#because her relationship with fire changed thanks to the crew

[elaenim]

Healing fire

#robin #one piece #my art #because her relationship with fire changed thanks to the crew #now instead of destruction it can symbolise freedom and new beginnings #shining bright #nico robin

[irisintheafterglow]

every love I've known in comparison is a failure

summary: the stars appear over baratie, creating the perfect atmosphere to embarrass your husband. (opla!zoro x you)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: established relationship, swearing, allusions to canon-typical blood and violence, drinking and alcohol, flashback to a very silly meet ugly lol

note: (part one is linked here!) HELLO ZORO NATION, here is the highly requested part 2 to "if he's a ghost then i can be a phantom." hope you like it, i definitely had fun writing it because he's just,,,, such a himbo man. @alphaash99 thank you for the inbox ask, sorry it took so long to answer!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“I don’t know what else to tell you; that’s really all there is to it,” you laugh, taking another sip from your glass. “He brings me heads and I give him money.” 

“Brought you heads,” your husband corrects from your side, his arm draped securely over your shoulders. “Right now, I’m the one with a fire under my ass.” 

“Mhmm, but apparently I’m still giving you money,” you remind him, nodding toward the overflowing coin pouch of Berry at the center of the table. He shrugs a broad shoulder in defeat, unsuccessfully trying to hide his smile. 

“Okay, but you’re leaving out the part where you somehow fell in love with this…oaf.” Nami gestures vaguely at the crew’s swordsman and his jaw drops in indignation. Luffy and Usopp break into another fit of delirious giggling while Sanji leaves to fetch yet another bottle. Everyone present knew his ego was bruised from his failed attempts to charm you. “I think he has less romantic appeal than an overripe banana.”

“At this point, just say that I’m ugly,” he chuckles lightheartedly and she shakes her head in exasperation. “I’m obviously not that bad since this is who I married.” The two remaining boys at the table give polite applause, to which Zoro murmurs his melodramatic appreciation like he was accepting an award. You couldn’t remember the last time he was this relaxed while he was drinking. Most of the time, you had to steer him to whatever ship he was calling home for the night while simultaneously preventing him from stabbing anything that moved. 

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Nami snorts and Zoro makes a mocking face that you raise your hand up to cover. “But, seriously. How’d he get you?” You pause, searching for words in your foggy mind and getting distracted by the speckling of midnight stars up above. Following the disastrous first meeting with the crew’s chef, their swordsman reluctantly introduced you to the rest of his new friends. You spent the remainder of the evening sipping a fruity drink with your legs crossed over your husband’s lap and regaling the table with embarrassing stories about their favorite stoic crewmate. 

“In all honesty, our first meeting was a fluke,” you admit after some time. Sanji returns with a new bottle and pours himself a hefty glass before sliding it to the center of the group, settling in to listen to your story. “I was there by mistake; he was there by mistake. I guess the two canceled out.” 

Years ago, when you were still confined to the walls of the Marine base, a series of unexpected changes in your itinerary allowed you an afternoon of freedom. You were visiting from your father’s countryside estate to once again ask if you could sail on one of his ships, only to receive the same dismissive answer as every request before. As if to rub more salt in the wound, he also notified you that Mihawk would be docking in two days time to continue your training. After jumping the gun a little too early and skipping the flattery dinner to get him drunk enough to grant your request, you were left with an extra day to wander the dry, lifeless walls of the installation. With a leg propped up on your father’s expensive leather chair and the other resting on the windowsill facing the ocean, you don’t bother turning when the door opens and the sound of boots echoes through the office. 

“Get out and I won’t tell the captain you came in here,” you say boredly, staring at the vast blue water that seemed to spell out freedom in the seafoam. The voice that replies is too disrespectful to ever come from the mouth of one of your father’s underlings. 

“I wasn’t aware the captain wore such promiscuous clothing.” You startle, swiveling abruptly to face the stranger that entered the room. He wasn’t a Marine at all, you quickly realized, not with that bright green hair and enough wrinkles in his clothes to look like your great grandfather’s forehead. But, what gave him away the most was his eyes. They weren’t like the eyes of other men you looked at, the ones who would cower or rake over you like you were some entree at a feast. No, this stranger looked at you curiously and with amusement that irked you. 

He looked at you like you were a new challenge. 

“Who are you?”

“Roronoa Zoro, the Pirate Hunter,” he replies and your eyes flick to his sharp jawline. If he weren’t in the room, you would have slapped yourself to regain your composure. “I have a bounty I’d like to turn in.” He tosses a burlap sack dripping with dark liquid onto your father’s equally expensive desk and you don’t even flinch. Your lack of a reaction seems to spur him further and he tilts his head to the side, studying you. 

“What’d my old man promise you?” 

“The captain is your father?” His eyes narrow on you and you glare, not backing down. 

“Answer my question first,” you fire back without hesitation. 

