#thinking about previous releases on here...
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Halcyon - Ch. 11: What Else Would It Be?
You deal with the fallout from your ex's visit as you ring in the new year with Joel, Sarah and Tommy. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 10, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.
^Again, we're pretending like this is Joel. Even though he's a little old to be Joel at this point but YOU KNOW WHAT? WE'RE GONNA GO WITH IT HBO I BEG YOU
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Joel and Goldie being dumbasses. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI
Length: 5.1K
AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter
Joel was kissing you.
He tasted like coffee and you could smell his soap on his skin and his hand was on your lower back, fingers twisting in your shirt as he held you close to him.
He pulled back slowly, breaking the kiss for a moment before moving to press a shorter, more familiar one to your lips. He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours before looking to Gale.
“You must be the…” Joel looked him up and down. “Ex-husband. Gus, is it?”
Gale’s jaw quirked, looking between you and Joel.
“Gale,” he corrected. “And I’m still the husband. At least for now.”
“Ahh, right, right,” Joel nodded, tugging you against his side with a sharp little yank. “That paperwork you keep draggin’ your feet on. Can’t say I blame you, I wouldn’t want to let this one go, either, if I were able to lock her down…”
“Wouldn’t call it dragging my feet…”
Joel released you then, stepping closer to Gale. You’d never realized how much taller than him Joel was, the younger man at least three or four inches larger than the older.
“What would you call it, then?” Joel asked. “I might call it tormenting your wife because you can’t stand the fact that she’s got a life outside you after you fucked it up. But that’s me, ain’t it Georgie?”
“Don’t think what happens in my marriage is much of your business,” Gale’s voice was heated, his back a little straighter. “Don’t think I caught your name. Or who you are to my wife.”
“Me?” Joel asked. “Oh, I’m just the one who’s been lookin’ out for her while you take out your problems on her. Don’t worry, though. She’s doing just fine with me.”
Gale looked at you and you snapped your mouth shut, only then realizing that it was hanging open.
“Think I’ll head on out, darling,” he said, ducking around Joel go come and stand close to you, so close you were almost touching. Your heart stuttered and you hated it. “Seems like you might have your hands full.”
He slipped an arm around your waist, making you jump a little, and pulled you close, looking at you like he was going to kiss you the way he used to for a moment. Instead, his lips brushed your cheek, his nose tracing over your temple as he pulled back from you.
“Let me know when you’re back home,” he said. “And think about what I said.”
He released you and Joel took his place beside you, pulling you into him as he watched Gale leave.
“Don’t let that door hit you on the way out,” Joel called after him, holding you tight to his side so you couldn’t follow. His grip on you loosened when the two of you heard the car door slam. “Gonna give it a minute so he has a chance to get outta here but I did come bearing ice cream…”
“Ice cream,” you turned to look at him, incredulous, your heart still racing from when he’d kissed you. “That’s what you’re worried about right now. Ice cream.”
He shrugged.
“I mean, it’s melting…”
“Jesus Christ,” you stalked off to the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gale’s car leaving from the small window as you leaned over the sink.
“What?” He followed behind you. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re all worked up over that…”
Gale’s sleek, black rental car pulled onto the road, throwing dirt up behind it as it went.
“Sorry if I fucked up whatever plans you had with that asshole,” Joel said, his voice a little heated. “But he’s a jackass and if you want to actually cross some of that shit off your list, you can’t just backslide into fucking your ex…”
You just sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes for a moment. Of course that was the part he was worried about.
Not that you weren’t, too. It had just fallen much further down your list of concerns since Joel had kissed you.
You hadn’t expected Joel to show up any more than you’d expected Gale to.
When you hung up with Joel, a smile spread over Gale’s face and he looked happy to see you. Actually happy to see you, like seeing you was making his whole day.
You couldn’t remember the last time he looked at you like that.
“Are you going to invite me in?” He’d asked, brows raised.
It took you a moment to register that he’d spoken.
“Sorry, yes, sure,” you said, stepping aside. “Come in.”
He smiled a little and came inside your cabin, looking around with an appreciative nod.
“You always did like your quiet spaces when you were writing,” he said, making his way into your living room. “I remember when you were working on Halcyon, how you’d sometimes sit at the back of the closet, lights out, with just your laptop…”
“It kept you from distracting me,” you smiled a little at the memory, that time seeming so close but so far away. “Speaking of which… what are you doing here?”
“Distracting you,” he threw a small smile over his shoulder to you. You rolled your eyes but smiled a little back in spite of yourself. “I meant it when I said I missed you. My life’s been…” he paused for a moment. “Dim without you.”
“Says volumes about Carla’s sparkling wit,” you said wryly, feeling bad almost the second it was out of your mouth. She was young, naive. She didn’t deserve you mocking her when she couldn’t even defend herself.
But Gale laughed once.
“I can’t say anyone’s ever put me through my paces quite like you, doll,” he said. “I didn’t know how I’d miss being challenged until I wasn’t anymore.”
“You never liked when I challenged you,” you said.
“No,” he nodded. “But, turns out… I like being blindly adored even less.”
You scoffed at that.
“I mean it,” he said, stepping close to you, close enough that you could smell is cologne. “Turns out, I need someone like you. Someone who can see me, see my flaws, challenge me, push me to be my best. I need someone who is smart and, believe it or not, intelligence isn’t the prerequisite for ivy league admittance you’d think it is. You’re one of the only people I know who is smart enough to keep me on my toes.”
He reached out, brushing some unseen dust from your shoulder and then trailing his fingers over your neck.
“I need you,” he said, so close to you now that you felt the familiar tug at the base of your chest, the way he’d always pulled you into his orbit. How you’d wanted to kiss him so badly in his office when you’d been young and desperately lonely and he seemed to understand you through your words the way no one had before. How you wanted to kiss him now because you hadn’t been kissed in so long.
You swallowed, hard.
“Tea?” You said quickly before you did something you’d regret later. You turned to head to the kitchen before he could respond. “I was just about to make myself a cup…”
You could practically hear him smirk.
“Sure,” he said. “You always did love your tea.”
You made his tea just the way he liked it, Earl Grey with a splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar, placing it in front of the seat he’d taken at the table. You sat across from him, hoping that some distance would help, trying to focus on the flavor of the tea you’d chosen - ginger peach - and the thick sweetness of honey on your tongue.
“So,” Gale said after a moment, setting his mug in front of him and crossing his arms on the tabletop. “Tell me about this book.”
You considered not talking to him about it for a moment. Writing had always felt so intimate to you, sharing it in any form while it was in process was mortifying. Gale had been the only person you’d ever been able to bear looking at your work before it was done and he’d always made it better. But he was nothing to you now, just a man who said he loved you once.
Who was making it sound like he might love you again. How could you share this story with him? How could you not?
“Well,” you sighed before you felt like you’d really made up your mind. “It’s about a marriage…”
Gale drifted closer to you as you walked him through the story, how it had already changed over the few days you’d been working on the thing, where you wanted it to go. Before too long, he was beside you, his fingers trailing over your bicep to your elbow and back again.
“I really have missed that mind of yours,” he said when you trailed off. His eyes were hungry on you, his body warm next to your own and, for half a moment, you wanted to kiss him and feel him against you and remember what it was to be desired for a while.
But when he leaned toward you, something inside you shifted.
Yes, you were lonely. Not in the same way you’d been lonely when you’d gone away to college and met Gale the first time - you had Joel now, after all - but lonely in a way that you were acutely aware that you were no one’s and no one was yours. You knew that, before too long, Joel would cross “stable relationship” off his list and you couldn’t just show up at his house and climb in his bed so you weren’t crying into your pillowcase in the dark when things went wrong. He would have his hands full with whoever he decided to actually stick with and Sarah. Anna would have her new baby. You’d be on your own. It was inevitable, the sword of Damocles waiting for love to take the people you cared for most on to their own lives that had little to do with you. Gale had been the only person who had ever, truly, been yours. Falling back into him was tempting for that reason alone but… He wasn’t who you wanted.
You’d never tried to love your husband when Joel was near. You should have known that your feelings for Joel would drown out everything else, that you’d never have a hope of wanting someone else when he was there. And, as Gale leaned in to kiss you, all you could think was that he smelled wrong.
He smelled like cologne and leather and something artificial that you couldn’t place. You’d liked that smell once. Now, it fell short. You wanted sawdust and soap with hints of sweat and chlorine. You wanted Joel.
But… Gale was still someone. And someone was better than no one.
“Gale…” you said softly.
And then there was the knock at your door and then Joel was there, kissing you like it was nothing and picking a fight with your soon-to-be ex-husband.
“I wasn’t planning on getting back together with him,” you said, turning to face Joel, your back against the sink and your fingers gripping the counter as you tried to think about something - anything - beyond how he’d tasted when he’d kissed you. How his hair would feel between your fingers as you pulled him closer.
“Good,” Joel said, standing opposite you in the galley kitchen, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms as he did. “Because that man is nothing but bad for you, Goldie.”
You rolled your eyes.
“What?” He asked, incredulous. “I mean it…”
“You didn’t know me when we were actually together,” you said. “We were actually a really great couple…”
“Oh yeah,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Sure you two had a ton in fuckin’ common…”
“We did!” You protested. “I know you hate him on principle and I’m not about to ask you to stop but he’s really not a bad guy. I just… I couldn’t make it work.”
Joel squared his jaw, looking like he wanted to fight you about it, but instead, he just sighed.
“He gone?” He nodded to the window. You nodded once. “Good. I’ll go get the shit from the truck, back in a sec…”
When you heard the front door close, your fingers traced your lips, ghosting over where Joel had kissed you as you tried to shake the longing in your chest before your best friend came back inside.
***
“OK but it’s just one glass,” Sarah rolled her eyes at Joel from across the hot tub.
“And you’re 11,” Joel said.
“But it’s New Year’s Eve!” She protested, treading water lightly even though it was so shallow she could barely go all the way under at all.
“And you’re still 11,” Joel said. “You don’t need to have a glass of champagne.”
“No one needs a glass of champagne,” she rolled her eyes again.
“I might if I have to listen to you two fight anymore,” Tommy said.
“Amen,” you replied, reaching across the hot tub with your beer bottle to toast him. Tommy reached back with his own and the two of you met in the middle, glass clinking together.
“See, Goldie,” Tommy said. “Been saying I need someone else around to survive these two…”
“Please,” Sarah scoffed. “I’m pretty sure I knew how to make breakfast before you did. I think you need us to survive, not the other way around.”
You laughed and Joel watched you do it, trying not think too much about your lips and how they’d felt against him. As if he’d been able to stop thinking about that since he’d kissed you.
“It don’t matter who needs what,” Joel said. “You’re 11, you’re not drinkin’ alcohol. You can have that entire bottle of sparkling cider…”
“But what if I wanted a glass?” You asked, pouting a little.
“Fine,” Joel sighed, knowing you were just making things difficult but too happy to humor you to call you on it. “You can have almost the entire bottle of sparkling cider. You can’t have champagne.”
“You’re no fun,” Sarah slumped back, face scrunched, as the bubbles got the ends of her curls wet.
“That’s what they call me,” Joel said. “No fun Dad.”
“At least he lets you stay up until midnight,” you said, taking another sip of beer. “I didn’t get to do that until I was a teenager.”
“See?” Joel nudged Sarah with his foot. “I could be worse.”
“I guess,” she sighed dramatically before closing her eyes and resting her head back against the hot tub.
You just looked at Joel and smiled a little and Joel tried to keep his eyes from drifting down to your cleavage that sat just below the water. Because he had to stop thinking about you that way. He had to.
He couldn’t have been more grateful for his brother and daughter’s arrival earlier that day. He’d pulled Tommy aside as soon as he showed Sarah her room and gave her a minute to get settled, pulling him onto the back patio where they’d have some privacy.
