he claims.”

“You think he’s lying?”

Daryl shrugs; apparently he doesn’t know what he thinks about it. On one hand; another community is something they, he and Rick, have talked about for a while. There had to be more people like them out there, other communities with survivors, they knew it. They had expected, or hoped, to be the ones who discovered the other group, not the other way around. The tables have turned and now they’re vigilant. Even though he doesn’t say anything, Mila sees exactly what he’s thinking. The thought has struck her as well. What if Paul Rovia belongs to the group they saw looting the arms deal?

“Does ya’ gut feeling say something ‘bout that?” Daryl asks with a wryly, barely noticeable smile upon his lips - sometimes it seems like they really can read each other’s minds.

“Shut it.” Mila shoves him softly. “No. No, he might fit in at that Harry Potter-school though. How else did he get out of the basement than by magic? I’m not convinced what he said before was the truth.”

“Magic ain’t real, Jersey.”

“At this point, I’m ready to believe it is. Living dead walking around, magic-” Mila shivers throughout her body; it’s as if her dead grandmother was in the room, taunting her for not believing in her wacko stories about trolls and other foul creatures. “You leaving soon?”

“As soon as possible.”

She nods.

“Ya’ coming?”

“I’ll pass.” Mila replies. She’s had it with adventures that, more often recently, ends with her getting bruises for a few days. Besides, she wants to spend the day with Juri. “Carol and I hold the positions here.”

“Good.” Daryl lightly strokes her arm. “Where’s she by the way?”

“Out, I believe.” Mila smiles. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

“I ain’t.”

“Worried or cute?” She gets a light buff in reply to her cheeky question. “Carol’s fine on her own.” Mila ensures her big, worried archer. “Are you going to prepare for the trip?”

“Nah, I’m ready.”

Mila smiles faintly. Had she been Daryl, she would probably at least have changed her shirt to one with sleeves. He notices her smile, frowns a little.

“What?”

“I like that shirt.”

“Ya’ flirting now?”

“Yeah.” Mila nods. “Might be because of the concussion.”

“Ya’ didn’t have one last night.” Daryl says doubtfully.

“No, you’re right. But I am actually flirting with you.”

With an entertaining, barely visible, smile, Daryl takes her chin between his thumb and forefinger; a gesture that says more than he does verbally.

“Jersey-”

Mila sighs; she may well suppress the tingling in her body for a few more hours.

“Fine.” Mila pushes Daryl towards the door. “Off you go. Discover new civilizations, Dr. Dixon.” She proclaims theatrically.

In response, she gets a teasing middle finger over the broad shoulder, before Daryl disappears out the front door. Mila turns just as Rick scurries down from the upper floor, holding Judith in his arms.

“You’re stayin’ behind?” He asks.

Mila holds out her arms; as if to show that her outfit says the most about the matter.

“Okay.” Rick nods. “Good.” He’s just about to say something, but Mila interrupts him:

“I’ll watch Carl too. Promise.”

“I think he’s sneakin’ out.” Rick says, while letting Judith chew on his finger. “He and Enid-”

“-Are teenagers.” Mila shrugs while putting the two coffee cups into the sink. “Be glad Carl’s not doing the shit I did when I was a teen.” She walks around the kitchen island and gives Rick an encouraging pat on the arm. “We’ll be alright.” She smiles overly excited at Judith. “Yes we aaare!”

As Rick closes the front door, Michonne comes down the stairs. As soon as their eyes meet, Mila grins broadly; her missing Jesus trotting into the house in the middle of the night was nothing compared to the disappointment she felt when she learned that he had stormed into Rick’s bedroom, only to discover that Rick and Michonne were lying naked in bed. Michonne raises a warning finger at her.

“Don’t-” She alerts. “Not a word.”

“Ohh I have a lot of words I want to say about it.” Mila chuckles. “How about; finally!”

Michonne says nothing, just smiles. As if Mila didn’t realize before that there was ‘something’ going on. They don’t have time to say anything else on the matter; they are interrupted by Paul, who emerges from the toilet.

“Ready?” Michonne asks him.

“Yup.” Paul looks over at Mila. “Hey- I’m really sorry about the blackeye.” He looks sincerely sorry. “We friends?”

“Hm, fine.” Mila gives him a sharp gaze. “But I want my grumpy archer back. So no funny business while you’re gone. Then we’re friends.”

Paul nods gravely; hopefully, he doesn’t dare to pull any ugly tricks after yesterday’s haywire ride. In addition, Mila offered him both coffee and cake earlier, so he owes her. She follows them out of the house, still wearing her sleepwear; yoga pants, t-shirt and the knitted cardigan, to the motorhome. Maggie stands by and watches the motorhome. The young woman looks worried, deep into her own thoughts.

“See it as a honeymoon.” Mila suggests with a smile at Maggie as she approaches. “Minus the fancy hotel, the rose petals...” She continues jokingly, in an attempt to cheer her up.

Maggie smiles a little, but there’s obviously something on her mind.

“Things don’t really go by the book ‘round here.” She replies. “I’m scared, Mila.” The green eyes look worried. “The crops, the baby, other people-” She sighs. Apparently she’s been pondering a lot lately.

“Hey-” Mila grabs Maggie by the hand. “Stop it. We all got days when everything feels like shit.” And those days you spend in bed getting jagged, Mila thinks to herself; that’s at least what she does. “But it’s gonna be alright.” She smiles. “We have made it this far. You’ve made it this far. See it as an- an adventure. And tomorrow is another day.”

Although Mila herself finds it difficult to absorb her own clichéd words, they seem to instill hope in Maggie; somehow Mila thinks that booze works better in her case.

“Wow, where did the motivational speaker come from?” Maggie smiles, squeezes her hand warmly. “Thanks.” She looks down on her bump. “You know I’ll need all the help I can possibly get when this one pops out, right?”

“Yeah I know.” Mila replies. “But we’re not there yet, thankfully.” She winks. “I have to sober up until then. Well, off you go, adventurer.”

They part, Maggie walks over to Glenn and they get inside the motorhome. Daryl shuts the small hood and brushes off oil from his hands on his jeans. Mila wraps her cardigan tighter around her; she’s still in her tank top and yoga pants, standing bare feet on the hard asphalt.

“Ya’ sure you’ll be alright?” Daryl asks.

“I’ll be fine.” Mila ensures. Honestly, she thinks, there’s not much that can go wrong when hanging out with a three and a half-year old. “Be careful.” She says and places a quick kiss on his lips. “Don’t punch people.”

Daryl gruffs in reply.

“Let’s chew up some asphalt!” Abraham hollers behind him.

“See ya’.” Daryl places a quick kiss on her mouth, before getting into the motorhome and shutting the door.

Mila and Carl, holding Judith in his arms, watch as the engine of the motorhome starts and it rolls away along the road, before disappearing.

“Do you think it's safe?” Carl looks at her. “This other place?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Mila replies, while letting Judith grab on to her fingers and play with them. “But I hope so.” She meets Carl’s eyes, smiles and caresses his thick, brown hair. “Come on, let’s get inside. Juri’s having a bath-” Mila smiles at the girl on Carl’s arm. “You wanna bath too?”