“Five hundred thousand Berry,” he answers and you nod, reaching over to one of the intricately carved drawers and pulling out a stack of bills and a dense pouch of coins. Rolling the bills into a wad and stuffing it into the coin purse, he catches it with ease when you toss it to him. “You’re not gonna verify if I’m giving you the right number?”

“That would imply that I care about how much you’re taking from my father,” you point out, “Which, I really don’t. I couldn’t care less, frankly, if you ransacked this entire office. Just don’t get caught or both our asses will have a fire under them.” He hums in assent and turns to leave, but as his hand hovers over the door handle, he hesitates and looks at you over his shoulder. 

“What are you doing here by yourself?”

“Trying to figure out how to sneak out of this fucking hellhole,” you mutter with obvious distaste. A thoughtful look crosses his features and he chucks you a crumpled cloak from a nearby dressing table. “What are you–”

“Put it on. Let’s get out of here,” he states and you hastily throw it over your clothes, slipping behind the swordsman while he guides you out of the base. He knows his way around the tunnels and, with the cloak obscuring your identity, successfully sneaks you out of the dusty beige walls of the base. The smell of garlic and fried food wafts into your nostrils and you drift toward it, feeling in your pocket for your own small coin pouch. Zoro falls into step next to you effortlessly and follows you to the enticing grill. “Someone’s hungry.”

“I’ve been eating nothing but government slop for the past twenty four hours. If I have to see another spoonful hit my plate, I’ll actually die,” you deadpan and the corner of his mouth turns up in amusement. Without bothering to count the amount, you drop a handful of coins into the vendor’s roughened palms and ask for enough food to feed you and the man next to you. She gladly obliges, stacking various grilled sticks of food onto a plate and thanking you profusely for your generosity. “We’re gonna eat and you’re going to explain to me why you snuck me out,” you command and you’re glad to sense him continue to stay by your side. 

During the few hours you spend with Zoro, you find yourself utterly enthralled by him and he is fascinated by you. You listen to his stories about hunts and his bounties and find yourself in awe of how non-arrogantly he speaks of his job. You’d sat down for numerous fancy dinners with egotistical Marines that wanted to sleep their way into good graces with your father, but eating with Zoro was nothing like that. He was an amazing listener and, when you thought he was just ignoring something you said, he ended up saying something just as thoughtful a few moments later. His visits became more frequent and you continued to find excuses to linger around the base in hopes that he would sneak you out again. Your father’s rage would end both of you if he ever found out, but the thrill of secrecy was your newest addiction. 

“He asked to marry me a few years after I helped him empty my dad’s wallet,” you recall, fondly remembering the disaster that was his proposal. “He had this whole shabang planned out with a sunset and fancy cheeses–”

“And then it fucking rained,” he grumbles before taking another sip. “Fucking storm rolled in and blew away the entire setup.” 

“That’s still romantic, though,” Luffy offers reassuringly. “Getting down on one knee in the rain.”

“It is,” you smirk, “if he didn’t drop the ring off the cliffside.” The crew erupts into shocked cackling, tears pricking the edges of their eyes. 

“You dropped the fucking ring?” 

“The wind was strong!” 

“Wait, so then how’d you get that one?” Usopp points at the green gem embedded in the simple gold band. It was strikingly similar to the one hanging from a chain around your husband’s neck, a decision made so he didn’t lose it while he was fighting. 

“He went out and bought one from the market the next day. It was, what, fifty Berry?”

“You bought them a cheap ass ring after you dropped the expensive one,” Nami echoes in disbelief. Zoro opens his mouth to argue but is cut off with even louder shrieks from the table. “How the hell did you pull them?”

“It’s something I ask myself every time I see this ring,” he concedes. “But one thing I do know is that they deserve more than I can ever give them.” The soft look on his face when he turns to you never fails to make your body feel like it’s floating. It’s only when Luffy slams his palms on the table decisively that you snap out of your lovesick trance.

“Alright, that settles it,” he states with finality. 

“Settles what?”

“You’re going to join our crew.” Usopp raises his glass like he’d seen the order coming from miles away. Sanji turns a slightly darker shade of pink but doesn’t protest. 

“I could use someone that isn’t oozing with testosterone on the ship,” Nami adds when you’re unable to respond immediately. You can feel Zoro’s body tense next to you and, when you place a comforting hand on his shoulder, it feels like pure stone. He knew firsthand that asking you to leave was a touchy subject, especially when it was hard for the child of a captain to disappear into the blue. If you were out there with him, he told you, he wouldn’t be able to assure your safety when he was on hunts. Though you both knew you could handle yourself just fine, it always seemed to be a matter of poor timing when it came to running away together. Poor timing, that is, until now. 

Zoro wasn’t alone now, and you don’t even hesitate. 