“What the hell…”
“I kissed Goldie,” Joel hissed, looking furtively back toward the house before looking at Tommy.
“Wait what?” Tommy yelped and Joel was ready to strangle him.
“Shh!”
“Sorry!” Tommy whispered. “You did what? You kissed Goldie?”
“Yeah,” Joel whispered back.
“When?”
“Yesterday, when I first got here…”
“And all the time since, right?”
Joel glared at his brother.
“What?” Tommy said. “Reasonable question…”
“Fuck off,” Joel said. “I can’t do this again, Tommy, I can’t lose her again because I wasn’t able to… Look. This can’t happen again, OK?”
“OK,” Tommy said, voice calm. “So don’t do it again, seems easy enough…”
“It’s not that simple,” Joel said. Tommy just raised his eyebrows at him and Joel sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about it, man. I kissed her. I kissed her…”
“It was just a kiss though, right?” Tommy said. “Not like you two fucked.”
“No…”
“So?” Tommy shrugged again. “It was a kiss. What are you, 12? It’s not the end of the world, man. So you fucked up, you kissed your best friend, shit happens…”
“And it can’t happen again,” Joel said.
“So don’t do it again. I can be a buffer if that’s what you need,” Tommy said. “But it’s just a kiss. Hate to say it but… grow a pair, man.”
“Right,” Joel nodded slowly. He knew you weren’t overthinking this like he was, he knew it wouldn’t have meant anything to you and he needed to keep just playing it cool and pretending like he could think about anything else. “I just… you’re right. It was a mistake, it won’t happen again, I’m done doing stupid shit with her and then regretting it…”
The door to the porch creaked, making Joel jump.
“Hey guys?” You were standing there, looking between the two of them. “You up for a game of Mario Kart? Sarah’s getting the Switch set up…”
“Yeah,” Joel forced a smile. “Be right there.”
Joel sat on the opposite end of the couch from you, Tommy stuck in the middle and Sarah on the floor as the four of you played.
He’d been straining to keep his distance from you since he got here. He shouldn’t have fucking kissed you. That was a mistake, the kind that could wreck his life if he wasn’t careful. What if you just took off again because he couldn’t keep his shit together? What if he had to find a way to excise you from his life again?
That had been hard enough when you were both kids, it would be impossible now. It had only been a few short months but already he wasn’t sure how he’d survived without you. You were a fixture in his world now, the absence of you for all those years more acute now that he knew what he’d been missing that whole time. You could have been there with him if he’d just acted like a fucking adult and had some self control on prom night but he didn’t. Instead, he’d been a dumbass and he’d paid the price for that for years. He wasn’t about to let that happen again.
But you were here, so close, close enough that he could touch you and hear you and fucking smell you.
And he was sure that the plan had been for the two of you to share a room at the cabin. Why wouldn’t you? You shared one at home all the time, Joel sleeping so much more soundly when he could feel you settling into him as you drifted off. When you fell asleep, he always nuzzled into the top of your head as you used his chest as a pillow, taking advantage of the fact that you were unconscious to breathe you in and commit you to memory. He usually woke up curled around your back, your arms stretched far in front of you and your legs tangled in the sheets, nestled into your pillow instead of his skin. The nights you weren’t there, he pulled that pillow from your side of the bed close and held it like he wanted to hold onto you and tried to pretend it wasn’t the most fucking pathetic thing he’d ever done.
The night after he’d kissed you, the two of you had slept in separate beds. That alone was almost enough to make him regret it.
But what the fuck else was he supposed to do when he saw you there in the grip of that asshole you’d been married to? That guy who’d been dragging you through divorce proceedings so roughly that you’d come over and just cried into Joel’s shoulder twice since you’d moved back. That guy who didn’t seem like he was content unless you were under his control.
He was the kind of man who wouldn’t respect that you just said no. But he might respect another man’s claim so he’d kissed you. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
Or that’s what he told himself it was. That it wasn’t a selfish excuse to do the one thing he’d been wanting to do for fucking weeks.
Tommy and Sarah being here made it easier to stay away from you, at least. While the two of you had long since stopped acting like you didn’t share a room when you slept over, he had done his best to maintain some semblance of boundaries with you in front of Sarah. Fewer casual touches, no just holding you close because you were near him on the couch and he knew you wouldn’t mind. He didn’t want to confuse his daughter and make her think there was more to this than there was. When Tommy and Sarah were there, he didn’t need to find a reason to keep his distance. When Tommy and Sarah were there, he didn’t need to lie to himself and pretend that he wasn’t fighting to keep from kissing you again.
He’d thought, at first, that he’d at least been able to dodge talking about it. That he’d played it cool enough that he’d thought the reasoning was obvious. But, once you were done angrily texting your agent to demand how Gale had gotten this address to begin with and had a few glasses of wine in you after dinner, you sat on the opposite end of the couch from Joel, a bowl of pecan praline ice cream balanced on your knees as you watched him closely.
“What?” He asked, raising his brows at you.
“Why did you do that?” You asked.
“Do what?”
“Kiss me.”
You said it so plainly, as though you were asking why he ordered spaghetti at dinner or why he painted his living room sage green.
“I know you think I hate your ex for no reason,” he said. “But I have a reason. I’ve seen how he’s been hurting you. Didn’t want him to think you were just his for the taking so…”
He shrugged.
“And that’s…” you paused for a moment, glancing to the side before looking back at him. “That’s the only reason?”
His heart sped up.
“Course it is,” he said, looking back at the movie you’d put on that he hadn’t been paying any damn attention to before, either. “What else would it be?”
“Right,” you’d said. “You’re right.”
Tommy and Sarah being there was a mercy. It saved him from more of those conversations.
Even if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you.
“We should think about heading inside,” you said, glancing at your phone. “It’s only an hour to midnight, figure we’d like to all be nice and dry by the time the countdown starts.”
“Yeah, my first champagne toast should really be done in dry clothes,” Sarah said sagely.
“No champagne,” Joel said. “But yes, dry clothes. Let’s go, kiddo.”
She groaned and you and Tommy laughed and at least Joel could take comfort in the fact that he’d figured out this part of his life. He could do this, if he really focused on it. He could just take care of his daughter and just be friends with you and just keep an eye on his little brother. He didn’t need to be anything more to you. He could live with that.
If that’s what it took to keep you in his life at all? He could really, really live with that.
The four of you made your way inside and got changed into pajamas before gathering around the TV to watch people partying around the country, the adults starting in on the champagne and Sarah sipping her cider with her pinky extended.
“So,” you said. “What’s everyone excited for in 2023?”
“Taylor Swift,” Sarah said automatically.
You laughed.
“Alright, maybe that was too easy,” you said. “What’s everyone thankful for going into 2023?”
“Still Taylor Swift,” Sarah said and you laughed again. “But really… probably getting to play soccer and stuff with my best friends. And Swiftie. She’s the best cat in the world.”
“Those are good,” you nodded, looking to Tommy. “You?”
“I’m thankful there are still women in Austin willing to go on dates with me,” Tommy said. Joel snorted and Tommy elbowed him in the ribs. “What about you, Goldie?”
“I’m thankful that I’m someplace I can put down some roots again,” you said. “And that I won’t need to up and move in 2023.” You turned toward Joel, your head cocked and a soft smile on your face and he could remember how you tasted a little like honey when he kissed you. “Joel?”
“Thankful for Sarah, of course,” he said. Sarah rolled her eyes. “What, baby girl? I am.”
“Something besides me,” she said. “We all know I’m a gift…”
“Christ your teenage years are gonna be rough with that ego,” Joel sighed and Sarah laughed. “But… I dunno… probably just having Goldie back in Texas. Hasn’t been the same without her here.”
“Joel,” you looked at him, a little misty eyed. “Really?”
“Course,” he smiled a little. “I missed you, Goldie Girl.”
You smiled back.
“I missed you, too.”
“The countdown is up!” Sarah jumped to her feet and pointed at the icon in the corner. “Just a minute left!”
The adults all got to their feet and pressed closer to the TV screen, watching as the numbers got lower and lower and the year that you’d come back to Joel grew closer and closer to being in the past.
“Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”
The four of you cheered and hugged and toasted and drank and Sarah pressed herself against Joel’s side, giving him a squeeze.
“Love you, Dad,” she said quietly.
“Love you, too, Kiddo,” he said, kissing the crown of her head and squeezing her back.
She pulled away from him to go hug Tommy and Joel looked to you, finding you watching the screen with your eyes rimmed in tears, champagne glass half empty in your grip. You didn’t seem to notice that Joel was watching you, downing the rest of your drink in one go before setting the glass down on the coffee table and heading for the back door.
Joel glanced back at Sarah and Tommy, a frown on his brother’s face but his daughter seemingly oblivious to the fact that you’d just left. Joel jerked his head toward the door and Tommy gave him a single nod as Joel followed you into the backyard.
He didn’t see you at first. You weren’t on the patio or the deck and then, in the glow of a firework that someone set off from across the lake behind the cabin, he saw you, staring out from the water’s edge.
He went over to you and you didn’t seem to notice him, frozen as you looked at the lake.
“Goldie?” Joel asked as he got close, not wanting to spook you. You jumped anyway. “Sorry, wasn’t tryin’ to scare you.”
“It’s OK,” you said, smiling tightly at him as he took his place at your side. “I’m just jumpy, apparently.”
“You alright?” He asked, standing close enough to you that he could feel the warmth of you. “You kinda blew outta there and it’s cold out here…”
“I’m fine,” you said, looking back out at the water. “Just… needed some air.”
“Air,” Joel said, trying to hide the skepticism in his voice. Another firework cracked over the lake, the sparks of it reflected on the water. “You sure that’s it?”
You looked over at him again, your arms crossed tightly in front of you. Another firework and he could see the fog of your breath in front of your lips.
“Partially,” you smiled a little again before looking back to the water and taking a deep breath. “But… it’s also that this is the second year that I’m alone on New Year’s Eve. Second year I’m starting things off on my own. Second year I can’t even find some random guy to kiss me at a party…”
“You’re not alone,” Joel said gently. “You’ve got me n’Sarah…”
“It’s not the same,” you said. “But the thought is sweet, though.”
“It’s not like last year,” he said. “It’s going to be different…”
“Because things are going to magically get better?” You asked, turning to face him, your brows raised. “Because you’re going to just invent someone who’s going to actually want me so you can help me cross off my check list?”
“Goldie…”
You winced, closing your eyes tightly for a moment and taking a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” you waved him off. “None of this is your fault, I don’t know why I’m taking it out on you, it’s not fair to you. You’re right, it is different now and I’m so thankful I have you and Sarah and even Tommy. I just… I wish I had someone who wanted to kiss me at midnight, you know?”
Joel’s throat was dry, so dry that he couldn’t seem to form the words he so desperately wanted to say.
“Sorry,” you said again. “We should get back before Sarah notices…”
You turned to go, dropping your arms and heading back up the short hill toward the cabin but Joel caught your wrist, pulling you back toward him. You frowned a little, facing him and looking between where he was holding you and his face.
“I know it’s not what you want it to be,” he said, reaching out slowly to gently cup your cheek. “But… I think friends can kiss for New Year’s, right?”
“Right,” you said, a little breathless, your eyes wide. “Friends.”
“Right,” Joel whispered back, dropping your wrist to wrap his arm around your back and pull you against him, making your back arch as you pressed your body into his. “Friends.”
His eyes searched yours, waiting for you to object or to push him away, but you didn’t. Instead, he got closer and closer to you, until his eyes were closed and his lips were against yours and, for the second time in as many days, he kissed you.
For the second time in as many days, he didn’t want to stop.
A/N: I mean I think we all knew I wasn't going to let them get together so soon, right?