Happily, Judith giggles; no sane toddler says no to a bath with rubber duckies and lots of bubbles.

It turns into a peaceful, playful morning. Juri and Judith bathe for probably an hour under Mila’s supervision; over and over she has to push the floating rubber ducks under the water, for them to jump out of the water again. Judith laughs to the point of her getting hiccups. With one toddler on each arm, drenched in bath water from head to toe, Mila carries them both downstairs.

“Ah, great!” She exclaims just as Carl and Enid walk into the house. “Keep an eye on these two as I get dressed, will you?”

Mila disappears up the stairs before she gets an answer. In the bedroom she removes her wet clothes and drops them on the bathroom floor. She quickly puts on a pair of jeans, glances at the long scar that runs along her stomach, before hiding it with a t-shirt. At least that’s easier to hide than the blackeye. She puts on a pair of socks, sticks her feet into a pair of Birkenstocks and hurries back downstairs. Carl and Enid sit on the carpet in the living room with Judith, still wrapped up in a lilac towel with flowers, while Juri runs around, naked, wearing his towel as a cape.

“Come here you!” Mila sweeps the naked toddler from the floor. “What have I said about being naked Batman?”

Silently giggling, Juri tells her that she’s wrong; he’s not Batman, he’s Spiderman.

“Well, first of all, Spidey doesn’t have a cape-” Mila presses her mouth into his soft belly and makes a loud farting noise, while Juri cries with laughter, silently. “Secondly-” Mila says, while lifting her head. “We gotta find you some clothes.”

“There’s some folded stuff in the laundry room.” Carl gets up from the floor and takes Judith in his arms.

They help out to sort the folded laundry while finding clothes for the toddlers. Mila’s heart swells when she observes Carl with Judith; he’s so much more grown up, so wise and kind, than she ever would have been able to at that age. He dresses Judith, who sits still on top of the washer and calmly lets herself get dressed. Juri on the other hand is in a rowdy mood. Carol returns, stained with blood, in time to see Mila chasing a laughing Juri, dressed in underwear, socks and shirt, around the ground floor; she carries a bucket in her hand, filled with acorns. She catches Juri with her free arm, like a hook, and hands him over to Mila, who can finally put him in a pair of trousers.

“Thanks.” Mila sighs and brushes her hair out of her face when she has closed the button in the small pair of jeans. “I hope he’s not this cheeky when he’s with you.” She looks at the acorns while Carol assures her that Juri’s usually very angelic when they hang out together; it’s probably just an extra exciting day. Mila nods towards the bucket. “What are the, the-” The english word seems to have disappeared from her vocabulary. “those for?”

Carol looks down at the bucket.

“You’d be surprised what you could do with acorns.” She smiles, mysteriously.

“And the blood?”

“An unpleasant surprise.”

“Ah.” Mila nods understanding; a walker. “The others left a while ago.”

While Carol puts the bucket down in the kitchen, Mila tells her about Paul Rovia and the others, Rick, Michonne, Abraham, Daryl, Glenn and Maggie, leaving with him to go to Hilltop. Carol receives the news with calm, a trait Mila loves about her; by now not much seems to surprise her. As Carol disappears to take a shower and change clothes, Juri wonders what they should do first during their extra special fun-day. Mila suggests crafting; Juri loved crafting when he went to daycare and always brought home necklaces, drawings and scrapbooking cards to her. When she was looking for new sheets in the house that belonged to Jessie one day, she found a whole lot of craft materials in a cupboard; Jessie wouldn't need it anymore, so Mila took it.

They spread the material over the dining table, Mila picks out Capri Sun as snacks and starts to make beaded necklaces and bracelets while Carol returns back after a while, and starts to bake more cookies with the acorns. Deeply concentrated, Juri methodically places pearl after pearl on the small wire, with his tongue between his teeth. He makes necklaces and bracelets for his ‘big brother’ Carl, ‘auntie Carol’, Mila gets a necklace and for Daryl Juri makes a bracelet and a little pendant to hang on his crossbow.

“That will be very nice.” Carol assures as Juri holds up the pendant for her to see, made with beads in all sorts of shapes and colors. “Daryl will be very happy.” She smiles. “I will wear my necklace every day from now on, sweetie.”

While the cookies are in the oven, Carol quickly sweeps up a vegetable soup for lunch. Just in time for lunch, Aaron pops in and joins Mila, Juri, Carol and Judith around the table to eat. Mila sits in-between Juri and Judith and has a full time job making sure Judith doesn't play with her food and tells Juri to stop making another bracelet, this time for Aaron.

“You can finish it after lunch.” Mila says, for the fourth time, before Juri listens, but by then he’s already done and stretches over the table to hand Aaron the bracelet.

“Thank you.” Aaron looks tenderly at the bracelet. “The nicest gift I’ve ever received.” His genuine expression of gratitude makes Juri blush behind his second package of Capri Sun. “I’d love to have kids on my own.” Aaron looks at Juri with glistening eyes. “They’re amazing.” He sighs. “But these times-” He shakes his head.

“You can borrow mine whenever you’d like.” Mila suggests while scooping up the soup in her spoon, pouring it down her still aching mouth. “Besides, you’re already uncle Aaron.”

Juri nods at Aaron at the other side of the table; he’s got a lot of uncles and aunts all of a sudden. But only one big brother, he assures them through his gestures.

“Yeah, there’s only one Carl.” Mila agrees.

Juri points at Judith.

“And only one Judith.” Mila nods. “And since you’re older than Judith, you get to show how to behave at the dining table. Like, you’re not supposed to make bracelets while eating.”

After lunch, Aaron thanks Carol for the lunch and heads off to the construction site, Carol clears the table from bowls and spoons and leaves to go and hand out the still steaming warm cookies to the Alexandria residents. Mila takes on the mission to put Judith to sleep, while Juri finishes off his second portion of vegetable soup at the table, now fully occupied with his walkman. It’s apparently completely impossible to sit and eat without amusement; on the one hand, Mila understands him. She herself likes to have a book or a newspaper with her at the dining table. Before the outbreak, when they lived in Brooklyn, she loved to eat in front of the TV when she was alone; channel surfing until she found a channel with a program about 'tanks in the first world war', 'ancient sharks eating ships' or 'grown men running around in the dark looking for ghosts'.

Softly Mila sings the girl to sleep while stroking the soft, light brown hair. She sings a Russian lullaby from her childhood, the one her mother used to sing to her when she’d had a nightmare; a heartbreaking song about a dying child. In hindsight, Mila’s surprised she could even fall asleep at all after hearing that song, but the way her mother sang it as they lied next to each other in Mila’s bed, was like being swept in a blanket of protection, a safe embrace from the bad dreams. Then it didn’t matter that Vanya died and was buried the next day. Mila softly strokes the now sleeping girl over her cheek, smiles and leaves the room.