“Do I get to choose a cool signature weapon like everyone else?” The captain’s face breaks into a blinding grin and begins a long ramble of different weapons you could choose from. Your husband’s body hasn’t lost its stiffness and he lowers his voice to a tone that only you could hear. 

“Are you sure about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His eyebrows furrow, unconvinced. “I said I’d do anything to be with you, didn’t I?”

“But piracy, love? You’re willing to go that far for me?”

“You know I’d go even farther if I needed to,” you murmur and that settles it. You catch an excited glint in Zoro’s eye and lean in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not the only swordsman on the ship anymore, husband.”

“And I’ve finally gotten you out of that damned base, so I think it’s a good time to renew those vows.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #zoro fluff #opla fluff #ask iris! #one piece x y/n

[raraeavesmoriendi]

Hello your tags on that recent Watcher post were chefs kiss and I feel so bad for the Watcher crew now that they know their fans are selfish and don't care about them as people or their artistic integrity.

(context)

man, like. I don’t know how those guys are supposed to just keep going with their sillier shows and act like so many people watching their shit didn’t just very loudly and publicly announce that they haven’t liked anything since BFU, especially when they left buzzfeed to start watcher in the first place bc they wanted to make the shows they were actually interested in and excited about.

and the number of people who have decided to like, personally harass them and people adjacent to them like sara? the fact that people harangued her when it has nothing to do with her, and then mocked her when she tried to say something? someone literally went through her socials and talked about “she bought this $100 bag how dare she,” like. it’s literally none of their fucking business, that doesn’t come out of production money. I can’t imagine how shane and ryan feel thinking now anything the fans don’t like will splash back on their families and have people digging through any and everything available to justify that harassment. god forbid any of the guys have kids anytime soon, bc these people can’t be trusted not to want to harass them too. not to mention the number of people saying staff should be fired, in a recession, like are you fucking joking.

because they can’t watch their goofy ghost show or puppet show for free. like.

yeah, six dollars can be a lot of money when you’re not making a lot. but it also doesn’t justify treating people like they’re not human and worthy of dignity, just content machines for the good brain chemicals.

I understand people’s relationship with media has changed since both the adoption of social platforms and since we’re living in Interesting times. but now it seems impossible to ignore just how willing they are to ignore the humanity at the center of it as long as they keep getting their content fix.

anyway. I wish the boys the best of luck at the live show. I would just be refunding everyone at this point and taking a fucking break.

thank you for the kind words, though, I appreciate it 🖤

#nice people #and then rarae says #rae grumbles #(just in case) #watcher

[daisygirlwrites]

Hi

I was wondering if I could get a platonic Simon ghost Riley headcanon of just simply being best friends with him ??

Rough Start (pt 1)

Summary: The first few months of Ghost and Crash's relationship

(pt 2-olive branch)

(pt 3-little things)

Warnings: Descriptions of violence and death. Mentions of verbal abuse. Slight Angst

Pairing(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem! Reader (Platonic)

Note: No use of (Y/N). Crash's former callsign was 'Shrike'

a/n: hello hello! im so sorry that i've been late with posting, my schedule keeps changing >:0 but i am finding times to write! as you can see, this is going to be a multi part because i had no self control when writing these headcanons. not sure how long it's going to be but i do know that the next part will be up this week! another thing, just passed 200 followers! i will make a separate post about itbut please send me asks/request! thank you so much for reading!

taglist: @bobfloydsgf , @itsscromp

He, along with Price, heard the rumors going around you. It was said that your skills were similar to his and that people called you “Little Ghost” behind your back. Like him, your specialty is sabotage and infiltration. Both men do some digging into your file.

Ghost was sent a redacted report, wanting to see what skills and training you’ve had but not really interested in your past. On the other hand, Price and Laswell were given the uncensored one. 

Some parts of the report made his eyebrow raise though. Especially the one about your former team and their last ‘mission’. At this point he was curious and wanted to take a look of Price’s copy because some of the things he read was: 

“Captain Lovelace Reported Dead”  “Section Name: ‘BIRD'S NEST’; Turned Against Each Other”  “Multiple Buildings On Fire”  “Three Survivors: [REDACTED], [REDACTED], and [(LASTNAME)]”

Hell, your (former) callsign was covered with a black line too

But again, he looked over your skill list and previous experiences. If he were to compare an old file of his to your current file, it would be identical. No wonder why Price wants you so badly on the task force, you’re a younger Ghost

He gets called in by Price to have a meeting about your recruitment. He wanted to know Ghost’s opinion about you, though, his mind is already made up about having you on the team. Ghost tells him that having you would be beneficial and that the task force needs more members anyway. But what he doesn’t tell Price is his hesitation for you. Files and reports are one thing but he needs to see you in action to be fully convinced

Price, knowing Ghost for years now, can see the slight uncertainty in his eyes. To help with this, he and Laswell call up old contacts and former teammates that worked with you. All of them give you a glowing review but Ghost remains unconvinced. That is until Price contacts Mace, a former operator that Ghost used to work with.