Right??
OK, cool.
But I promise, this is going to have repercussions very, very soon in this fic. I love these two and their push pull and I'm so sorry but I'm going to torment you all with it, too. OK?
Thanks for being here! Love you!!
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Datura Pt 13
Content Warnings: Torture, Canon Typical Violence, Cursing
Author's Note: This is short and straight up angst I'm so sorry, but I promise the next chapter will be longer.
Masterlist/ Previous Chapter
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You can’t reach him.
It’s all you can think about; the cold, quiet emptiness in your head, in your chest, it’s all encompassing. You’re too far out of reach to warn him. Hybern is here and no one will have any idea, least of all your mate.
You thrash against the hands that hold you--Hybern had winnowed you out of the Mountain and right into the waiting arms of his soldiers, four of which now drag you inside a temple on the outskirts of Spring’s borders, the old building badly burnt, as if someone had recently set it on fire--throwing your weight around as best you can until you hit the floor. Amarantha is not around to punish you, you let your claws slip out of your nail beds so you can gouge them into the worn stones of the Temple floor, trying to slow your progress. There is no manipulating, no smooth talking your way out of whatever Hybern has planned for you, your only chance is to run.
“Bring her here,” Hybern orders. He sounds like an irritated father dealing with a toddler’s temper tantrum, his booming voice echoing off the domed ceiling.
There’s only one Priestess about, her blonde hair slipping out from underneath her soft blue hood, a circlet atop her pale face. She frowns when she sees you, as if you are the worst thing in the Temple, even though its battered walls are full of soldiers bearing Hybern’s sigil.
“No manners on this one, I see,” the priestess says.
Hybern frowns as he strokes a hand over his bearded chin. “Too much spirit in all the wrong places.”
“Get your fucking hands off me!” You scream as one of the soldiers snags your ankle and drags you across the rough stones. It’s only then that you get a glimpse of an altar, old as time, the stones covered in dripping candle wax. Atop the cracked, ageless stones, a giant, black cauldron sits, green mist slipping from the top.
You freeze, claws still digging into the floor, momentarily keeping you in place. Not any cauldron, the Cauldron. Just like your dreams. As if it’s sentient, as if it can sense your unease, a voice from within the bottomless chamber whispers, “Come, come Daughter of the Void, come and see what I have in store for you.”
A shiver crawls its way up your spine and you throw yourself away from it as best you can. No one else seems to notice the voice, perhaps it is a message for you and you alone.
You poke at the bond again, making one last ditch attempt to reach your mate, but there is only cold, emptiness between the two of you. Despite all his promises, he’s too far away to save you.
“Stop this!” Hybern booms.
“Fuck you!” You shout back as you manage to free your ankle from a soldier’s grip and land a kick square in his nose. Blood splatters across your exposed leg as you twist, arms screaming in protest as you bring your knee into the next one’s groin.
Despite your best efforts, all Hybern has to do is reach out, and some great, invisible hand yanks you across the floor until you slam into the altar. When you try to stand, that hand holds you down with enough force to make the air leave your lungs in a terrible wheeze.
“Enough, daughter.”
“I’m not your daughter!” You snarl.
The priestess eyes you curiously, her pale blue eyes on your chest, where Rhys’s jacket no longer covers you, the too big sleeves sliding off your shoulders. She frowns as she steps closer. “Why is your chest glamored?”
Hybern’s power will not release you, even as he steps closer to get a better look.
The slide across the floor tore up the back of your thighs, your skin raw as you fight in vain to move away.
Shit shit shit.
Hybern crouches in front of you, and it’s only now you notice how armed his soldiers are behind him, swords in hand, ready to run you through if they think their king is in danger.
“Drop the glamor.”
“Eat shit!” You can’t move your hands, can’t kick out with your legs, and he’s not close enough to use your teeth, but that doesn’t stop you from spitting directly in his face.
In retaliation, that great power pinning you to the floor lifts you up, just to slam you back down, your head clacking against the altar so hard spots swim across your vision.
“Last chance to spare yourself,” Hybern warns.
You grit your teeth and snarl as many curses as you can think of and you're rewarded with an even more forceful drop, once, twice, and a third. You think you might have bitten your tongue, the coppery tang of blood heavy in your mouth, but the room spins so much you can’t be sure. But still, the glamor remains in place. You can hold it, you know you can, Rhys had prepared you more than you’d realized at the time. You hold onto that. Maybe Rhys cannot be here to physically save you, but all he’s taught you still remains at your disposal.
That power holding you lifts enough for you to finally, mercifully, take a full breath, only for it to shift into something else. What was once a crushing weight quickly morphs into a blasting wind, whipping back and forth over your exposed skin so hard and fast it tears the collar off your jacket. Hybern’s soldiers crouch back, holding onto the walls for support as that wind wraps itself around you like a serpent. Like phantom hands, the wind tears at the magic you’ve bound around yourself, as harsh and sharp as the twins attempt to get into your mind. It takes all your energy to keep the glamor up, to fight against it. You have no real knowledge how to throw out your own power as anything more than a shield, but you do know how to take. You let those phantom hands reach for you, your eyes falling shut, your attempts at pushing it away forgotten. You draw a breath, steadying yourself, willing yourself to open up to the fall.
“Come, come to me, Little Thief,” the Cauldron calls as your powers swim to the surface. “Come show me what you can steal.”
You are not helpless, you are not a mouse as Amarantha so likes to call you, you are a goddess caged in flesh, a storm housed within a body. This power can be yours as easily as it can be his. The thrashing of the wind stills for a moment, you can feel the ebb of it beneath your skin as it syncs to your heartbeat. You grab a tendril of it in your fingers, bending it to your will, and for a moment, for a moment all that terrible power belongs to you.
“Do you think me so feeble, daughter?” Hybern snarls and all of a sudden that power tears itself from your grip and lashes against you in earnest.
Your body jerks in its grip, the beating of it verging on pain now, your skin stinging. No matter how hard you try to grab it, it continues to slip through your fingers, leaving your only option to try and keep the glamor up at all costs. For maybe a minute or two you manage to fight it, pushing the wind away from the ink on your skin, but in the end, there is just too much of it. When the wind lets up and you hit the floor, the glamor is gone, and both your bargain marks are on full display.
“Night Court,” the priestess hisses.
Your heart drops into your stomach as Hybern studies the markings, his disdain palpable. Maybe you’re not so good at this after all.
“What deal did you make with that whore?” He hisses.
Your fangs slip out as your lips pull back in a snarl, “Stop calling him that!”
The priestess laughs, the sound shrill and irreverent in a space like this. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the bastard?”
“Ianthe,” Hybern warns and the priestess clamps her mouth shut. “Tell me what you’ve done, so I can undo it.”
Undo it. The words clang through you like an alarm bell and you push yourself upright, body screaming in protest until you’re flush against the altar. He can’t be serious. It could kill you! Worse, it could kill Rhys.
You instinctively clutch a hand over the flower inked into your chest.
“What did you bargain?” Hybern demands.
There are no thoughts in your head, no clever lies to save you, there is only the bubbling panic that something terrible is about to happen and you’re powerless to stop it, no matter what you’re made of.
“Please, don’t,” you whimper.
“What did you bargain?” Hybern shouts.
The Cauldron continues to whisper and hiss above your head, the strange mist turning the room eerie shades. Everything looks a little distorted and hazy.
“I vowed to kill Amarantha,” you stutter. Maybe the truth will save you, he did say he wanted her dead. “In exchange for some help and training.” No need to mention the moving into the Night Court with its High Lord thing.
“And?”
Together. A promise that there would be an after to look forward to, a future with no Amarantha, no Mountain, no pain. Tears prick the corners of your eyes. It’s not supposed to be like this! You never should have gotten out of bed, maybe if you had stayed in Rhys’s room, Hybern wouldn’t have found you at all. You’d still be with your mate, still working towards your freedom. It would be a cage, but you’d be together, as you promised. But now the ink on your palm is strangely cold, compared to the warmth that should be there.
“That’s all,” you lie and your reward is a backhanded slap across the face.
You grit your teeth; Amarantha has done worse to you, you can endure this.
“In the end, it doesn’t matter,” Hybern says, fixing the rumpled sleeves of his shirt. “If it kills Rhysand, I’m doing you a favor.”
“No!” It’s all you manage to get out before a stab of pain flairs beneath your skin. It’s subtle for a brief second, Hybern’s powers testing the strength of the marks, before it turns violent. Almost immediately, it begins to feel as if your palm and chest are tearing itself apart, splitting open. Black dots swirl across your vision, as the pain becomes white hot. At some point you begin screaming, for yourself, for the pain, for your mate.
“Stop! Please! NO!” The words jumble out of you in a rush. This can’t be happening! Dark mist seeps from your skin, claws and fangs tearing free from your hold on them as your body tries to fight him for you. The Temple rumbles and the Priestess starts muttering a prayer that makes the Cauldron bubble and hiss.
The room spins. Your body jerks, limbs twitching uncontrollably. “Stop!”
He’s going to kill you. All for his stupid war.
“Please,” you’re dimly aware that your claws are scratching at the flower on your chest, as if you can hold it in place, keep the bond from slipping through your fingers. Your tears burn as they slide down your cheeks. What will happen to your mating bond if he breaks this? The two are so tangled together, will it kill the both of you? “Please, stop!”
But Hybern pays your pleas no mind, powers holding you down as the pain becomes so unbearable you heave. Nothing Amarantha has done to you compares to this. This makes her look like a saint.
With one final, mind numbing crack, both bonds snap, the ink fading from your skin as you collapse against the floor. It’s cold, the rough stone biting into limbs that no longer feel connected to your body. The rise and fall of your chest feels like something has been carved from your body.
“I’m doing this for your own good, Y/N,” Hybern says.
You’ve ended up on your back, teary eyes staring through a hole in the ceiling, where the first glitter of stars shine through. “Rhys,” you whimper.
“It would only slow you down.” Hands slide under your shoulders and knees, calluses scraping against the open wounds the stones have made against your thighs. You don’t have the presence of mind to squirm, to fight, limbs still feeling like they’ve come disconnected from your body. “This is the only way for you to be free.”
Free. It’s such an empty word. You’re never really going to be free.
“Come, come, come,” beckons the Cauldron as it comes into view.
Hybern holds you over the rim, dark eyes impassive. “You will thank me for this one day.” And then he drops you in.
------
You’re drowning. Icy water tearing through your throat, pushing down your nose. Your arms won’t work, won’t let you flail back to the surface; legs unable to find a bottom. For something so outwardly small, there should be a bottom, but nothing ever rises to meet you. There are no walls to claw at, no bottom to push off of, there is only the icy water shoving its way inside your very being until it swallows you whole.
------
The world feels different when you come to, surrounded by a puddle of icy water on the floor like the Cauldron had been tipped over to dump your body out. You might be tempted to ask if you were dead, were it not for the pair of boots tapping against the stones in front of your head impatiently. Hard to imagine Hybern would be waiting for you in the afterlife.
It hurts to breathe, like there are shards of ice in your lungs and throat as you cough up some inky, black water onto the King’s boots. He doesn’t flinch away, even as you hurl your guts out.
“Are you done?” He asks.
You glance up at him through the wet strands of your hair that cling to your face. “Fuck you!” Your voice is different, a booming echo that sounds like it’s being screamed inside a cavern. The walls shake when you speak. Stranger still, it is not a single set of fangs you feel scrape past your lips when you snarl, but a whole set of jagged teeth. When you raise your hands to poke at them, your skin is once again an empty, black void, contained within the shape of your body. Your claws are shrouded in a black mist that drifts from your depthless skin.
“What did you do to me?”