“Wow, two whole rounds of soup!” Mila exclaims, as she returns to the dining room and Juri, proud beyond measures, shows her two short, tubby fingers. “Bozhe moy, I gotta find you new clothes soon, you’ll grow like a sprout-” She says as she helps him down from the chair. “So, nap or no nap?”

Juri shakes his head; no nap today. Instead he points at the kitchen island, where Carol’s left a couple of cookies on a plate. With the big cookie in a firm grip, Juri announces that he wants to have a dance party. He’s high on sugar from the Capri Sun and needs to let off some steam, pronto! Said and done, Mila runs upstairs, again, collects their dear collection of cassette tapes, runs downstairs and puts a cassette in the stereo in the living room. Having small children is a single gym workout; never a quiet moment. Juri wastes no time and starts to jump around to Van Halen’s “Dance the night away” with the cookie in his hand. Her heart overflows with love as Mila, smiling, watches as the little person moves around on the carpet, making his sporadic, spontaneous moves to the music. Sometimes he takes a bite out of the cookie.

Carl and Enid return just in time to see Juri make a pirouette to “Mr. Blue Sky”.

“Hey, great moves, dude!” Carl greets him.

They sit down on the couch and watch Juri dance, while Mila sorts the crafting supplies; she has a feeling they’re done making bracelets by now. Activities shift quickly when you’re a child and as a mother, Mila is left to clean up. But when “Dance in the dark” comes on she can’t refrain from wanting to dance; yeez Louise, she loves this song. She lets herself be dragged out on the living room carpet by Juri and shakes her head, making her hair dance.

“Dance with us Carl!” Mila pants mid air. “You too, Enid!”

Slightly frightened by the invitation, Enid shakes her head so the brown hair swings around her face. Carl on the other hand rises from the couch, widely smiling, and starts to dance with them. It’s fun, liberating; just dancing around, jumping, making silly moves, while singing their hearts out.

“Come on!” Carl grabs Enid by the hands and pulls her up on the floor. “Don’t be such a bummer. Let loose!”

“I-” Enid looks anything but pumped.

“Live a little!” Mila encourages; she herself feels very much alive at least. Her heart is pounding and the pulse is at ‘moderately working’. It’s actually quite exhausting to dance. She’s a little impressed that she used to go to parties and dance almost every weekend back in university - in heels, moreover. She looks down at her socks and Birkenstocks.

When the song fades out and the intro to KC & The Sunshine Band’s “Give it up” they hear a soft thud from the upper floor; Judith must’ve thrown her plushie on the floor.

“I’ll go get her.” Mila says. She lets Carl and Enid continue to dance with Juri, and runs up and gets the now awake, well rested little girl. With Judith locked on her hip she walks downstairs again. Judith points at Carl and starts to wiggle her arms, spits out the pacifier and starts to babble.

“You wanna dance too?” Mila asks, while bouncing Judith on her hip. “Come on, let’s dance.”

With a squealing Judith in her arms Mila sways to the music, hops around and swings the girl around the air. But Judith doesn’t get Mila’s full attention for long; Juri, unaccustomed to competition, soon wants her attention, he also wants to dance in her arms. With Judith on one arm and Juri on the other she moves over the carpet, while the two toddlers laugh excitedly by her, a grown up, acting incredibly funny.

Carol returns from her walk around the community in the middle of the chorus to [song], when Enid has returned to the couch and Carl makes an impressive attempt at a moonwalk.

“I disappear for a moment and poof; I come back to a disco.” She laughs.

“Gotta raise the roof around here.” Mila pants and twirls around with the two toddlers locked at her hips. “Right, malysh?” She gets support from Juri, who strikes a disco finger for Carol to marvel at. “But I would actually need a break now.”

The break is accompanied by “Twistin’ the night away” and more Capri Sun, taken on the couch. Carl playfully fans Judith with the wide-brimmed hat and Mila twists her hair in a sloppy ponytail and curses her poor cardio; it’s gotten pretty bad all of a sudden. That uncomfortable nausea she’s felt on and off the last week begins to creep in and she trembles at what Juri wants to do next. “Ya izmozhden.” Mila says when Juri tells her, with sugar rushed excitement, that he wants to dance more. “I’m exhausted. Mummy’s old.”

As if Juri was going to buy that excuse. He answers her firmly that she’s not old, but that they can go out and draw with the street crayons instead. Mila throws a glance out the window. It’s sunny, looks warm. “Fine.” She replies. “Let’s go, Picasso.”

While sitting on the hot asphalt, drawing with the chunky, chalky crayons Mila’s struck by a feeling she hasn’t felt in a long time; it all feels almost as before the virus. It’s been a very normal day. Just as when Mila had her day’s off from work. On those day’s Juri didn’t go to daycare; instead they did all sorts of fun stuff. They went to the park and occupied the swing sets until some irritated mother asked Mila if she would mind sharing with the other children. On the days Jim had a day off as well they went to coffee shops, had coffee and juice and tried different pastries and cookies. Other days they stayed at home playing, or Mila invited her friends (none of them had children of their own) over for lunch and to watch a day-movie with her and Juri.

Soon Mila puts down her pastel blue crayon and lies down on the warm asphalt, while Juri continues with his masterpiece; this time a zoo with green tigers and yellow monkeys.

“Right now, life’s pretty nice, right?” She exhales and closes her eyes. In the distance she heard the light, barely noticeable, breeze sweeping through the nearby trees. A gentle, soothing sound that mixes up with the faint sound from the walkman, lying on the ground next to Juri. “Pretty, damn nice.”

#jersey on my mind #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl x oc #daryl dixon x oc #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fandom #the walking dead fanficition #the walking dead daryl #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic

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freddiesaysalright · 4 years

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Just Like a Woman - Part 11

A Roger Taylor x Reader Story

Summary: You and Roger were once in love when you were young. Only, he went on to be a rock star, and you went on to be a lawyer. Now, quite against your will, you’re representing him in his divorce.

Word Count: 3.3k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @moon-stars-soul, @im-an-adult-ish, @ixchel-9275, @jennyggggrrr, @zyanmaik, @mypassionfortrash, @a19103, @madeinheavxn, @beepbeephardy, @rrogerchxrm, @qweenly, @blisshemmings, @seasidecrowbar, @internationalkpoplova, @ellystone, @takemetoneverland420, @coffeexcigarette, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @thatpunkmaximoff, @angelkissys, @rocknroll-stolemyass, @simonedk, @anotheronewritesthedust1, @peterquillzblog, @mrfahrenhcit, @joseph-mozzerella, @theprettyandthereckless, @nixfreak, @johndeaconshands, @rogerandhiscar, @queenmaracasandlove, @sunflower-ben, @cubetriangle, @amy-brooklyn99, @scorpiogemini, @kiainspace, @itsabenthing, @bookandband, @makemeyourwife-loveofmylife, @grazessa, @borhapqueen92, @theonsasheart, @vektorivittu, @chanti-frn, @brianssixpence, @dancingcoolcat, @xviiarez, @irepookie, @lnnuend0, @rogerxmeddows, @vici-xx, @bellas2silly If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! Just to clarify because of the way it ends, but there is still more to this story! It’s not over yet!