“Just need your honest opinion about her.” Price said to the phone. 

“About Shrike? Well, let’s see; Quiet, does what she’s told, hell of a shot and handy with knives too,” Mace paused for a second, trying to find the right words for what he was going to say next. “She’s still young and honestly, she can benefit with some training but I’m telling you, Price, she reminds me of Ghost when I worked with him seven years ago.”

Laswell made a face, as if she were to say ‘I’m impressed’, while Price eyed Ghost, studying his eyes for any reaction.

“You don’t say?” 

“Look, if you don’t want her on the task force, I will gladly have her join my crew.”

Price lets out a soft chuckle, “Sorry Mace, I think we’ll have her transferred to us.”

As Price and Laswell finalize your transfer, Ghost starts making his way out of the office. Price stops him. “Simon,” He calls out. It was rare for him to get called by his last name, let alone his first. Hand already on the doorknob, he turns his head, facing Price. He watches him take a breath, before stating “You’ll be mentoring her.”

“I’m sorry sir, what?”

“You heard me. You’re going to be her mentor.”

Ghost lets out a scoff, “I don’t want to play babysitter, Captain.”

“Out of everyone in the team, she shares the same skillset as you. Plus, it shouldn't take long before she catches up.”  Ghost looks away, not wanting Price to know that the last comment bothered him. All he could do was nod and leave.

Fast forward a couple weeks. He, Price and Laswell stand outside the base, watching planes and helicopters land and take off, waiting for your arrival. After a couple minutes, they see a Black Hawk touch down a couple hundred feet in front of them. The blades slow down as the side door opens. Out walks you, a duffle bag in each hand and a rifle case strapped to your back. Spotting the trio, you walk to their direction

Ghost stares at you as you walk towards them. For one, you are much shorter than anticipated, probably around 5’4. Another thing that he notices is your outfit; black hoodie, black cargo pants and a simple black facemask. Price looks at you two and takes note that you look like Ghost’s mini-me, matching outfit and all.  

Price was the first to greet you, and ever the gentleman, takes one of your bags even though you respectfully refused. “Now you can properly shake my hand.”

Laswell was next but she gives you a look, as if she were trying to remember something (or someone). Still your introduction was pleasant. 

Ghost stayed silent as he watched your interactions with each other. He didn’t even say anything to you as you held out your hand and told him your name and rank. There’s an awkward air between you two and Price watches on, only stepping in to introduce Ghost himself. “This is Lieutenant Simon Riley, your mentor.” 

Finally, he returns your handshake. “Call me Ghost.”

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

Training doesn’t start until after your first mission together, which is literally the day after you got to base. Price was concerned at first but Ghost reasons with him; he wants to see how you do when being thrown in the deep end

And you do better than he expected you to. He understands what everyone is saying now and why they wanted you in their team; you may be young and have many things to work on, but you have the potential to be like him. As he is in the height of his career, within years time and training, you have the ability to surpass him.

This makes him a bit conflicted. For one, it’s an advantage to have someone like you in the team but on the other hand he’s worked hard and suffered through so much to be where he is now, so seeing you, young and even optimistic at times, makes him jealous. And Price’s comment stuck with him. A part of Ghost feels like he’s going to get replaced by a younger and better verison in a couple years

So when training does start, he treats you as if you were in basic again and he doesn’t hold back either, especially with how you are on the field. 

Price thinks Ghost goes a little too rough in the training sessions but he doesn’t know his jealousy towards you

Will nitpick at every little mistake you do, yelling and shouting as he does so. Has called you stupid, idiot and weak. Does not hold back his strength during hand to hand. 

But time and time again, you get up, hands and arms anticipating his next moves, blinking away tears that threaten to spill in front of him. Honestly, this makes him respect you whenever you do this and it also pisses him off even more.

During missions, you are amazing but Ghost wants perfection. He only talks about the objective and anything relating to it. However, when you get back to base, even if the mission goes well, he reprimands you on what you did wrong and what you could have done better. And like how he is during training, he isn’t nice about it either.

This hostile attitude towards you goes for about four months since you joined the team. The rest of the 141 made comments towards him about it but never really stepped in, mostly with how you’re taking everything and not letting it bother you. Yes you’re quiet and shy in the group, but they’ve seen your small acts of kindness. Helping to put gear away, getting them drinks and snacks during breaks and cleaning up the meeting room after it’s done. 

But you are still human and you have your limits too. Everything that he throws at you starts to chip the mask you wore whenever he yells. And tonight, you were at the breaking point.