Hybern crouches as and grabs the chain that still dangles from your throat, but when he gives it a pull, it feels as if it has become attached to your skin! There is no room between the collar and your throat, as if it had fused to your body, the tug the same tingling sensation you’d get if someone had pulled on your hair.
“You should show me your thanks,” he snarls. “I’ve freed you from the restrictions your uncle put on you as a child.”
You wince as he yanks you to your feet, limbs a little longer now than they used to be. Everything feels sharper. The pounding of the soldiers’ hearts are a drum beat in your ears. Their every breath feels like a scream. Your eyes burn under the faint candlelight, as if they’re not made to be in anything other than pure darkness.
“And now,” he snarls, pulling you close. “You’ll do as I say.”
You have every intention to get your hands on his chest and shove him, to fight back against the harsh hold he keeps on you, but you can’t. Your body stills, mid snarl, like it’s frozen.
Hybern grins as he watches your confusion, callused hand reaching out to brush your cheek. “Do you understand why those bargains couldn’t be there now?”
“What did you do?” You hiss.
He tugs the collar, earning another hiss of pain. “Ianthe used some spells for me, while you were under. Since I touched you last, the collar fused my will to you. If those bonds were still forged, well, you might have only answered to Rhysand.”
Your mind spins, body trembling. What has he done?
“I think you need a demonstration,” he says, turning to glance at his men, then back at you. “Kill them.”
Warmth emanates from the collar in a steady thrum, prompting you forward, whispering like the Cauldron had before you had been dumped in. No matter how hard you try to escape it, the collar only allows you to move in the way you’re ordered too. Despite all your protests, your claw tipped hand raises from your side, dark mist dripping from your fingers.
No. No. No! This is a bad dream.
And yet, you can’t even force your eyes shut, to look away from the carnage your body creates when that black mist gets directed at the line of terrified soldiers pressed against the wall. One moment there’s twenty men gaping at you, the next, there’s nothing but a fine mist of blood splattered against the Temple’s wall.
Nausea rolls in your gut, but you can’t even bend over to vomit.
“Was that so hard?”
This can’t be real. It can’t. You need to wake up.
Hybern tugs on your collar, demanding you look at him. “Was that so hard, daughter?”
You open your mouth to protest, but that same warm thrum from the collar stops the words in your throat. No matter how hard you try, you can’t raise your hands to try and pull it off your skin; if there’s a way to fight it, your body refuses to let you try and find it. When the collar, imbued with whatever spells they’d put into it while you were inside the Cauldron, doesn’t will it, your body will not push back against it. You can’t even cry as you want, all the emotions trapped within your body as if you’re inside your own walking tomb.
And Hybern, the man who’s supposed to be your father, laughs when you don’t answer. Laughs that he’s stolen your agency, your powers, you’re life for his own agendas.
“The Cauldron will need time to recharge before we get to the Wall,” Ianthe muses.
“We won’t need it to get through the Wall,” he returns. “Y/N will do all the work for us.”
She frowns as she takes you in. “What of Amarantha?”
Hybern tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he leans in, breath hot and unpleasant against your, now sensitive, skin. “For fighting me,” he hisses, “you’re going to go back Under the Mountain and kill all of them.”
------------------------------------------------
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Enemies with Benefits
Part 7
Previous part here
……………………………………………………………………………
“Thirty-five.”
“Fifty.”
“Thirty-eight.”
“Fifty.”
“Forty.”
“Fifty.”
Pausing, Tommy slowly released a breath before inhaling deeply and then speaking once more.
“Forty-five.”
“Fifty, or I walk, Shelby.”
Y/N leaned back in the chair in front of Tommy’s desk, definitively crossing her arms and holding his gaze with a look of sheer determination. As she spoke his name, Tommy smiled in amusement.
“What happened to ‘Mr.’ Shelby?” he asked.
“Gloves are off now, so we can forego the formalities,” Y/N replied as she continued to stare back at him. “Besides, fewer syllables to address you means I can insult you faster.”
Tommy’s smile widened.
“Well, in that case, ‘Tommy’ has the same number of syllables as ‘Shelby’, you know,” he said, tilting his head.
“We’re not friends,” she reminded him yet again. “Now stop sidetracking. The fact is, I made that place what it is. I’m the reason it’s successful. That doesn’t suddenly change just because you stole the place from me and now your name is on the paperwork.”
Tommy’s expression returned to a serious one.
“I didn’t steal it from you, Y/N,” he said. “In fact, some might say I saved it for you.”
Arching an eyebrow, Y/N crossed her legs.
“Or, you know, led me on, intentionally kept me in the dark, and then pulled the rug out from under me...however you want to word it,” she said sarcastically as she stared back at him. She knew there was validity to his statement, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing with it.
“Y/N, that’s not—”
“Don’t try and make yourself out to be a hero,” she said, cutting him off. “Now, you want me to still run the place for you? Then I get fifty percent of the income.”
Tommy stared back at her for a tense moment. They’d already agreed to other changes to the contract between them, but this was the biggest point to be settled.
“Forty-seven,” he countered once more.
“Good luck finding my replacement,” Y/N said as she grabbed her bag off his desk and rose from her chair. As she made to turn around, Tommy spoke.
“Alright, fine,” he said, his voice stopping her before she reached the door. “Fifty percent. But that’s after all monthly expenses are met and employees are paid, not before.”
Slowly turning back around, Y/N gracefully walked back to the chair she’d been occupying and sat down again.
“And the accounts for the place will all remain in my name, so that I have access to them and can make sure you’re not moving money around behind my back,” she said. “We’ll add you as an account holder, but with monitoring privileges only – no transactions can be made by you.”
Tommy scoffed and shook his head.
“That’s not very reasonable, love,” he said. “As the owner, I’ll have expenses to pay.”
Y/N continued to look at him.
“I’m your manager; I’ll handle all that. You need something, you come to me and I’ll write the check. In return, I’ll provide you with a receipt or invoice for every withdrawal we make, so you know exactly where your money went.”
Tommy shook his head again.
“And you think I’m going to forever forfeit to you the access to my own money?” he asked her in disbelief.
“No, not forever,” Y/N replied, now also shaking her head. “Just for the next six months.”
Tommy furrowed his brow.
“What?” he said.
“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Y/N responded.
Uncrossing her legs, she scooted forward to perch on the edge of her chair before she continued talking.
“If you still want me to also help you turn the other clubs around, you’re going to have to be willing to potentially give my club back to me.”
“What?” Tommy said again, his face full of confusion.
“If you want me to turn those other clubs around, you’re going to have to agree to a little bet,” Y/N said to him.
It was Tommy’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
“What kind of bet?” he said to her.
“Some of those places are pretty far gone, and there are also a few that, even though they’re popular, they’re barely breaking even,” Y/N began. “We’d be lucky to see a surplus from any of them within the next six months, regardless of what we do to set them straight.”
“I’m aware of that, love,” Tommy nodded slowly.
“However, with some hard work, it can be done,” Y/N continued. “And I know you want to see a return on your investments as soon as possible. So...”
She leaned forward even more and rested her hands on Tommy’s desk, looking him straight in the eye.
“If I get at least five of the ten places bringing in a minimum fifty percent increase in profit within the next six months, then you give me back my club. Full ownership, no strings attached, completely mine again. You’ll still benefit from whatever work I do to the other ten places, and those will all still be yours, but if I make them successful enough, then I get my place back.”
Tommy held her gaze.
“And if you don’t?” he asked.
“If I don’t, you’ll still be benefitting from whatever work I do. You’ll also keep my club, and I’ll still stay on as your manager. I’ll also agree to turn over the accounts to you at that time and accept a monthly salary of whatever the average is of what you pay me over the next six months.”
Slowly, a smile began to spread across Tommy’s face. She was biting off more than she could chew. As good as she was, a fifty percent increase in six months was asking a lot, especially for multiple locations. As much determination as he knew she had, he didn’t see it happening. But he could enjoy watching her try. And he’d still have her when it was over, and in more ways than one, if he had anything to say about it.
“Alright, love, but I’ve got an edit for you,” he said.
Y/N crossed her arms over her chest.
“This is an all or nothing offer,” she replied. “You either agree, or I walk away.”
Tommy shook his head.
“It’s not a change to the stakes; it’s an addition of my own term,” he said.
Y/N cocked her head.
“And that would be?”
Tommy smiled again.
“During all this, you agree to ten dates with me. I choose the day, time, and place, and we go out together. You show up, we talk, have a good time, and I pay the bill.”
Y/N raised her eyebrows as she digested what he said. Was he seriously trying to get her to agree to date him while all this went down?
“Are you serious?” she said.
“How else am I going to convince you that I’m not as horrible as you think I am? Who knows, we may even have you calling me ‘Tommy’ by the time it’s all over,” he replied.
The adorable way he smiled as he said that nearly made Y/N smile herself.
“Don’t count on it,” she said, and the smile escaped her lips as a smirk.
“Well, we’re gonna find out,” Tommy replied. “You want me to agree to your terms? Then you agree to mine.”
He extended his hand across his desk to her, waiting for her to shake it. After hesitating for another moment, Y/N finally reached out and met his hand with hers.
“Good,” Tommy said as he released her hand. “Now that that’s taken care of, let’s finish up this contract, shall we?”
He gestured over to the laptop she’d brought with her, which was sitting beside them on the desk.
“I emailed the draft to you earlier,” he said. “Go ahead and open it and make the changes we discussed. Then we’ll add in a section about these new conditions before we print it off.”
As Y/N opened the laptop and pulled up his email, she recognized the document that Polly had given her the week prior. Going through it, she entered in the changes that she and Tommy had agreed to. However, as she came to the part that discussed what she’d be paid for continuing to manage the club, she saw that the line was no longer blank, as it had been when Polly had shown it to her. Rather than waiting to be filled in with whatever amount they’d agreed upon, Tommy had already entered that she’d be receiving fifty percent.
Y/N lifted her head and looked up at Tommy, who was looking at his phone.
“You already entered my percentage here as fifty percent,” she said to him.
“Yep,” Tommy replied, still focused on his phone.
“Wait, so you’d already decided to give me fifty?”
Setting his phone down, Tommy looked at her, simply smiling in response.
Y/N furrowed her brow.
“Why did you have me going back and forth with you, then?” she asked, unsure how to process the surprising fact that he’d decided ahead of time to split things evenly with her.
Still smiling, Tommy held her gaze.
“Just wanted to see if you were as strong of a negotiator as I guessed you were,” he answered.
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Okay apparently I'm going to do a study on this introduction, because going back to it? Especially knowing more about Hakuba via more recent Magic Kaito chapters? Fascinating stuff.
So. Hakuba's introducing himself, and he starts out by bringing up "My father spoke of you often" and "It seems you're a very sharp detective." Both of those are positive!
Hakuba is... high society, compared to Hattori simply hanging out around high ranking people and treating them like normal. Hattori argues with Kazuha in a very down to earth way, while Hakuba knows how to drink tea and probably how to set the table with a full set of cutlery (or at least how to use them).
So, Hakuba using their fathers to introduce himself is, to him, a normal enough way to say "I've heard good things about you, we're similar, I hope we can get along well."
What's more - Shinichi realises that, pretty quickly. Even if they hadn't met previously, he'd have been able to figure out by the words being used, that Saguru's father knows Heiji's father, or that they're in the same business.
If anything, I'd say that this slight culture clash is the second step of things going wrong between Hattori and Hakuba here, right after Hakuba being present at all, since Hattori had wanted Shinichi to take his rightful place where Hakuba is currently sitting.
Strike one, strike two.
Unfortunately, it gets worse from there, and I'm gonna go into it.
But then Hakuba brings up that he's not even fully based in Japan. To which, mostly Hattori is just "wait, what?" - but although I'm sure he means it simply to be as clear as possible, that could also be read as "I would say that, but I'm actually better." As in, being smug.
Strike three.