Warning(s): Brief description of violence that we’ve already heard

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 here we go!!!

You walked into work the next day, whistling to yourself. Roger had to stop by his house and change before he would be there to go with you all to the courthouse for the last bit of the trial. Jane smirked at you.

“Good night?” she asked.

“Excellent, Jane, thanks for asking,” you replied, snatching your messages out of her hand, but still smiling.

She shook her head and chuckled as you closed the door to your office. Just as it shut, you heard a high-pitched, child-like giggle. You whipped around, scanning your office for the source of the noise, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. You shrugged it off. It was probably just something from the main part of the office and you were too busy to think any more of it.

You gathered your things and headed for the conference room, humming now instead of whistling. Dominique smiled at you.

“You look great today, Y/N,” she said.

“Thank you, I feel great!” you replied brightly.

“Y/N,” Bill said as he and Roger entered the room. “You’re in a much better mood today.” He turned to Roger. “Well done, mate.”

Roger smiled. “Thanks, man.”

They shook hands.

You finally frowned. “Could you two not be gross?”

Dominique laughed. Bill took a seat beside her as Roger kissed your cheek in greeting. Bill decided to share the first draft of his closing. He would edit it more later after the trial depending on any new information that arose. You all approved of it, and then, you were off to court.

After the previous day, you were a bit nervous. Glen would be able to call more witnesses, and you were not prepared for any more surprises. Luckily, there didn’t appear to be any.

Glen stood up and called Nick to the stand. Dominique shrunk a little as she watched him walk up and take his oath before sitting down. Bill took her hand.

“Mr. Sully, tell us your account of the evening you and Ms. Beyrand went on your date,” Glen said.

“Well, it’s like she told you, we met at the bar, flirted, and then arranged to meet again,” Nick began. “I thought it was going well. Then she tells me she’s ready to go home, but I’ve been buying her drinks, and I think she’s telling me she’s ready to go home with me. So I offer to drive and we get in the car. I saw in her eyes that she wanted me to make a move, so I went for it. All of a sudden, she’s offended, and she hits me. I hit her back - I’m not proud of it - but she was so enraged, I feared for my own safety. There was a struggle and then I kicked her out of my car. If something happened to her after that, it’s not on me.”

“How do you account for your blood and hairs being on her dress?” Glen asked.

“It probably happened during the struggle,” Nick answered. “I’m not denying there was a confrontation.”

“Why do you think she’d identify you as her attacker if someone else put her in hospital?” Glen continued.

“I don’t really know, she was probably angry at me for how it went and saw it as an opportunity to get back at me,” Nick said.

“So you would describe Ms. Beyrand as vindictive?” Glen went on.

“Objection,” Bill called out.

“Sustained,” Judge Walsh agreed. “Counsel, keep your questions to what happened.”

“Of course, your honor,” Glen conceded. “As it happens, I have no further questions.”

He returned to his seat. Bill leaned over to you.

“You got this?” he whispered.

“I got this,” you shot back, standing up.

You strode over to the witness stand.

“Mr. Sully, how much can you bench press?” you asked.

“Objection!” Glen cried. “Relevance!”

“Counsel,” Judge Walsh said to you. “Are you going somewhere with this?”

“I am, your honor, you’ll see,” you said.

“Overruled,” he said to Glen. Then he looked at you. “Don’t take too long.”

You nodded, then turned your attention back to Nick. “So? How much?”

He looked you up and down, a cocksure smirk on his lips. “About two of you.”

“I see,” you said with a grin. “And you’re a professional kickboxer, right?”

“I am,” he told you, straightening up a little taller.

“Think you could take on your lawyer?” you asked. “He’s a pretty big guy. Fit. Strong.”

“Oh, yeah, he’d be no problem,” he replied.

“And what about my co-counsel?” you asked. “He’s about your size.”

“Also no problem,” he said confidently, glancing at Bill. “It’s easy when you’re up against someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

You heard Glen let out a quiet groan from behind you. You bit back a smirk.

“And you expect them,” you pointed to the jury. “To believe that you feared for your safety because of that little woman?” You pointed to Dominique.

Nick realized his mistake and the color drained from his face.

“I - well - hold on - it wasn’t -”

“Don’t bother answering, Mr. Sully, that last one was rhetorical,” you said. “No further questions.”

You turned on your heel to head back to your seat, but froze. In the aisle, between the rows of observers, stood a little boy. He was the spitting image of Roger, only with one distinction. He had your eyes. In your heart, you knew him. Only, you weren’t sure how you knew him. You stared at him, and he grinned back.

“Miss Y/L/N?” Judge Walsh’s voice took you out of your trance and the little boy vanished. “Miss Y/L/N, are you alright?”

You shook your head to clear it. You went to your seat and looked at him.

“Yes, your honor, I’m fine,” you replied, cheeks reddening as you felt the whole courtroom’s eyes on you. “Just...I thought I saw someone.”

His expression showed just how much he was questioning your sanity. The defense had no other witnesses to call, so you were released for a fifteen minute recess. You retired to the same chambers you had the day before.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Roger asked. “What happened in there?”

You found yourself embarrassed to say. You didn’t want to seem crazy. But you were also with people you trusted.

“None of you saw the little boy?” you asked, looking at each of them.

“What little boy?” Dominique wondered.

“The boy!” you insisted. “He stood right in the aisle. He just stood there and then he...he…” you trailed off.

“He what?” Bill pressed.

“He vanished,” you admitted.

“Are you hallucinating?” he wondered.

“I - well - maybe!” you cried. “I dunno! But I saw him!”

“Okay, we don’t really have time to unpack this,” Dominique said. “Bill, are there any changes you’d like to make to your closing?”

He started describing what he wanted add, but you didn’t hear it. Roger’s eyes were trained on you. He was concerned, but you didn’t notice him either. You couldn’t stop thinking about that boy. Then you remembered the laugh you heard in your office. Were you going insane?

You shook your head again and focused on Bill. Before you knew it, it was time to return. Glen did his closing first.

“What you’re looking at here is a classic case of he said she said,” he began. “No one is denying that a physical altercation took place between Ms. Beyrand and Mr. Sully. What is in question is how much damage Mr. Sully actually inflicted. Did Mr. Sully strike her? Yes. But in defense of himself. Are we really so old fashioned that we believe a man can’t be abused by a woman? That a man can’t fear what a woman might do to him? Let’s not hold Ms. Beyrand to a double standard which only puts men at risk. She led him on, there was a misunderstanding, and that’s what happened. If someone else attacked Ms. Beyrand after her altercation with my client, then that’s somebody else’s business. But what you all need to understand is this: Mr. Sully defended himself from a person who was attacking him. And if you imprison him for it, we are heading down a very slippery slope.”

With that, he went to his seat. Bill got to his feet and walked over to the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen, say it with me,” he began.

“Please,” the jury echoed back to him.