The mission went well, all things considered. Objective cleared and only leaving with some minor injuries too. However during the mission, you noticed some movement from the corner of your eye. An enemy and he was close behind Ghost. You were going off of instincts, immediately pulling out your knife and chucking it towards the man behind him. From Ghost’s perspective, you literally turned around and threw a knife in his direction. He would have screamed at you if it weren’t for the sound of a man choking on his own blood. Ghost turns his head and finds the said man, slumped down against the wall dying and your knife stuck in his neck. Grabbing the handle, twisting it for good measure, he takes it out and hands it back to you. You feel a small sense of pride and happiness when he nods at you.

Thinking that you did good in the mission, maybe this time Ghost won’t yell at you afterwards. But you were very wrong. Once you enter the main building at base, he goes off on you. And your heart breaks all over again, confused at why he keeps doing this and angry at yourself for believing you did something correct.

Price and Soap step in, between you two, to defend your actions and even call him out on his behavior.

Honestly, at this point, Ghost just wants to see you blow up and he believes that you will. But to his shock, you put a gentle hand on Price and Soap’s shoulders and shake your head. You step towards him, meeting his eyes. 

There’s a usual ‘sparkle’ in your eyes but this time, you look like you’re dead inside. Months of this verbal abuse, you’re done and he can tell. 

The rest of the team step back to give you some space, the room filled with uncomfortable silence. 

Your voice, barely above a whisper, questioned him “Why do you hate me?” You search his eyes for an answer, a sign, anything. But he doesn’t give you one, so you guess instead. “Is it because you envy me?”

Ghost eyes widen and you scoff in response, finally getting the message and leaving the room without acknowledging the others. 

The team didn’t hear what you were saying but they can tell that it properly pissed off Ghost, watching his hands ball up into fists. However, he doesn’t go after you because in the end, you were right

Part 2 Here!

Part 3 There!

#daisygirlwrites #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john price x reader #price x reader #john price #john mactavish #soap mactavish

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Gale Reviews: Netflix Avatar: the Last Airbender (Book 1)

(Thanks @knightsweeties for this cute GP)

Now I have AVOIDED looking at spoilers, and opinions of others until After I had made my own conclusions.

A lot of people are mixed on this series. With only one thing being consensus:

The last airbender movie < Netflix Avatar the last Airbender < Avatar the last Airbender

Aside from that, opinions have been all over the places. On how great or how bad the show is.

I will be going over my thoughts on it in the following categories.

The Action (fight scenes)

The Effects (from bending, CGI, and costumes)

The characters

The Plot

The changes

Does it capture the Spirit?

How does it stand on its own?

Conclusions.

(Spoilers below, but let’s get Right into it)

____________________________________________

The Action

So I’m going to say this. The action in this series is great. In my opinion it’s the strongest point in the series.

The battles from invasions, to simple one on one fights are very well done, some aspects even surpassing the original. Like the invasion of the Northern Water Tribe, you really feel the place is under attack.

And the bending battles are pretty gorgeous. It’s impressive to see the fight between Katara and Paku done serviceable well.

Though one flaw is the fact that sometimes showing the fight or attack actually took away from the impact of story beats done in the original. Seeing the attack on the Air Nomads actually took something away from it. Seeing Aang discover that horror is much less impactful.

And seeing Zuko fight in his Agni Kai against his Father also took a lot of bite from the scene. If Zuko never fought back it would have been so much more traumatic.

But they were still good fighting scenes.

Solid 9/10

____________________________________________

The Effects.

The Costumes in this are Gorgeous! Especially Kyoshi warriors. The characters mostly look as if taken straight from the cartoon. The Face stealer himself being ABSOLUTELY HORRIFYING to look at in Live action. He is a sleep paralysis demon.

Appa and Momo both look great. The effects of the cities, and the blending are beautiful.

The bending also looks pretty clean. Though I admit the water bending was a bit lacking but the Fire looked ESPECIALLY fierce.

There is so much detail jam packed in this it’s amazing.

Though, I will say that it’s not flawless, some of the things do come off a touch goofy. But that could be more of uncanny valley with some of the bending.

8/10

___________________________________________

The Characters

And it wouldn’t be Avatar without the Characters in it.

And before we do anything, let me say, ALL of the characters look like the character they are playing. It’s like Netflix genetically modified them to Look like the character.

Dallas James Liu’s Portrayal of Zuko is PERFECT. Matching Season 1 Zuko’s personality to a T.

Zuko actually gets more development and his relationship with Iroh and the Crew are expanded upon more. That Funeral scene with him and Iroh broke my heart.

Maria Zhang’s Suki is also an incredible performance.

DANNY PUDI AS The Mechanist. (They cast Abed!) that was a fun surprise.

But now that we talked about what I loved about the characters… now to get to the negatives.

Aang feels so mopey. Yes Aang has his sad moments. But instead of being a hyper optimist with a penchant for fun, he is more like a depressed kid that has occasional bits of being a kid. I don’t blame the Actor, I just feel it’s more the writing

But if Aang got a downgrade in character, Katara was SHREDDED to practically nothing. The strong yet caring Katara was so… Passive. Even her big moment fighting Paku felt so… lack luster. It pained me to see this girl who was so strong come off so… passive.