Still with "Kudo is the high school detective of the east, that's obvious, isn't it?" and rubbing salt into the insult to Hattori's bro with "they'd have liked me to represent the east in his place" but...
Oh boy.
This... this is also where I just stared and held my head in my hands because now? Because of something Hattori's said, and what he's going to continue saying/leaning into... we need to go back in time.
All the way back in Hakuba Saguru's first appearance, the papers say "just returned from London," suggesting (as I've seen someone say before) that he'd spent at least some, if not much, of his youth in Japan.
Certainly, he doesn't seem to speak with an accent in the present day, so he can't have grown up in the UK and only sometimes lived in Japan.
In Japan, however, he is referred to as...
In Nakamori's (uncouth) words at their first meeting, "Y-you're that bastard from London!"
No mention of how he has a fully Japanese name, partially Japanese features, a Japanese father, and no accent.
His introductory splash also frames him with the Union Jack behind him, showing off his Holmes cosplay and light hair. Almost all the major characters in the series have blue eyes, but here it's rather... plainly emphasising his Western features. His non-Japanese-ness.
Now, I do have to wonder if Gosho wrote that back in 1990 and hadn't given much thought to it. I certainly don't think it was intentionally cruel.
However, by volume 40, released in 2003, he's learned a bit more about social prejudice, and shows this with the Professor's First Love story:
This shows something that happened 40 years ago in-universe, with a girl of Japanese-American descent who has light, gingko colour hair, being very aware of how different she is, and not wanting her friend to see. She calls her hair "weird" and starts to cry.
Coming back to the present - content released in 2006 - let me go back to Hakuba Saguru.
Hattori "That's obvious, isn't it? And yer not even from this country to begin with."
Oh, Hattori. Only the previous case had you seeing how words can be as sharp as knives, and can hurt people.
Saguru doesn't seem too bothered at first, however...
First off, he points out that it isn't even his fault he's "taken Kudo's place" in the first place!
They contacted his housekeeper, who he's been shown to be very close with (I'd hazard a guess to say that, having not seen his mother at all, or seen her mentioned, Baaya is closer to him than his parents are), and when she heard that her charge would only be taking someone else's place since they weren't there, she got offended on his behalf.
Saguru, who loves this woman like she's literally his nanny, could hardly say no at that point.
More to the point: how he says "But it appears I am unfit to represent the East..."
So now we have Hattori having come in wanting his best friend to be represented and not sidelined just because of circumstances out of his control, and being in a bad mood immediately because of someone else having been called in. He also possibly inflates the number of cases he worked on or solved, by including childhood adventures, leading Saguru to point out that his count is only low if you only count the ones in one country. Saguru attempts to make friends with him regardless, and that doesn't work because Hattori is still stuck on how Saguru is "taking Kudo's place" and then focuses in on how Saguru "isn't even from this country" which... starts leaning into the uncomfortable territory of "Hattori I love you to pieces but are you being racist/xenophobic right now?"
I say that in the context of how Japan has a really big problem with seeing anyone who isn't fully Japanese as Not Japanese Enough, as I went into earlier. I don't think he's aware how he's coming across, by the way; he's simply got a big case of foot-in-mouth.
So now instead of having come to this conclusion organically and naturally, Saguru is offering to take the place of "Guest Participant from Overseas" to placate Hattori.
I'd imagine he won't be wanting to tell Baaya about that, for sure.
Saguru goes on to suggest that Conan (i.e, Shinichi himself) should represent the East instead.
I reiterate: they could well have come to this conclusion over a friendly conversation, because of how they have five detectives. But instead now Saguru has ceded his position to (as far as he knows) a child. A very clever child, but a child nonetheless.
The next time we're back at the island with Hattori and the others, he's already decided he doesn't like "that smug guy."
As said before, there are plenty of things that Hattori could have picked up on that'd suggest Saguru "looked down on people" and "had a prideful way of thinking" and he certainly could appear smug in his achievements.
Hattori himself says that Saguru was "was like a copy of [Kudo]." But he has decided he doesn't like Hakuba, therefore he won't like Hakuba.
A moment of Saguru bonding with Natsuki over their natural brown hair, a shared trait - we can see him smiling after saying "But... there aren't any tv cameras yet, so you could do what you want for tonight?"
In a way I feel like I'm making too much of a big deal out of this one thing, but I'm not the one bringing attention to it - Gosho is. Gosho's the one who reminds us that kids get into trouble for their natural brown hair, and Saguru got that too.
Those who've read Magic Kaito will know that he DOES have a Japanese school uniform - but as we saw at the start of the post, when he arrived, he arrived from his school in London.
This further emphasises how he's set apart from the others.
(An aside: it's entirely possible that his "school abroad" is more likely him going to sixth form, since our Secondary schools last (or did for me) up to the age of 16, and depending on the time of year he may have transferred over to the new school year already. Or he's just finishing his last year of Secondary. We don't know.)
Honestly... I'm going to leave this at that for now, because for one thing the post got away from me a bit, and became longer than I expected, and for another thing, I've covered the majority of the first meeting and both of them getting off on the wrong foot.
In short:
Hattori arrived with an idea of slipping Shinichi into the event, and was offended and upset when someone was already in his place. He, being the loyal friend he is, wasn't willing to simply let it lie.
Instead of backing down and accepting the situation and make friends with the new detective - who Shinichi knew and was acting friendly with, and who was willing to befriend him - he let his bad mood get the better of him and made offensive remarks of his own, most of which to the others would seem entirely unwarranted.
Because of that, Hattori still has a bad opinion of Saguru, and Saguru's opinion of Hattori has gone from "my father's spoken of you [positively]" to "rude asshole."
Neither of them are innocent, but when you look at them individually and fairly, neither of them are the only one in the wrong, either.
Like... no wonder they don't get along from here on? Wow.
I did not expect there to be so much in it, but there we go.
#dcmk stuff#leona rereads dcmk#dcmk#hakuba saguru#hattori heiji#[head in hands] these two...#hattori I love you but pls
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𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐)
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : billie eilish x fem!reader
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Claire is best friends with billie eilish but what happens when she finds out she has a song written about their complicated relationship
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : alcohol
PART 1 HERE
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Obviously it is…” she then rambled on about everything until she got shut up with a kiss…
Claire pulled away instantly… shocked. She wasn’t expecting the girl to kiss her. Not that she didn’t want to kiss Billie. She wanted to talk. She wanted to understand the other girl's point of view.
“I shouldn’t have done that” Claire was stunned with tears in her eyes. She felt a sense of guilt and worry. . “I…” speechless was all she felt.
“Let’s just speak” with that Billie pulled Claire outside into her garden. People were dotted around smoking, drinking or just chatting near the pool.
The girls sat down together under a tree. A decorated blossom tree that the girls used to sit under all the time and write together. It held special memories for the both of them. To others it was just a blossom tree that stood in the corner of her garden. The garden was lit up with fairy lights scattered around to create a homely feel.
“Talk to me”
Claire was pretty straight forward when it came to confrontation. She knew it could be positive or negative but preferred to talk to others about how each of them feel rather than pushing them away and never solving whatever was happening. Years ago Claire used to push away anyone that became close to her; she never spoke to anyone about how she felt and thought it was easier to not mention it than speak. It was a way of protecting herself from many previous friendships or relationships that had negative impacts on anyone she tried to speak to before either shut her down or not listen to her at all. Billie opened up to her one day about something that was going on in her life. It made her realize that talking is better than ignoring everything with the right people. She was grateful for it, it taught her to keep in touch with people more and that it made everything feel more relaxing and mature.
The girl sighed before speaking…“Lunch is about you. I’ve liked you for ages. I wanted to tell you straight up but I was already writing the lyrics to lunch as a way to express my feelings in my diary but I tried to push everything down and away thinking that it was silly and that it would ruin our friendship. I mean my family already loves you, and I don’t want anything to change between us. The song was me expressing my feelings of what went on between us that one night. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Finneas said he could tell I liked you after that night. He knew everything by just watching the way we interacted”
“I understand where you’re coming from but you could have just told me”
Claire leaned close to Billie’s face making intense eye contact while flicking her eyes down to her lips. “I like you too Bil” The two girls kissed, both giggling in between.
“Hor-fucking-ay” they snapped their heads toward the boy stood across the garden who was walking towards them.
“It was about time this happened” Finneas sat down next to them, jokingly ruining the moment. He joined them both sat under the tree. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life… Anyone could see how in love you two were” Billie pushed his head while all 3 of them laughed in unison just enjoying the moment of her favorite people being in the same place.
“I’m off. Proud of you both” with that Claire got up and walked back into the house but not before pecking Billie on the lips which caused Finneas to fake gag.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The next day Claire couldn’t stop smiling. She danced around the house to the newly released album attempting to sing the lyrics until she heard her doorbell ring. Claire walked towards the door unlocking it to reveal the ocean eyed girl.
“Hey” “Hey!”. The two walked toward the living room both throwing themselves on the couch. It was silent. Not an awkward silence but a comforting silence until Claire started giggling.
“What are you laughing at?” Billie replied with a laugh. The girl didn’t answer but kept laughing which caused the other girl to start tickling her.
“Stop Bil stop, I can't breathe, '' the girl said in between breaths. Suddenly the girls' faces were close together and soon closed the gap.
“I love you” Billie smiled ear to ear “I love you too.”...
Liked by billieeilish, radvxz and 1,394,304 others
claire: oh i love you miss.
billieeilish: i love you.
user: THE LAST PIC... HELLO?
A/N : idk what to write for part 3 so might leave it as this for now 😔 TYSM FOR THE LOVE xx
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Ruin
Author’s Note: Deimos part three! I hope you enjoy :D first. Previous
Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel@whorety-k
Warnings: threatening, blackmail, Alpha Legion Shenanigans
Summary: Deimos speaks to one of the human representatives during the negotiations. He gets what he wants.
Deimos had been watching the negotiations between some of the leaders of the most powerful Astartes pods speaking with representatives of the human countries of Terra for the past several days. At the end of each day. Deimos would send coded information as to how things had been going to his handler, and waiting to see if his instructions would change based on the information that he had gathered.
He also spent time pretend-obliviously making one of the human representatives squirm and sweat each time they saw the face or heard the voice of the Blood Angel Sergeant he was pretending to be, as Representative Pearson was part of a least two different human organizations who had successfully captured different Astartes in order to dissect and experiment upon them… And because the sergeant he was pretending to be had recently been captured by one of Pearson’s groups using information that the human had himself given them.
The Alpha Legion had been content to let their cousins flounder in confusion as to what was happening to some of their legions/chapters. If they weren’t aware enough of the dangers that baseline humanity could be to them, that wasn’t their problem… That had been until one of these groups had captured a hybrid hydra pup, the first Alpha legionnaire born on Ancient Terra to a converted human mate and stolen a week ago.
That was the last mistake any of these groups would make, not that those who were outside of those facilities were aware of the storm that had swallowed most of their resources in righteous fury. All captive astartes were being tended to by Alpha Legion Apothecaries and would be released after the conclusion of these negotiations. Deimos glided gracefully after Representative Pearson, who had finally worked up the courage to ask for a private meeting between himself and the baseline human.
“What is it that you wanted to speak with me about?” Deimos asked, using the lilting tones of the Blood Angel he was pretending to be, amused at the way that the baseline human froze, blinking off the siren-like qualities a moment later.
“You are an imposter. You should leave quietly, or I will escalate the matter to security.” Pearson accused, pointing his finger dramatically at Deimos.
The Alpha Legionnaire almost broke character and started to cackle. If this was the way that Pearson wanted to play things, Deimos was happy to indulge him. “And just why do you think I am an imposter? What proof could you possibly have?”