“Counsel!” Judge Walsh scolded. “The jury is to listen, not interact.”

“Certainly,” Bill agreed. He turned back to them. “The facts of this case are simple. You heard them from the doctors, the police officers, and from the victim herself. You saw the photos. The impression of the car door against her scalp. It’s not a case of he said she said because what she said is backed by evidence. All of which points to Mr. Sully violently assaulting Ms. Beyrand because she refused to have sex with him. As a society, we like to say that women have the right to say no. But they don’t, do they? Because look at what happens when they do. Dominique Beyrand was nearly killed for it. Thousands of women every year are not as fortunate to be able to take a shot at justice. And that’s what we’re looking for here. You have the facts before you. We’ve presented them clear as crystal. Now, it’s your turn to deliver justice. Not just for Dominique Beyrand. But for your mothers, sisters, and daughters. For every woman - every person, even - who has a right to say who puts their hands on their bodies. Justice. That’s all we’re asking for.”

With that, it was over. The jury went to deliberate.

“This could be a while, right?” Dominique asked as you headed out to the lobby.

“Yeah, it could be a few hours,” you told her. “But if they’re sensible, it shouldn’t take more than a couple hours.”

“Well, Roger and I wanted to thank you for all you two have done,” she replied. “By having you over for dinner.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you said, touched. “It’s our job, and we’re glad to help you.”

“I know, but we appreciate it,” she said.

“Plus, we have an ulterior motive,” Roger added. “We’ve got to decorate the house for Christmas, and we could use the extra hands.”

It hit you suddenly that it was December. Christmas was in just a few weeks. You had been so busy with this case and your own thoughts that you’d forgotten.

“It would mean a lot to us,” Dominique said. “And to the kids.”

You and Bill looked at each other and nodded.

“We’ll come,” you said.

Verity was thrilled to see everyone when you arrived at Roger’s house. Roger told her you were all going to decorate, and she agreed to help. So, she got the children.

Felix was excited to see you again and he quickly warmed up to Bill. Rory was entirely a mommy’s girl. Even though she could teeter around, she got fussy if she wasn’t in Dominique’s arms. You had never seen Bill look so soft as he watched Dominique with her daughter.

You all worked together to unpack the decorations and begin hanging them. They didn’t have a tree yet, but Roger assured you they would get one in another week. That way it would stay fresh. Dominique put on a Bing Crosby Christmas record and you all got to work. You were putting the stockings on the mantle when Roger approached you.

“Did you really see a little boy in the courtroom today?” he asked. “He looked real?”

“Yeah,” you said somberly. “It’s got me a bit frightened. He looked so solid. Very real.”

“But he vanished?” he questioned.

You nodded. “He did.”

“What did he look like?” he wondered.

“Quite a bit like you, actually,” you told him. “I dunno, maybe I’m cracking up after everything we’ve been going through.”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest.”

You smiled at each other and finished the stockings. He helped you string lights around the garland and then place it on the mantle as well. Dom had a collection of Father Christmases that she put along the beam to keep the garland in place. It looked beautiful.

Then you and Roger helped hang wreaths. Felix wanted to help so Roger hoisted him onto his shoulders. The boy giggled with delight. The sound made you stiffen. It was so like the laugh you heard in your office that morning.

“Y/N?” Roger asked, looking curiously at you. “You alright?”

You nodded, clearing your throat. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just anxious about this verdict.”

“Don’t worry too much,” he said. “Whatever happens now isn’t in your control.”

You nodded again, and he handed Felix a ribbon to tie around the wreath. You jumped in and showed Felix how to tie a pretty bow, then let him try it on his own. It was sloppy, but you left it to show you were proud of him.

“Look, Mum, I made a bow!” he called to Dominique.

“And what a beautiful bow it is, darling!” she praised, beaming at him.

“Well, done, Felix!” Roger added.

You high fived him as well and he looked most pleased with himself.

Decorating was a welcome distraction from your worries. In a way, it felt like you were celebrating that you all had done this in the first place. You made it to trial, you tried an excellent case, and whatever way the jury decided, you were happy to have done your part for Dominique. She was glowing as she looked around at her friends and family. If not for the scar poking out from her hairline, you might not have thought anything happened to her at all.

At one point, Roger handed Felix some mistletoe and walked over to you.

“Oh!” he cried dramatically, earning more giggles from his son. “Looks like we ran into each other under the mistletoe. You know what that means.”

He winked as you rolled your eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, though.

“You are such an idiot,” you teased.

“Well, you owe this idiot a kiss,” he returned.

With a laugh, you obliged, leaning over to peck him on the lips.

Everyone laughed, sang, and got covered in glitter and pine needles as the house turned into a Christmas winter wonderland. You finally felt the spirit of the holiday. You were almost sad when it was completed because you were having such a wonderful time.

Luckily, the evening wasn’t over. Roger and Dom still wanted to make dinner, so you all herded into the kitchen. You took Rory and Felix crawled into Bill’s lap while the former couple got to work. Felix was animatedly talking to Bill about all the things he was asking Santa for, but Rory’s energy had depleted. She rested her head against your chest and closed her droopy eyes.

“This baby is tired,” you remarked, smiling.

“Well, she’ll eat a bit before we put her to bed,” Dominique said.

The children were fed first, with some assistance from you and Bill. Felix was truly taking advantage of all the attention he was getting. Rory was just tired and a little fussy. When they were done, Bill and Dom went to put them to bed. You and Roger started to prepare the wine.

“Y/N, I wanted to tell you just how much last night meant to me,” he said as you placed four glasses on the counter. “I really think things are just working out.”

“I do too,” you agreed with a grin. “Last night was incredible and it reassured me that we were meant to find each other again.”

He smiled and kissed you sweetly.

“I also wanted to thank you again for taking this case,” he said. “No matter what happens, we are so grateful for everything.”

“Roger, please, we are just happy you trust us enough,” you told him. “Bill and I adore you and Dom. We’re your friends. And I think after tonight….we’re all kind of family.”

“A weird family,” he joked.

“But a family all the same,” you insisted.

He kissed you again, and in it, you felt that he shared the sentiment.

Bill and Dominique returned, laughing softly together. You handed them each a glass of the freshly poured wine.

“They go down okay?” you asked.

“Perfectly,” Dominique said. “Felix always acts like he’s not sleepy, but the second his head hits the pillow, out go the lights.”

“Sounds like Roger,” you teased.

“I know, right?!” Dominique agreed.

You all chuckled. As Roger began retrieving things from the fridge for dinner, the phone rang. Verity picked it up on her way into the kitchen. You watched her expression shift to concern.

“Y/N, it’s for you,” she said. “It’s your assistant.”

You swept over to her and took the receiver.

“Jane, what is it?” you asked.

“The jury’s back,” she said. “You’ve got to get to court.”

Your stomach dropped. “Thanks, we’ll be right there.”

You hung up. All eyes were on you. Bill looked at you with understanding.

“The jury’s back,” he said, not having to guess.

You nodded.