Sokka did lose a chunk of character and development, but it wasn’t AS detrimental as one would believe. It’s still cruddy. But there was some stuff added that helped cushion the blow.

Appa and Momo were not as present because expenses (but at least they were fine)

King Bumi is dead. I don’t know WHAT was the plan behind Bumi, but this felt so… twisted and off. This isn’t the Bumi that taught Aang the lesson about how not everything is as it seemed. It hurt me to see such an accurate look be so inaccurate.

Azula and her friends felt like a down grade. I know what they were trying to go for. But I just didn’t feel that EDGE she had. It felt so.. pitiful.

On a positive

Jet and his team were still fun and a bit psychotic.

Ozai actually coming off as more competent.

And Admiral Zhao being incompetent yet super Egotistical was a change I welcome.

The bounty hunter Jun, flirting with Iroh was a change I wasn’t expecting but loved.

The Face Stealer may have looked more terrifying… but his actual action was mid… aside from the nightmares.

The rest of the character acting was a mix.

I gotta put this at… 5/10

When most of the main cast feels so bland it really takes away from the story.

____________________________________________

The Plot

So the season still follows the general plot of Book 1 of ATLA.

Katara and Sokka find the Avatar who got frozen for a long time. They go travel to help Aang find a Waterbending master so he can start learning to bend and save the world.

Now interestingly since it only has 8 episodes it sort of Blends together several plots into one episode. And this causes a lot of changes… and the effects of it are… well… a mixed bag at best and almost completely undefinable at worst.

Episode 4 being especially messy.

Now there are additions and changes from the original because of the constraints of Live Action.

Like not specifying that Aang has been gone 100 years, and actually changing certain story beats to references in order to save on time.

In some cases, it’s understandable. In facts being a one to one retelling would be boring.

The problem is that the story feels more like it’s pushing the characters rather than the characters pushing the story. Aang had agency, but now there is even more forced Agency.

I did like the changes that made the fire nation more competent. (I’ll discuss further in the next section)

But overall, I felt that the story was speed blitzed and super monologue heavy at its worse. It’s nothing incoherently awful. But it’s very lacking.

4/10

_________________________________________

The Changes

There were a Lot of changes done to this in comparison to the original series. So for this. I decided to make a new system.

I will list the change. If you see this Symbol (+) it’s a change I am fine with. If you see (-) it’s a change I didn’t like. And if you see (\) it means I’m indifferent to it.

-Fire Lord Sozin wiped out Air benders in person (/)

- Aang got lost in a storm by accident, not actively running away (-)

- Katara and Sokka lose the feminist development (-)

-No penguin sledding (- -)

-No Haru (-)

-Avatar Kyoshi take over (+)

-Zuko has a journal about the Avatars (+)

- Jet in Omashu (/)

-Teo and his father in Omashu (+)

-Bumi is jaded. (-)

-Secret tunnel early (-) (it’s weird that Sokka and Katara go in there, there is more I don’t like but I will just leave that out for now)

-The Funeral for Iroh’s son. (+++)

-The Agni Kai with Ozai was changed (-)

-The crew of Zuko is revealed to be the division that would have been sacrificed. (+)

-Aang never Water bends (-)

-Azula’s whole character alteration, and earning the blue flames (-)

-Less Serious Roku (-)

-Koh’e whole deal (-)

- Zhao’s death is different. (-)

-Yue having a bigger connection to Sokka (+)

-Fire nation demonstrates far more competence (+)

-

There are more but most of them I’m more understanding because of Time Constraints.

I will give credit that a lot of the changes I didn’t like but they did try something.

3/10

______________________________________

Does it capture the Spirit?

This is where I have to say Kind of.

When you see the references, Cameos, and the small details. You can tell there is some love for the original series. The attention to details and the bending choreography is gorgeous and Almost seamless.

It’s where we get to the core of the show that feels different.

For example. The Netflix version of One piece. There are a TON of differences, but the core of the characters felt the same. The spirit of the show was still clear. It was handled with love.

With this series, I can say there is a respect for ATLA, but the core seems to have a different focus.

So I put this at 5/10

As there are some things that you can see have reverence, but other things that don’t.

_________________________________________

Conclusion.

The stark defenders of the show say you shouldn’t compare it to the Original because it will seem worse. While also then comparing how much better it is compare to the live action movie.

Here’s the truth, if you watched ATLA, you are not going to expect this show to be better than the original.

If you didn’t watch the original show, you would probably be entertained, and since this show explains basically everything, you won’t need to know as much as the viewer going in… but there is also a lot going on.

If you were to go in and watch this show with 0 understanding of the show. I’d say 6 maybe 7 out of 10.

But if you are a fan that cares about the show. I have to put it at 5/10

And that’s where I put it.

5/10

It is watchable, but I’m not absolutely smitten with it.