“Because I received a report earlier this week about a mer matching your precise description being badly injured and brought to a medical facility for treatment. I have heard of the incredible healing factors you astartes possess, but the injuries that Astartes had suffered could not have healed as fully as you appear to be in such short period of time. Which means you are an imposter and should leave these negotiations.” Pearson explained, radiating smug satisfaction.
Deimos’ couldn’t help the small, fanged grin that appeared on his face as he purred “And?”
“And if you do not leave immediately I will alert security as to you being here under false circumstances and -” The baseline human blustered.
Deimos interrupted Pearson’s rant with a laugh “What makes you think that I have no right to be here? Especially since you were the one to leak the battle brother’s whose face I am borrowing’s location to the butchers and kidnappers who tormented him… Ah, but he is no longer in their grasp. None of the astartes that the little groups you work with are still captive. My brothers have rescued them all. Your little groups of maniacs fear that we astartes will try and take dominance of this world from you. Because of our strength and our abilities. But you're wrong. If we wanted dominion over this world we would have it already and none of the weapons nor all your military might would be enough to stop us.”
“I.. You accuse me of-” Pearson started, huffing up in indignation and distilled terror.
The Alpha legionnaire interrupted the baseline human again as he pulled out a series of pictures proving that Person was knowingly and willingly involved several of the Astartes kidnapping groups, setting them down on the table between them as he spoke “Drop the pretenses. I have more evidence of your crimes and wrongdoing on me, and there are copies in case you attempt to destroy this evidence.” Deimos was one piece of the Hydra. His legion worked in the shadows and gathered information. They knew all and saw all. “Step down from your position now, and publicly resign in front of the press at this event and explain your crimes and your true loyalties… If you refuse I’ll tell the World Eater and Black Templar representatives who you truly work with.”
“... If you do that, those blood-thirsty monster swill try-” The human protested.
“Will kill you for your crimes. Of course. That would be a mercy. Some of the pods represented here would make your death a long and agonizing spectacle. World Eaters and Black Templars both tend to make their kills swift.” Deimos rumbled, cutting off the human yet again and smirking down at him.
“How dare you threaten and attempt to blackmail me like this? Photos like this can be altered to seem incriminating!” Pearson blustered, fear and fury radiating off of him in waves.
“There are ways to check for tampering. Besides, these photos are the least of the proof I have for your crimes. Do as I say, or you will die by the end of this day. This is not a threat but a promise. Besides, you won’t be the only wretched mortal to die for your crimes today if you refuse to step down.” Deimos hummed, pulling out a small laptop, opening the video conference software and calling out “Alpharius, I have the human representative with me.”
“Well done Alpharius.” His captain praised, swimming into frame with two of the other leaders of the organizations being dragged into frame with him. Behind the older Alpha Legionnaire were dozens of gagged and bound hand to foot humans, all members of the kidnapping organizations in the room the captain was in. “You see, we have many of those involved in the kidnappings who still yet live. You have a simple choice, Representative Pearson. Confess your crime sin front of the cameras and our fellow astartes, and submit yourself for judgment…. Or you and all of the humans here will die.”
“I… You… How… How have you done this?” Pearson asks, helpless rage and terror wafting off of him in waves.
“We are Alpharius. We are the Hydra at the heart of everything. No detail is too small to escape our grasp. Our eyes see all, as our ears hear all. If we wanted to control this world, we’d have it already. So, representative, what is your choice?” The captain purred, smirking.
“I… I’ll…” Pearson swallows, staring at the other humans bound and at the mercy of astartes. He hangs his head and growls out “I’ll do as you’ve demanded of me, you bastards. Damn you all to hell!”
“Been there. Got bored. Came back.” Deimos cooed, smirking. “No time like the present, let’s go. Be seeing you, captain Alpharius.” with that he shut the laptop and placed it in a pouch before scruffing the unhappy human by the collar and dragging him bodily out of the chair, swimming out of the room and over to where the press were gathered. He knew that the other Astartes would be able to hear Pearson’s confession… This was going to be fun.
~
Five minutes later found Pearson standing on his own two feet, Deimos staying just close enough to encourage the human to speak without tipping off the press of just what the human was going to confess to.
“I… have… I have a confession to make. I have been working with a secret group of scientists, doctors and hunters to capture and study Astartes. I am well aware of the fact that these kidnappings have made Human-Astartes relations worse the world over… The organization’s goals were to assess the threat posed by Astartes, as well as to try and figure out the keys to their longevity and high healing factor. To be able to synthesize either of those abilities for humanity to use. We also hoped to be able to take apart Astartes’ technology and reverse engineer it for profit.” Pearson confessed, having hid his hands behind his back, to hide the way they trembled “I have realized now that this was wrong, and am stepping down from my position as representative, and submit myself to the justice system of my home country.”
Deimos had expected that Pearson would try to pull something like that. It was almost cute that he thought he was living past this next hour as a free person, and that he would be allowed to be tried by one of the human legal systems. Already the Alpha legionnaire could hear furious shouting from loyalists, chaos and renegade astartes. He could smell their rapid approach to this conference room, the scent of their fury and determination heavy in the air as they barrelled into the room.
All of them stopped dead, seeing Deimos in the guise of a Blood Angel as he stood directly behind the violently shaking and terrified human. Before any of them could try and demand something he said on external vox “As Pearson has wronged the Astartes more, his request for being tried by humanity is rejected. I will be taking him to where he will be tried and punished for his crimes.”
The assembled humans burst into dozens and dozens of loud statements and noises, each desperately trying to get his or the other astartes attention. Not that Deimos was actively listening to what they were saying, just making sure that they weren’t trying to get close enough to grab Pearson and attempt to get away from him.
He waited a beat before broadcasting his voice to the voxes of his fellow astartes alone, his eyes deliberately flashing teal as he purred “Hydra Dominatus.” Before he scooped up Pearson and swum off at his top speed, cackling to himself as the human in his arms whimpered and shook.
#cw blackmail#cw threats#alpha legion shenanigans#alpha legion#my writing#warhammer 40k#Celestial Seas AU
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Bridgerton, season 3
Today, on May 21st, I finally allowed myself to watch the first episode. I must say, I hadn't planned to wait this long, but I wasn't in the mood for a historical romance, I suppose.
I was initially excited to binge-watch the first part of the season as soon as I found out the release date. I even scheduled an exam for an earlier date to avoid stressing about finals on the day of the Bridgerton release. However, when the 16th arrived, I just… wasn't in the mood. Since then, my excitement never showed. Even today, I'm not as hyped as I had hoped to be, despite my love for the previous series and the Queen Charlotte season. Not to mention the books (I usually watch a season and then read the book afterwards, it's a tradition I have with my friends, we watch it and then buy a book with the film cover, so we can buddy-read it together.). But today is the date I promised to discuss the season with my friends because they've already seen it. That's what kicked my butt to finaly hit the play button.
But now to the first episode. (Yep, it's the only one I've seen so far because I still have to study for my finals, haha, so I allowed myself to watch one episode per meal, haha) The first thing that stood out to me was the glow-up! I mean, Miss Penelope Featherington had a princess transformation overnight and she looks STUNNING! When she went to that first ball of the season, I was in awe and then furious after Cressida (Eloise's new BFF) ripped Pen's dress with her heel. I mean the audacity to do that?! Like what? But there's also the famous Colin-glow-up, and I'm not sure if I'm here for it. I had a chat with my friend about him the other day, and we both think he looks like he got Botox, haha. We are big fans of Luke and his beard, but Colin? He looks so different, compared to the previous series. It's not horrible, I don't want you to think I absolutely hate the way he looks, but I'm not so sure if I love it, you know?
Except that, I feel I should mention the new friendship between Eloise and Cressida. I don't know what should I think… I've never liked Cressida, and I'm not sure I ever will. However, I believe she showed us her real self for a bit when they were walking through the garden and she shared her difficulty in making friends. Maybe I will change my mind about her, we'll see.
What do you think?
(the picture isn't mine, it's from pinterest)
#bridgerton#penelope featherington#colin x penelope#penelope bridgerton#colin bridgerton#netflix bridgerton#polin bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton s3#blog#novel nook#lady whistledown#kate sharma#kate bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#eloise x cressida#eloise bridgerton#eloise x penelope#cressida#colin
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idk like i'm not crazy, right? the leaks are soo much more widespread and accepted this time around, yeah?
#like idc if you do or don't but it's . CHANGED.#thinking about previous releases on here...#the first one i really remember on here is 1989 and there's NO WAY people were posting like this about leaks#i feel like even midnights wasn't this bad????#idk!#like i feel like w midnights it was like. a COUPLE people on my dash talking about it#but it seems like it's 50/50 tonight on here#idk it could also be that a lot of people who aren't listening to leaks are just getting off of social media rn#which i get and am tempted to do as well
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in celebration of splatoon 3 news i drew iris!! again . look she’s all i have.
this one deffos doesn’t top the last art of her (i think?) but shhh i got lazy with it i just wanted to draw a gal
#funnily enough my previous art before this one was a completely different iris piece#but i wanted to do full body so#here she be#plus clover!#splatoon#splatoon 3#originally i made her an employee of Flow's shop back when splat2n released but im looking at the trinket shop/locker shop that Harmony#works at and im like hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm looking respectfully if we never see the Actual owner#also god. i kinda wanna rename her because iris is a stupid name but . im attached its been so many years#i wasnt THIKING about her eye i was THINKING about flowers#did i even have an oc tag#clover#iris#what the fuck was her name#Iris Carmilla???? i dont remember whatevs#my art
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“Soldier, Rich Man, Scoundrel,” Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #14.
Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit
#Marvel#Marvel comics#Marvel 616#latest release#Moon Knight vol. 9#Moon Knight 2021#Moon Knight comics#Moon Knight#Marc Spector#Steven Grant#Mr. Knight#first off…Steven’s looking GREAT#in other news this issue is an absolute GOLDMINE of references to previous runs and I’m living for it#here alone we have references to Marc’s struggle with Khonshu in the Lemire run#and then the villains he faced during the Bemis run (who we’ll get back to heheheh)#I also appreciate the almost meta look at Moon Knight’s reputation#there’s the in-universe discussion of how most heroes kind of look at Moon Knight askance and how he’s never long for team membership#and then there’s Moon Knight’s reputation in the comic book community as a whole where for a long time he was described as#“that one hero with DID” if people didn’t just settle for “oh yeah that one lunatic”#but yeah this issue makes it very clear what the current creative team thinks of THAT and I can’t wait to talk about it
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Hello hello!
Here is COMBLES, a set focusing on slanted walls, ideal for converted attics or just last floor of old buildings! It wasn't made on purpose but I think this set will be perfect to give a new look at your attics to rent them with the new expension pack coming !
It has been a little challenge to make everything look nice and easy to use. As the game lighting has its own rules, I've made my best to make pannelings, shelves and slanted walls match together! For technical purposes, the shelves are separated from their wall-part, but everything snaps to the wall so you will be able to combine them easily !
I've added a few plaster walls and beams to add an extra rustic feeling, and the plaster colours match Woodland Ranch's plaster so you'll be able to mix and match with the previous sets too!
I really can't wait to see what you will be able to create with those new pieces, I'm so excited about it!
Have a lovely week 💚
You can find the items by searching for COMBLES or Pierisim in game.
Some items share the same textures so make sure to have the packages finishing by "texture" in your mod folder :)
All base game compatible.
unmerged and merged version available.
public release 08/01/2024
DOWNLOAD (Early Access)
#maxis match#ts4#ts4cc#pierisim#ts4 cc maxis match#ts4 maxis match#pierisim cc#ts4 download#ts4 cc finds#ts4 finds#s4 cc#s4cc#s4mm#s4ccfinds#s4 custom content#sims 4 mmcc#ts4 cc mm#ts4 mm#mmcc#ccfinds#cc finds#the sims cc#sims 4 cc#ts4 cc#custom content#sims 4
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Pushing aside the fact that I am, quite possibly, a Kendrick fan—disregarding my biases, I think Drake needs to stop. Push Ups was a good diss. Surface level, vapid, but it possessed that mean, petty spirit that carries a diss track all the way. Even bringing up accusations that are, realistically speaking, unlikely still works because a diss is supposed to show just how much you hate a person and how cleverly you can bring it.