“Dinner will have to wait,” Roger said. “Let’s go.”

You all rushed to grab your things and headed back into town.

The courtroom was empty now that it was late. Roger was the only person in the audience. You arrived after Glen and Nick were already seated. You noticed him and Roger exchange glares.

You all stood when Judge Walsh entered and took his seat. Glen and Nick remained standing while the jury filed in. Once all the formalities were taken care of, Judge Walsh looked at the jury.

“Have you reached a verdict?” he asked.

The foreman - who was actually a woman - stood up.

“We have, your honor,” she said.

“What say you?”

She unfolded the paper in her hand. You watched with bated breath. This was it. Had you done enough?

“In the matter of the people versus Sully, we the jury find the defendant, Nicholas David Sully, guilty…”

You didn’t hear the rest. You looked over at Dominique, but her face was already buried in Bill’s chest, and his arms were around her. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. You turned around to see Roger, head in his hands, absolutely frozen.

“Members of the jury, thank you for your service,” Judge Walsh said. “This court is adjourned.”

He slammed his gavel, and it felt like a wake up call. A burst of joy shot through you and you jumped out of your seat to hug Roger. He welcomed you into his arms as you embraced over the wall between you.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Dominique, tears and makeup streaming down her cheeks, but the widest grin you had ever seen on her face.

“Thank you,” she choked out.

Your own eyes welled up with tears. You didn’t have words, so you pulled her into the hug. You yanked Bill in as well, and the four of you stood there, relieved and victorious. The sentencing would be in a few weeks, but you were already over the biggest hurdle. You felt a little bit of pride in yourself. It was your first ever criminal conviction.

“How about we celebrate?” Bill suggested. “Let’s have a drink at the bar before we go back for dinner?”

“That sounds perfect,” Dominique said.

She took his hand. You took Roger’s. All of you headed out to the bar. A few of your coworkers - including Jane - were already there, so you told them the good news. There was champagne to go around. You hardly drank any. You were too busy dancing with Roger. Dinner was forgotten. The whole evening was spent at the bar, toasting, dancing, and being with the person you loved more than life itself - Roger Meddows Taylor.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #Queen #queen imagine #queen x reader #queen x you #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #BoRhap #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #just like a woman series

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ruakichan · 3 years

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Another state of roo gaming conglomopost.

I may have mentioned it offhand, but I recently moved to a place that has no internet. I’ve had to rely on my phone & mobile data for online access, and the area has like... 2 bars on 4G on a good day with the weather and stars aligned. So while I’ve been able to access mobages that aren’t too hard on the data, like Exos and Alchstars, games like GBF had to be put on the ‘log in and that’s it’ backend. I tried to do GW and that was just ... lololololol.

So I’ve been doing some console gaming! Namely Ace Attorney Chronicles and Tales of Arise. Gonna talk briefly about that! While I am avoiding spoilers and will talk in generalities, if you’re wanting to avoid any talk about those two, please be mindful of the cut!

Onward!

First off, Ace Attorney. I’ve played all the games since the franchise was first localized, so was pretty happy we got these since we missed out on their initial release for the handhelds. That said, it’s definitely the AA formula—including the good and bad. Love the wacky cast, offbeat humor, and off-the-wall wild storylines, especially since most of it is a huge lampshade to Sherlock Holmes stories (including outright mocking the “logic” of the Speckled Band), of which I’m also a huge fan of. But it still has the biggest issue I always had with the AA games: soooooo muchhhh unnecessary text that takes forever to get the point. So I have to take this game in baby steps. I think I’m only on the last case for the first game right now.

Don’t like the prosecutor. I actually just let his lines autorun while I play my mobages when he’s up on the screen. So much racism. Sooooo so much. There’s a lot of it in the game, due to setting, but my god this guy won’t shut the fuck up, and I have to deal with enough of that IRL. I also just rushed through the fourth case cause of it. Not what I want in my escapism, thanks.

Overall though, I’m enjoying it, though the “Jury System” ignites a righteous rage in me in how unfairly irrational it is and I want to shake every single person on that board.

Next up, Tales of Arise, which I’m currently devoting most of my spare attention to these days (I’ve recruited the last of the main cast right now). It’s been a while since I really enjoyed a Tales of game; Xillia 2 was my last one that I really got into; I enjoyed Zestiria to an extent but the battle system was just tedious. (Did not play Berseria since nothing about it got my attention and Crestoria was such a shitshow at launch.)

Don’t like the theme song for Arise, especially after White Light from Zesty being such a banger. Intro felt lackluster too; I know UFOtable can do better, so seeing this one was a disappointment.

Sakuraba is my absolute favorite composer for video games, but Arise’s BGMs are so, so bad. So generic and lacking any strong motifs, I really felt that he phoned it in. I can’t tell any of the songs apart, but at least they’re so generic that it’s easy to tune most of them out.

English dub is pretty good! I always try to give dubs a chance and I think they did a nice job with this! Only one that I’ve side-eyed has been Law, who is my current favorite character, so I’m a bit sad about that. Characters are decent enough; no one for me to get fannish over, but no one I’m like ‘god get them off my screen.’ They’re there, they’re inoffensive.

Battle system, once you get the ball rolling, is fairly fun and fluid, especially the Fatal Strikes or whatever they’re called in this game. Boss battles are extremely grueling at the moment—they are very tanky and spongy, so battles can last a long time. Unfortunately sometimes there’s a lot going on on the screen, with a lot of systems the game wants you to manage, so it can be easy to get one-shot by a mistake you didn’t even know what was coming. But nothing too frustrating. I feel like the game wants to encourage a lot of grinding but doesn’t actually give you a lot of places to grind at (Zesty had this problem too). Button layout is a bit weird and gave me huge Graces vibes; unfortunately you can’t change the config. But still, I’m definitely enjoying it better than Zesty’s, but it isn’t as fun as Vesperia’s or Xillia 2′s.

Story wise... oh man. I know Tales of can be a trope-y series, but this one just plays everything straight. Everything I predicted just from being exposed to it for a few minutes, has come out exactly as I thought. No subversions or aversions here LOL, no shocking revelations. It’s also not a very compelling plot? It’s just a plot. Maybe it’ll get better now that I got all my party members and we can focus on fleshing out the story more.

The story is also fairly serious and there aren’t a lot of light-hearted moments, even in skits. I really do miss this aspect since it’s one of the reasons I like Tales of games—the humorous parts really help connect me to characters more, as it makes them feel more rounded and human, than just SERIOUS! ANGST! all the damn time. I can play a Final Fantasy game if I wanted that.

Speaking of skits, the presentation style is weird. Like, it’s hard to explain without someone visually watching it, but I really don’t understand why they went this route of faux comic book/storyboard scenes. I guess to save money on modelling actions but at this point, just do talking heads? I dunno. I got used to it, but it’s still really jarring when they come up.

Anyhoo, it’s still a decent enough game, though I’m still waiting for something to really ‘wow’ me.