I’m willing to give book 2 a chance… but I’m iffy. On it.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #natla #natla spoilers #avatar the last Airbender live action #atla live action #Gale reviews

[bellabrady]

Hey! I want to say absolutely no hate here, you can think whatever you want about characters, I just want to make some points for you to consider! If it makes you change your mind, cool! If it doesn’t, well that follow button doesn’t need my finger on it since we clearly have different views :)

I am not going to be commenting on Chim begins since I haven’t watched it in a while, but I just finished rewatching Hen Begins and was discussing Bobby Begins Again with someone, so here we go.

In Hen Begins, Tommy is never hostile towards her. He doesn’t defend her from the captain, but he’s also a young gay man who is probably terrified of that same hate being turned to him. When Hen is doing her speech on the fire truck most of the crew has tightened jaws and seems mad, but Tommy seems relaxed and thoughtful. And at the end of the episode he tells Hen: “We would’ve done a sweep of the area eventually, but eventually would’ve been too late. Good job.” with a smile and then proceeds to shake her hand and pat her on the shoulder. It is also heavily implied that he was one of the people who left a complaint about the captain and his treatment. Everything about this episode screams a man who was keeping his head low and trying to slip under the radar, not a man trying to be hateful.

In Bobby Begins Again, they throw him a nice going away party. I don’t know about you, but I don’t tend to buy assholes who are rude to me a cake.

Then later Chimney is able to call him up and ask a favor that Tommy does without complaint, which makes it seem like they’re on good terms.

And in the most recent episodes, he steals a helicopter and lies to higher-ups, something that could easily get him fired and cause him to lose everything. Once again, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t risk my job and my life (they were on a dangerous mission after all) for people I’m not good friends with.

Lastly, Buck does not strike me as the type to date someone who doesn’t like his friends, his family

Again, no hate, just giving you my observations

thank you for being so nice about this!

i do disagree, however. tommy was 100% hostile to hen in hen begins. ('new york bitchiness is a compliment?' for example, or him throwing gear at her feet so she'll tidy it up and barely sparing her a glance)

i also am simply not a fan of giving characters' past actions depth when it's very clear that back then, they weren't written with that depth in mind. i can promise you the writers did not write hen begins & chimney begins while thinking of tommy as a gay, closeted man. (yes, i'm aware there was that one jacob twilight joke but personally i think you might be giving the writers a little too much credit if you think that was planned forshadowing or something. it was just a silly scene)

furthermore, even if we do run with the whole 'tommy was afraid to speak up because he was afraid and closeted'...standing up against misogyny and racism has nothing to do with being closeted, since neither of those things are related to sexuality, so standing up against those things won't make anyone assume that you're gay. tommy being closeted isn't an excuse, in my opinion.

i'm also aware that the characters have forgiven tommy but i just...don't really care about that because in this show, everyone forgives everyone, constantly. buck forgave his parents and they have a good relationship now — that doesn't mean i have to forgive the buckley parents now too.

as for your last point, i'd argue taylor definitely wasn't the biggest fan of buck's friends and family and they weren't a huge fan of her either. but i also don't think that really matters here, since it's been established that tommy is good with hen and chim, so buck has no reason to assume there's bad blood. it once again boils down to the simple fact that i, as a viewer, do not have to forgive a character's actions simply because other characters did.

anyway, once again thank you for not being rude about this and i hope you have a nice day :)

(i hope my response doesn't come across as rude either)

#911 fox #anti tommy kinard #anti bucktommy #evan buckley #9-1-1

[oneprompt]

Because you write Zoro as well, may I request NSFW/suggestive headcanons of Zoro, Kid, and Who's Who with F!S/O (you could change it to GN if you feel mote comfortable), S/O gives him a hickey/mark in a place where people could see it directly and S/O teases him about it. Thank you and take care of yourself!

authors note : take care of yourself too , dearest <3 sorry for not posting the last few days btw ;;; i was very very busy with ... important matters. well.. !! please enjoy these to the fullest ..!

<3 <3 <3

SLIGHT NSFW

<3 <3 <3

Zoro x F! Reader : Leaving a noticeable hickey on him

- The delivery certainly caught Zoro off guard. He isn’t that used to you ever doing anything like that, as he’s usually the type to carry all the dominance in the bedroom. But the moment you suck and bite at his flesh, Zoro’s holding back a heep of moans. He refuses to let you know how good it felt to be branded by your mouth, your lips and teeth leaving a trail of hickies along his collar bone. 

- Zoro may keep a poker face during the whole thing but seeing marks left by your lips on him really gets him going. The throbbing sensation of his raw flesh, the deep pigment, the small bits of gloss left behind when it’s fresh... Zoro can’t say he dislikes it... But he’s not going to tell you that he enjoyed it, not to your face. Even days after, Zoro still gets aroused looking at the fading marks. 