Taylor Made was weird. I get that it was a strategy. Drop the main diss first and then drop this one to really prod at Kendrick. Using Pac and Snoop AI voices sucks though. Distilling Kendrick as Taylor's underling also doesn't work because Kendrick only collaborated with her once (twice when they remade Bad Blood) and that's it. Meanwhile Drake is out here always looking for new, up and coming artists to pounce on their trends or cling to established artists. Then it got taken down, because of course it would have been. You used 2Pac's voice. Did you really think his estate, his family, wouldn't do anything?
So he bought Pac's ring and used his voice without permission. More and more we see just how much of a vulture Drake is.
And then Euphoria drops.
Your first diss was met with solid reactions. Your second got taken down. Kendrick drops on a random hot Tuesday, and in a matter of hours surpasses your numbers that took weeks to accumulate. Kendrick did that. Euphoria was also harsh, clever, and sounded so good that people kept replaying it over and over again. Once more, Kendrick schools you.
A few insiders then say that Drake will drop that night. Right after. But he then allegedly gets cold feet. A few hours later from when Drake was supposedly ready to drop but backs out, Kendrick drops 6:16 in LA.
In your previous disses, you begged Kendrick to drop something with quintuple entendres. Euphoria did that. But he took it a step further by naming his second diss 6:16 in LA.
June 16: Father's day. Referencing the fact that Drake has been proven to be a deadbeat father.
June 16, 1971: Tupac's Birthday. Kendrick idolizes him. Drake steals from him.
June 16, 2019: First episode of Euphoria drops. A show Drake is listed as a producer on. A show about underage girls entering a life of sex, substance abuse, and more. Things that Drake has been accused of repeatedly in the past.
June 16, 2011: in June 2, 2011, Kendrick posted on his twitter that there will be a concert at Toronto on 6/16. Allegedly this is where Drake and Kendrick first met.
6:16 AM: The time of release for this track.
6:16: Multiple possible Bible verses, given Kendrick's Christian background.
Other claims felt like reaches though, so I'll stick to that.
The final two lines of 6:16 also reference the Michael Jackson, R. Kelly, and their song "You Are Not Alone". Drake, who has always claimed he is Michael Jackson or at the very least his equal/successor, is now tied to him in a way he does not want. Because we know all of the dirt that came out after MJ's death. We all know what R. Kelly was sent to prison for. And we all know what Drake has been accused of multiple times.
Kendrick also alludes to the fact that you have a leak in your circle, Drake.
So Drake drops Family Matters. A scathing 7 minute song that makes fun of the GKMC van. Saying that Kendrick's daughter isn't his. Saying that his wife cheats on him with security. Saying that he beats his wife.
Now, these are enormous accusations levied. But Kendrick has responded before, years ago, that the DV accusations were false. He has also always been open about his faults. Adultery. Sex addiction. Insecurity. God complex. Kendrick, for better or worse, has always laid out nearly every aspect of his younger life on his songs. This also helped by the fact that in both Euphoria and 6:16, Kendrick says that Drake has spent millions on finding dirt on him but came up with nothing. Again, these accusations can still be proven true and if so, Kendrick needs to be held accountable for them.
But if not? Then Drake just adds another to the pile of "He's a liar and a master manipulator."
Drake also posts a Parody on his Insta that gains little to no attention because 30 minutes after dropping Family Matters and supposedly going on his victory lap, Kendrick drops meet the grahams.
Another thing. 6:16's cover was a glove. That meant nothing to us, the audience. meet the grahams makes it make sense by zooming out of the glove and showing off a shirt and drugs that Drake supposedly uses. Drake has not had any receipts with his accusations against Kendrick. Kendrick puts Drake's supposed prescription, his full name, on a bottle of Ozempic. Kendrick, for now, seems to make good on his threat. OvO, Drake's company, is full of leaks. And they're leaking it straight to Kendrick Lamar.
Nearly 24 hours later, Kendrick drops Not Like Us.
Euphoria was a general character dissection and assassination of Drake: Insecure about his identity as a biracial man. Culture Vulture. Blaccent user. Code switcher. Fake abs. Womanizer. Misogynist. Using black features just to feel black enough. A deadbeat dad that knows nothing of raising a child. And even revokes Drake's ability to use the N-Word (I have no stake in that I am Asian so I will keep my brown mouth shut for that).
6:16 in LA was an ominous threat that slowly reveals that Kendrick has insider information on Drake. That he is ready to leak so much more should Drake continue.
meet the grahams is a brutal open letter to Drake, his parents, and even to Adonis, Drake's son. Saying that Kendrick could be a better mentor to Adonis. Saying that Drake abandoned you and that's not your fault. Don't be like your father—whatever anyone says, for better or worse, you are a black man and don't code switch just to make yourself feel better. He says that Drake failed his mother for what he did to women. Saying that Drake's father is the cause of his gambling issues. Drake is a body shamer. Leaving the mother of his children to rot. And of course, the reveal that Drake has a secret daughter, the same way Pusha T revealed Drake has a son. Adonis.
And of course, now. Not Like Us. Where Kendrick goes all in on one topic that he has alluded to in every diss track before. Drake is a groomer. A pedophile.
I am sick. I should not be tuning into this beef. But my fever can go ahead and end me, I need to know how this ends.
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I feel like people have been quick to dismiss Mimzy's importance in Ep. 5
I've been seeing a lot of Mimzy hate, mainly on Reddit, where people are genuinely REALLY hating on Mimzy because she was annoying, interrupted Hell's Greatest Dad, and served no purpose in the episode.
Whilst the previous two points are down to personal taste, I feel like considering Mimzy's role in this episode nonexistent, or that she just exists for fanservice here, is greatly overlooking what this episode is about. There are two focuses to the episode, one of course being Lucifer and his relationship with Charlie, but it's also the deepest look into Alastor's actual character that we've gotten so far, I'd say significantly more than the finale. We see two sides to Alastor that both Mimzy and Luficier bring out, and I wanted to kind of highlight my thoughts and what the episode was trying to show us about Alastor that we wouldn't have gotten if Mimzy wasn't there.
Alastor's instant hostility towards Lucifer makes it incredibly clear that Alastor can't keep his cool all the time - his two biggest flaws is that he is power-hungry and incredibly petty. From what we know - and what is likely to be true considering Lucifer is shown to have no idea who he is - Alastor has never met Lucifer before this. If the theories that he belongs to Eve/Lilith in some way are true, there is reasonable ground to say that this immediate hatred towards him could be justified, maybe it was in some way Lucifer's fault that he's caught in this deal and this is his way of taking it out on him or trying to uphold his end of that deal.
But look how much his mask slips, look how annoyed and angry he is. If this was a font that he was doing to somehow make Lucifer intentionally mad at him for some sort of personal gain, he wouldn't have looked so murderous. Him just leaning down and hissing 'fuck you' right in his face was so shocking for the audience purely because no one has done that to him before, no one has pushed him so much.
This indicates that Alastor isn't just playing some sort of game, Lucifer genuinely got under his skin, because he is so obviously more powerful than Alastor and he HATES that. He hates being reminded that he's not the biggest meanest in Hell - this was explored more in his showdown in Adam, but at the time of this episode's release, this is the most flawed and 'human' Alastor has ever felt. He's dropped from this force of mysterious evil, to randomly picking a fight with the Devil himself because he was so catty about being shown up.
As further reinforced with him snapping at Husk when he also reminded him he wasn't as all-powerful as he sees himself to be, Alastor will lash out at those who make him feel like he isn't the one in control and pulling the strings of everything - we finally see a hint of motivation for him sticking around at the hotel at all.
But then there's Mimzy.
We immediately go from seeing Alastor at his worst, at his most aggravated and petty, to seeing him literally melt into a hug. The demon who, according to Viv herself, hates physical contact so much that he would distort and melt himself to get away from it. We so quickly go from being shocked that Alastor is behaving so spitefully to now having to take in Alastor being ecstatic to see someone who he considers to be a friend.
Having this be so directly after his massive tiff with Lucifer is so important. If this wasn't included in this episode, our only insight into the person Alastor actually is would be that he's an asshole. Picking fights with people just because he wants to stay on top, that its the thing he cares about the most. But Mimzy does come along, and we see that it isn't true at all - and its confusing, and that is so perfect.
You think you're getting somewhere with the person Alastor is, but you see that, hold on, there is actually a semblance of heart in there, here he is actually caring about someone. But what is so important about this being a relationship he shares with Mimzy, and something that couldn't at all be explored with, say, Rosie, is the kind of person Mimzy is.
Mimzy double crossed Alastor. And, according to Husk, this is a somewhat regular occurace. We can see that Alastor is annoyed at her, and I think most of us were prepared for him to do something to her like he was doing to those loan sharks a few seconds before this confrontation.
But...he doesn't. Not at all, he doesn't even snap at her. Perhaps scold her a bit, but other than that, he is so nice to her and just politely tells her to leave and that is that. He does more shit to Lucifer, who literally hasn't done nothing but exist in his presence, than someone who just trampled all over his ego by using him, both as a shield and, well, somewhat emotionally.
In this episode, Alastor is shown to lash out. Easily. All you have to do is be more powerful than Alastor, and he won't like you - that's the impression you'd get from his scenes with Lucifer alone. But we have his scenes with Mimzy as well, and you're being told, hold on, no, that isn't quite correct, because he's not acting the same here. What has Alastor got to gain from letting Mimzy get off of this with no repercussions? Mimzy, someone who has probably sold her soul to someone else and has absolutely no power at all.
Nothing. He does it because Alastor cares about her.
I don't think I would have considered his friendship with Rosie to be genuine at all if it wasn't for his friendship with Mimzy. Rosie is so powerful, and Alastor has so much to gain from being in close cahoots with her, but it's so clear that he doesn't care about that, but he sees her as an equal. If all we saw from Alastor in that episode was him lusting for power, it would render the way we see all his relationships with people to be of some gain to him somehow. ESPECIALLY Rosie and other Overlords like Zestial.
This makes Alastor and Mimzy's relationship arguably one of the most interesting in the show. Someone who is so powerful and unpredictable, who hardly cares for anyone other than himself, caring about this absolute gremlin of a woman. He likes Mimzy purely because she's fun to be around, a sentiment you might expect from Alastor, with his stated reasoning for joining the hotel being to laugh at people, but he's in no way laughing at Mimzy. You can tell that he doesn't intimidate her at all, because she has the absolute balls to pull off the loan shark thing with him.
Mimzy and Lucifer's interactions with Alastor has made him to be one, if not THE most interesting character in the show. Because you're exploring two contradictory sides of the same coin at once. One where he gets so worked up and angry over not having the power he sees himself as having, and one where he's visibly hurt that his long time friend used him. In one instance you have him pulling out all the stops to be as hostile as he could be to Lucifer without actually hurting him (even though he clearly wants to), and another where he has full range to hurt Mimzy as much as he wants to, but he doesn't.
Alastor cares about people. But also disregards people like playing cards. He is such a mixed bag, so far from being one note, and you wouldn't have gotten that insight without Mimzy.
#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#mimzy#hazbin hotel mimzy#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel analysis#also very telling that reddit shits so strongly on one of the only plus size women in the show over her acting like a bitch in hell#you know#like so many other characters in the show
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 5: What I Want
Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown
A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.
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(Gif pulled from google)
You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs.