#roo gaming

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

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various misconceptions i had while binging tma for the first time

i thought it was going to be motws in the style of like txf, where some are important but most are knock offs. my friend sarah explained that no, it was all important. i then asked like 10 times if the anglerfish would ever come back

after the first episode i legitimately asked sarah whether or not the "statements" were true stories. (i like to think mag 2 and 3 wouldve clued me into the fact that they were not true stories)

i originally spelled it "yorgan lightner"

sarah made a post about jon being mean to martin (she was relistening alongside me) and i immediately thought that martin had died

on the opposite end of the spectrum, i thought sasha would come back at the end of s1

for about half of s1 i forgot who the hell elias was

i thought the Not-Them was a version of the irish changeling stories. i was wrong, but i appreciated the shout out at the end of mag 77

i listened to about half the season 3 trailer thinking that it was jon talking. i was like oh thank god they know elias committed that murder and then i figured it out and felt very dumb.

i saw that post about "jons ex girlfriend who is very angry with him at the end of s4" but somehow i did not connect this to georgie for a very long time. so i thought there was going to be another ex girlfriend who showed up angry at the end of s4

i thought lonelyeyes was canon, like one of the first posts i saw mentioning peter lukas was the "hello peter it is your husband elias" post and i was like sounds right. it took me half of s4 to figure it out bc i thought it was weird they hadn't brought it up

i ALSO thought gertrude/leitner was canon. possibly bc they're played by jonny sims' parents, definitely because of that post that's like. "she fucked that old man."

one of the first episodes i ever heard details about was "cul de sac," before i ever listened, and for some reason i got this picture of like a bunch of little clone children bouncing balls at the end of a driveway and i was so confused it wasnt in the episode?? i dunno where this came from anyways

i thought jon's coma would last like half a season

similarly i thought martin being in the lonely was going to span several episodes

i knew that jon ended the world, but i didn't know about jonah's role, or the marks. so idk what exactly i thought was going on but i'm pretty sure i thought jon ended the world on purpose, and was pretty confused during the whole unknowing plotline

i thought more characters would die (jury's still out on that one)

#the magnus archives #i dunno lol

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the-dead-skwad · 4 years

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Secret X Damien Haas X Reader

Thank you for being so patient with me :) I know it takes me ages to post so I’m sorry. Another Damien fluff shit. The only warnings are swearing like always. I have mentioned names of family members, I know you won’t relate to that part but just like change it in your head.

"Heeeyyyyy! What's up guys!" Your usual loud voice boomed across the set as you spoke to the camera. "Me and the beautiful Damien are here today playing an old spoopy classic in the spirit of halloweeeeeeeeeen!" You picked up the case for resident evil 2 and waved it around. It was the remastered version but still it was going to be as fun.

Damien took the case from your hand "ZOMBIES!" He yelled as loud as he could "Throw back!" and he literally threw the case behind him hitting the back of the set. "So glad you guys could join me and Y/N watching us kill some zombies and possibly poop our pants."

"I hope I don't, I really like these pants." You stuck your leg in the air .

Damien laughed "So if you were wearing pants you didn't like pooping your pants would be perfectly fine?"

You looked around for a second "Ermmm yeah. Anyway don't forget to subscribe and punch that bell to get notifications! Punch it, slap it, hold its hand, do what you want to the bell. I'm such a hoe for zombies so I'm just superrr excited today!"

Damien looked at you and laughed "You a hoe?"

"Big hoe!" You both laughed together.

As the game started one of the crew members switched the lights off "Oh!" Damien shouted "No one told me it would be in the dark."

You turned slowly to look at him and spoke in a low whisper "How else do you do anything spoopy?"

"You really freak me out when it comes to horrors, like you get so into it." "Hoe for horrors." You whispered really creepily. -- The shoot was going so well, your stomach actually hurt from laughing so much. "Quick!" You shouted again "There’s a zombie! There!"

"I know Y/N I can see it." he turned to look at you for a split second "Ahhh!" A zombie shot out in front of the screen making you both scream.

"Oh you bitch!" you basically leapt out of your seat grabbing hold of Damien's arm and hiding behind him. "Nope!"

He turned to look at you, "You okay back there?" He wrapped one arm around you.

"Yeahhh" Your face popped back into shot from under his arm. Looking up at him you smiled, for just a minute your eyes lingered on his face, you noticed so much more than usual. His eyes, his smile, just everything about his was perfect. You soon snapped out of it when you realised you were both just staring at each other in front of all the crew.

"I thinks that’s enough for now!" Ian's voice came across the set "We'll break for lunch and finish this later."

"So," You turned to look at him as you picked your bag up "What do you fancy for lunch?"

"Well I said to Shayne I'd meet him for lunch, go to the cafe down the road. Wonna come?"

"As long as I'm not interrupting your man date." Walking towards the office to find Shayne.

Just out of ear shot "You would never interrupt anything in my life." he answered you.

Lunch was nice, the three of you sat outside in the sun with a coffee and a sandwich.

"How was the shoot this morning?" Shayne looked at you both.

Both of you looked at each other before you answered "Yeah it was good. Nearly shat myself at one point but all we have to do is shoot the wrap up."

"Awesome. Bet its super funny."

Taking a sip of your coffee you couldn't help but feel something happened between the two of you. Even after all this time of you working and being friends you hadn't really noticed anything. You knew you liked him but work and friendship was so important to you, you didn't want to ruin anything.

You realised that while you were in your own thoughts Shayne and Damien were just talking so much shit. "Hey." Damien nudged you "You awake?"

"Yeah." You smiled at him "I was just thinking..." He was looking at you in the same way again.

Shayne hadn't noticed anything "I was thinking you guys could come on try not to laugh together or we could do who knows best, maybe Damien best friend" He pointed at himself "and on screen girlfriend" he pointed at you "Orrrrr I dunno.. hold on I have so many ideas."

While Shayne was scrolling through his phone reeling off so many different things the tree of you could do together, you felt Damien's hand slowly touch your knee. He was wayy too much of a gentleman to touch you thigh. As he squeezed your knee you felt your heart jump into your throat. You reached down and placed your hand on his, you moved it up slightly so he wasn't reaching so far under the table. Squeezing his hand lightly so he knew that you were okay with all of this.

"Damien, what do you think about this?" Shayne shoved his phone in his face snapping out of his daze.

"Ahhh, erm shnizburtness."

You choked on your coffee "Whats up?" looking at him laughing so hard. "Are you okay man?" Shayne was laughing too "Did your brain break?" "Honestly I have no idea what just happened." His side-wards smile made you heart melt.

Shayne go up to use the bathroom still laughing to himself. Damien turned to look at you taking both your hands in his. "So what are we doing?"

"I'm not sure but what ever it is I'm absolutely loving it."

Already sat pretty close you leaned in a little further. You could feel your heart beating through out your entire body as you pressed your lips against his. It was so perfect like nothing you had ever experienced in your life. It was like your brain turned into fireworks.

He moved back and smiled at you, he stroked his thumb across your cheek "So perfect."

"Oh my god! I've just had an idea.." Shayne was on his way back "Just pretend for now that nothing has happened." He sat back down "I think we should do Who knows best.. I question you two. You can fight it out for the spot of main man in my life."

"Awesome!"

-- As soon as you got back to the office Shayne walked ahead to talk to Ian about the plan. Just before the set the was a door that lead to the costume room. You both knew that no one would be in there as you two were the only ones in this video. He looked at you and smiled. Checking around you to make sure no one could see you, you both went into the room. You only looked at each other for a second before you literally leapt on each other. Your lips smashed together, your entire body was filled with butterfly's. You jumped up and wrapped you legs around his waist. He took a few steps forward pushing you against the wall. Half a rail of costumes collapsed on the floor. His lips parted from yours and moved down to your neck. You threw your head back letting out a small moan.

"Hey!" A voice from behind the door made you panic. You jumped off him and straightened yourself out. The door swung open and Courtney stood there looking at you both. "What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing," You said nervously "I just knocked this stand over."

"Why do you look so flustered?"

"I hurt my toe..."

"Riiighhttt. They're waiting for you guys ."

The rest of the shoot went perfect. Ian and Garett were happy to do a 'Who knows best' with the three of you as well. It was going to be hard but you only had to hide your relationship for 3 days.

It as finally the day of the shoot, it had been very difficult keeping you both a secret. There was a couple of times you had snuck off and almost been caught. But from what you guys knew know had clocked on yet. Your plan would work perfectly as long as Shayne didn't know.

As you stood at your kitchen counter making your coffee to take to work you felt an arm wrap around your waist. You squeezed his arm making him hold you tighter. He left gentle kissed on the exposed skin on your shoulder. "Hmmm. Why did we only just decide to do this?"

"Well, you've asked this 20 times since we first kissed," You turned in his arms so you were face to face "and how was I supposed to know you liked me as much as I liked you." You gave him a meaningful kiss.

"I guess you could say zombies bought us together."

"What can I say.. I'm a hoe for horrors."

He laughed at you hugging you tighter "Come on you we gotta get to work."

Pulling up in work parking lot Courtney pulled up right by you and Shayne was leaning against his car waiting for the lot of you. He looked at you both as you got out your car "Are you ready to be shameeeedddd as I prove that I am the ultimate best friend?"

"Of course Shayne.. How ever will I beat you?" Damien shook his head, he watched you as you walked to the offices with Courtney.

As soon as the guys were out of earshot she looked at you "Soooo, how was last night? Did he stay over? Did anything happen? Do I need to start looking for bridesmaid dresses?"

"Jesus Court" You laughed at her "No, nothing happened. Me and Damien are just super good friends. All this chemistry is for the fans," As you lied through your teeth all you could see in your head were flashes of the night before. The touching, feeling, searching. My god you had never had sex like it.

On set you were quite excited. It was set up so you sat opposite Damien and Shayne . As soon as you all sat down you could feel Damien’s foot stroking your leg. You raised your eyebrows at him and smiled.

"Action!" Garett shouted.

"Hey guys!" You spoke to the camera "We're here today to see who knows me best! I've been friends with Damien and Shayne for a few years now and we all know tumblr has shipped me with both. So really I guess its a test for the ultimate ship. We also have the jury sat by our side." You pointed to Courtney, Noah and Kieth sat at the side "They can give a guess if both bots get it wrong."

"So!" Shayne spoke as loud as always "Last time Courtney beat Damien and won the spot of my best friend, I shall prove today that I am the best."

"In your dreams bitch!" Damien laughed at him "Before we start can we just ask you to subscribe and punch that notification bell so you know what we're doing."

"First question!" You looked at the cards infront of you "How many siblings do I have? Extra points for gender and names."

"Oh fuck!" Shayne said loudly "You have a huge family!"

Damien smiled at you and gave you a small wink, luckily no one saw him. The camera probably did though. You picked up the water gun off the table and started to pump it "I fully well know they won't get this right."

They both sighed as they finished writing. Shayne went first "I guessed 2 sisters, 3 brothers. Lydia, Kate, John, Johnathon and Johnny."

Everyone laughed at him, "John, Johnathon and Johnny?" Courtney nearly screamed at him.

"I couldn't think of other male names!"

"Shyane! There's literally multiple males in this room!" Noah couldn't believe him.

Still laughing you smiled at Damien "Anddddd how wrong are you?" Even though you were together you would genuinely be impressed if he got it right.

He spun the board around "You have 4 sisters, no brothers. Lydia, Mia, Ava and your step sister who you don't actually see Jess."

You smiled and shook your head. You pumped the gun a little more ans shot Shayne directly in the chest making him scream. "Honestly I'm impressed Damien. How in the hell did you know that?"

"Well you know" He just shurgged "I listen."

Courtney squeaked "That is super cute."

If only she knew you thought to yourself. You internally smiled "Anyway next question. This one is easier. What is my favourite thing to order for lunch? I know I pretty much eat two things but I deffo get one thing more."

It literally took them two seconds to answer which really made you think you should change up your diet. "Damien you first."

"This is also very easy.." He spun his board around "So you either get pad thai, which is most of our favourite but more than usual you get subway chicken and bacon BBQ wrap."

Shayne made a very loud noise "I said chicken and bacon too!"

"Yep, you're both right.. I seriously need to try more food apparently."

After a list of questions you pulled out the last one smiling to yourself. You looked up at Shayne and laughed to yourself, he was literally dripping wet and Damien had got one wrong. You turned to look at the camera. "If this question wasn't so good I'd just end it here. I mean jesus Shayne! You call yourself my friend."

Damien also laughed "Honestly from this it looks like you guys have never actually met."

"Okay!" Shayne shouted. "I clearly do not listen to you guys enough. I promise from this day forward I will be a better friend."

You rolled your eyes at him "Anyway, final question." They started a drum roll on the table "True or false I have a secret boyfriend."

"What!" Courtney shouted "I mean there’s no way! We would know that." You smiled at everyone "Shayne you first."

He looked around doing that fmaous confused face "I put false... because there’s no way you wouldn't tell us."

You smiled at Damien as he spoke "So I said true..." He spun his board around "Because Its me."

The room was silent for a second. Shayne turned slowly looking at both of you "WHAT!" He shputed the loudest you had ever heard him.

"Wait." Kieth stood up "You two are together... like actually together."

You smiled at him for the millionth time "Yeah we are."

"OOOOHHHH MY GOD!" Courtney had now joined in on the screaming.

You stood up and walked up to him to give him a hug. He also stood up and wrapped his arms around you "Sorry dude, I wanted to tell you but we thought this way would be so much funnier."

Shayne joined in on the hug "I mean finally!" Then they all joined in for a big group hug.

You pulled away and winked at the camera. "I just have one last thing I need to do though." You walked back round to your side of the table and pulled out the biggest water gun "I'm sorry dude." You pointed it straight at Shayne "But you did get the last one wrong!"

#smosh fanfic #smosh fic #smosh imagine #damien haas imagine #damien haas fluff #damien haas x reader #shayne topp imagine

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