You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up.
Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble.
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think.
“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.”
“Good.”
You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?”
“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.”
You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them.
“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand.
“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.”
“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.”
“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it.
“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles.
“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake.
“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.”
“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door.
Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.
“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up.
“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone.
“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.”
“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?”
“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.”
“Oh? How so?”
“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins.
Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.”
“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.”
“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.”
“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.”
“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.”
“We’re doing our best.”
“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.”
“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.”
Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.”
You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too.
You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost.
“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway.
You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough.
He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through.
Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt.
You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them.
Tattoos.
He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings.
You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him.
“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand.
You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles.
“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.”
You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you.
“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you.
You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit.
“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...”
“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him.
You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run.
You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.”
“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks.
He has a point.
“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.”
You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit.
“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.”
You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well.
Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes.
“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice.
A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit.
“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you.
“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.”
“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone.
He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in.
Don’t back down.
Don’t back down.
You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega.
“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.”
His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength.
“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance.
“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless.
“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice.
He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit.
The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face.
“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.”
You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back.
He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.
“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?”
“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room.
“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.”
Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight.
“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.
“It’s his fault.” You murmur.
“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows.
Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.
It’s not yours.
“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position.
Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.”
Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode.
“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.”
“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office.
“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince.
Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.”
“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly.
“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.”
“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.”
“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?”
Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust.
“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.”
Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.”
You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.”
“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.”
You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering.
“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?”
You nod. “Ozone.”
She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.”
Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess?
You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack.
“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?”
“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks.
“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.”
“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look.
You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.”
“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down.
You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.”
“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks.
You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.”
“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?”
You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud.
“Why not?” She asks.
“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur.
“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks.
You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.”
Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.”
Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse.
“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you.
That word again.
You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week.
You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply.
“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you.
“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.”
“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?”
“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.”
“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”
Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain.
“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?”
“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.”
Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.”
She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin.
“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide.
“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.”
“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...”
Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”
The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain.
“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?”
You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.”
She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this.
That’s not a conversation you want to have right now.
You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her.
It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to.
You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in.
“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly.
“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys.
She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms.
Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”
You nod. “Thank you.”
She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.”
You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet.
You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any.
Ask for one thing that you want.
It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to.
You could ask for something that’s not material.
Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today.
You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed.
You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants.
You can want this.
You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this.
You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling.
You want this.
“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-”
His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed.
“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-”
Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip.
“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.”
“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-”
Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours.
His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist.
“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.”
Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.”
You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.
This isn’t a want.
You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow.
“Come in.”
Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there?
“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen.
You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.”
You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air.
“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough.
You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.”
“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.”
You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap.
Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him.
“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him.
“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand.
His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders.
All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you.
You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe.
You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest.
“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck.
You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent.
“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body.
You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it.
“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly.
His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before.
You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again.
The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south.
He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him.
He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall.
Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days.
“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?”
He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest.
“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.”
Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked.
Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed.
His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock.
Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you.
He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips.
He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days.
“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing.
“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall.
Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him.
You’re going to be the death of him.
Taglist, part 1:
@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006
#call of duty#call of duty fic#poly 141#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#alpha beta omega#a/b/o#john price x reader#captain price x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#john mactavish x reader#soap x reader#ghost x soap#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader
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Bakugou is, for all intents and purposes, a massive baby.
God forbid you leave him for ten minutes before he starts wandering around the house looking for you. Mercy on you if you go out to the grocery store and don’t take him. And how dare you even consider get up to get a snack when he's in the bathroom, letting your shared spot get cold.
These things, he can not let go easily.
Naturally, this slips your mind every once in a while because a peaceful life with Bakugou Katsuki doesn't exist. When you forget, he makes it his mission to force you to remember his clingy ass.
Tonight, it would appear to be no different.
It's 02:30 when you snap back to reality, bleary eyes blinking to get your bearings back.
The lamp on the side table blinds you momentarily, there's music coming from the tv- credits, you deduce, from the show Denki had raved to you both about. When you angle your head up, you're met with a firm jawline that lets out a loud snore from the slight disturbance.
Katsuki never was good at staying awake during these things.
Smiling up at him, you're quick to place a tender little kiss on his chin, watching as the corners of his mouth twitches slightly. Gently, you slip out of his arms and cover him with the blanket, using the parted lips releasing the smallest little snores to ensure his slumber. He smacks his lips and turns slightly on his side, as if chasing the warmth you'd taken away, and you click the tv off to keep him in the dark. You shuffle your way into your bedroom to get your own rest; you shiver once you slip under the covers, the fabric cold from the lack of use and lack of Katsuki's body heat.
The minute you do warm up, however, you're out like a light, and you remain so for a few hours.
But then, there's someone at the end of your bed. You feel them, and it wakes you just barely. You shift the blankets higher on your shoulder for protection from whatever your subconsious picks up, and just when you feel normal, something speaks.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
The raspy voice coming from the foot of your bed is more than enough to snap you from your sleep, but it isn’t until you see the massive, bulky frame that your heart sinks and you scream, you scream as loud as you can, immediately scrambling to the corner of your bed.
“Stop screaming, it’s me.”
Your shaking hands immediately shoot to the lamp next to your bed and upon flicking it on, you’re greeted by a sleepy Katsuki, blanket around his shoulders and sleepy scowl on his face, as if you’re the one who just inconvenienced him.
“You freak! What are you doing!” You snap, quickly rubbing your eyes to knock the sleep from them to properly scold. He merely shrugs and smacks his tired lips, indifferent to the previous heart attack he’d given you.
“Left me alone on the couch,” he says, dropping the blanket onto the floor before crawling into bed next to you, casually. “We were snuggling. You abandoned me.”
“You-! I was-! Why-!”
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he says, burying his face into his pillow and making a grabby hand for you, “c’mere, wanna spoon.”
Your heart, still pounding in your chest, finally lets breaths of air in, your hands trembling as you flick back off the light. You’re still mad, now shaking with fury, and as you roll to have your back facing him, you try to take deep breaths to calm down and not smother the man you somehow chose to love with a pillow.
“Hey,” he grumbles, tugging your sleep shirt. “Come here.”
“I can’t fucking stand you, Katsuki. I don’t even want to be in the same bed as you right now, you scared the fucking shit out of me.”
“Didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “Jus’ wanted to be close to you.”
“And you thought threATENING ME AT THE END OF OUR BED WAS A GOOD WAY TO DO THAT?”
He goes silent, and you almost think he’s given up, and just as you blink your stinging eyes, he suddenly rolls on top of you, knocking the wind out of you at his heaviness.
“Katsuki!” You scold, but it’s shrouded in laughter, an absolute contrast of how you just were talking all of ten seconds ago.
“Now you can’t leave,” he says, cockily. “You wake me again and I will kill you.”
“You woke me up just now! You could’ve easily come to bed like any sane person!”
“….”
“Katsuki!”
“Cant hear you, I’m asleep.”
“KATSUKI!”
#im gonna bark#katsuki being a big baby is part of my pretty girl era#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki fluff#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader fluff#bakugou katsuki x gn!reader#bakugou katsuki imagine#bakugou katsuki bnha#bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou x reader#bakugou x gn!reader#bakugou x reader fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou bnha#bnha#bnha fluff#bnha imagine#bnha x reader#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x gn!reader#bnha x yn#bnha x you#bnha x y/n#bnha x reader fluff
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okay buckle up chuckle fucks here is everything i remember from tonight (absolutely missing some stuff)
- before dan comes on he introduces himself over the speaker stating that he asked phil to do it and phil said no because he didn’t want to be sat behind a curtain for an hour
- dan comes on stage and stands in the big church plinth thing (iconic)
- he tells a story about how he went to a&e the day before yesterday because he had sore eyes. says phil was trying to get him to put eye drops in but he was being very dramatic so whilst on the phone to 111 phil knelt over him lying on the bathroom floor holding his eyes open to put drops in. dan then went to hospital to check it and everything’s fine (lol) he just needed some special eyedrops. phil did not accompany him and dan had to cross a dual carriageway on his own whilst not being able to see well (i doubt he will ever let it go)
- here is a diagram i drew on the way home to depict said event
- it is also giving this
- spoke about the butt chair. union chapel said they did not have any furniture for him to borrow so he had to bring his own - he bought the butt chair from his bedroom and a lil plant to decorate. said phil carried the plant to the car but made dan get the chair in the uber and then said “okay have fun at work sweetie” (this was said jokey but we died nonetheless)
- he then talks about pissyourselffordan trending and how he had to explain to harper collins what the actual fuck was happening on stan twt. apparently they were glad the fans were supportive and he has an engaged audience but they were not going to use the hashtag in the promo. called the whole scenario pissgate and the crowd chanted piss at him
- he was told there was wine and advertised wine before realising alcohol was not allowed in the church. he then got given a sprite and everyone screamed that it was piss
- talked about the book and the previous release, how weird covid was, talked about the photoshoot for the book cover and the graphic design. said he didn’t love the pics because they were super dramatic. someone shouted “it’s cunty” he replies: “oh it’s cunty is it?” then realises he said cunty in a church which was a big lol
- he then read the new chapters, several mentions of phil not being supportive and abandoning him at the hospital (he talked about phil a lot it was very sweet)
- then brought out dan’s slit (box used to put questions in before the show)
- the questions i can remember include but are not limited to:
- what was the weirdest position you wrote the book in: “cheeks out in an armchair curled up over my laptop, you might think your scrolling posture is okay now but when you hit thirty you will all be broken”
- fave comfort show: “the office - is the office a bit millennial? it isn’t as millennial as friends. ross being offended by a manny? that’s where my internalised homophobia is from”
- how has the gaming channel affected your mental health? A: he is finding it a lot more sustainable than before because of help with editing, but will see where it goes
- will he ever judge drag race: he didn’t want to when he was asked because he didn’t want to be exposed to more speculation about his sexuality at the time, same with strictly come dancing
- how do you cope with feeling lonely whilst surrounded by people: talked about how online friends are truly real friends and distance doesn’t have to determine friendship levels. says it is important to notice the friendships even that aren’t close
- i can’t remember the question but he said that phil has to remind him of some of the stuff that is in ywgttn when he struggles “i literally learnt the word catastrophising from your book dan come on”
- another tour? “do you guys want that” *screaming* “what would it be?” *dan and phil games screams* “well 👀👀”
- are we going to get more sister daniel: *everyone loses their minds* “maybe i should have done it for the church but it is far too exposing under the spotlight”
- did you work in the asda in Lower Earley: “what in the baby reindeer? yes i did”
- then went to the insta questions that were too inappropriate for the audiobook including
- piss
- will you wear wigs
- when will you wear wigs
- how long is your big toe “six centimetres - i don’t have a big toe im just a long person”
- pee pee poo poo time
- what were the other names for the book: “you will get through this was a bit cliche, you will get through this night? she is sexy and mysterious. at first we wanted to call it “you are messed up read this to fix your issues” but then realised the book was more serious in tone after it was finished so went with ywgttn instead”
- i genuinely can’t remember most of these i think i dissociated a lil at this point if anyone remembers please add
- then read the author’s note at the end of the paper back, talking about how lockdown impacted him and was a big scary thing and also how incredible it is to see people recommend it, find it useful, have therapists recommend it etc. “it is an honour to have created this”
- took a selfie with everyone
- someone gave him a bouquet of flowers and he said “aww you guys are so gay”
- then said “if you enjoyed seeing me in person… i’ll see you again very soon”
this is everything i remember off the top of my head so people please feel free to add what i have forgotten!!
and here are all the pics i got!!
#dnp#dan and phil#daniel howell#amazingphil#dapg#ywgttn#dan howell#phil lester#phan#dnpgames#dapgames
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