- Zoro doesn't exactly think about it, nor does he care to hide it too much. It's just another trophy to him, similar to his scars. He doesn't really feel any reason to be embarrassed about it. It's no secret that you two are an item, and with dating comes fucking, right? You have to be an absolute moron to not connect two and two together.

- Out of you two, you're bound to be the one to get embarrassed about it. Once the crew, well, once most of the crew picks up on it, you'll get lots of under the table comments and teasing. "I had no clue you were such a passionate lover, Y/n." Robin beams at you, letting such a humiliating sentence fall from her lips like it's nothing. "I can't help but feel a little bit jealous of Zoro." The crew is bound to leave you a stuttering mess, face on fire as you rapidly decline any of their questions or comments.

- I just know Zoro flaunts his hickey around Sanji, especially when that love cook is attempting to woo you. “I got you your parfait, my sweet!” Sanji worships you like an absolute goddess, regardless of your relationship with Zoro. If anything, that pushes him to try and win your heart further... Once Zoro notices that insufferable voice, he’ll repeat every lewd thing you did to him the night before. “Y/n, you gotta ease up with your mouth next time. I think you gave my dick a hickey, too.” Sanji is already rushing away after he hears that, unsure on if his eyes should produce tears or if his nose should be leaking with blood. It’s an image Sanji loves but that marimo... he ruins everything! Zoro can’t help but laugh at Sanji’s helpless reaction, even after you get up to chase the blonde, shouting out endless apologies. 

- Even if a stranger asks about the mark, Zoro’s just gonna be blunt with them. “Oh, this? It’s nothing fight related. My girlfriend is an absolute freak.” The only limits he has about the hickey is you telling Luffy or Chopper. Zoro doesn’t care if anyone else knows about it’s origins but if you tell those two, he’s gone. He’ll turn into a strawberry the moment Luffy glances at him, head cocked to the side. “Y/n’s got a mouth tough enough to injure you, Zoro? She’s crazy strong!” Luffy and Chopper may be mostly oblivious to what it’s from and why you did such a thing to your lover... but Zoro knows. Knowing you told his adored captain and little Chopper about your sexcapades... He just can’t help but get flustered to the core. Definitely giving you the silent treatment. 

Kid x F! Reader : Leaving a noticeable hickey on him

- Kid treats everything as a competition, including sex. If you want to to do the slightest dominant thing one night, you have to fight for that. But the moment you catch him off guard, you latch onto your boyfriends neck, teeth digging into his pale nape. With that, you started a dual. Not just any dual but a mouth dual. You can’t get away with doing such an embarrassing thing to him so easily...!

- By the time you two are done fucking, you’re both covered in slobber, lip stick, and hickies. Kid may have been making a fuss over the mark but he enjoyed it. Not the act itself but the outcome. He enjoys a good competition, as well as the sight of you, covered in his passion. I suppose you two settled for a tie, hm? 

- No one in the crew bothers to ask the next day when they see you and Kid covered from head to toe. They all can tell what happened, both from your visuals and well, what they overheard the whole night... If any one dares to ask Kid what did happen, they’re getting a punch square in the eye. His girlfriend doesn’t overpower him, no, no...! 

- Kid doesn’t really cover them. He would like to but none of his clothing hide it well, as you went ham on his neck and collar. He finds them hot but he can’t find much pride in them, considering they show the fact it’ll suggest he’s not all that he’s cracked up to be. He tries to hide his embarrassment by teasing you for your own hickeys but it always come back to bite him in the ass.. 

- Tries to lie about how he totally destroyed you in bed (usually to Killer.) Even if it’s so painfully obvious that he didnt, Killer has to support his captain. “You sure did...! Y/n didn’t stand a chance, heh..” behind his mask, there’s a huge and awkward smile. No way is Kid trying to convince him of such a bogus lie... But regardless, he has to be Kid’s biggest cheerleader. That’s his best friend!

- That’s not to say Killer won’t let you give him an earful. He’s a double agent, in that sense... He loves you and Kid! Plus, you aren’t wrong when you claim Kid can be a bit subby because that’s incredibly apparent, with how he was looking... But if Kid were to find out, Killer would be dead..!

Who’s Who x F! Reader : Leaving a noticeable hickey on him

- Who’s Who is far too invested in the moment to feel your mouth grasping his chest, leaving hefty kiss marks all over him, bruises spawning. He just keeps thrusting and thrusting, hands yanking at your hair. He’s in his own world at that point, rambling degrading words to you, feasting on your body. 

- The morning after, he’s extremely moody. Who’s Who goes to his meetings, suit jacket entirely buttoned up for once. He thinks he’s fooling everyone but no, it’s obvious. The Tobi Roppo don’t bother to beat around the bush, not even close. “Did that Y/n chick suck on your tits too much?” Who’s Who is bound to throw a fit, fighting with his fellow Tobi Roppo’s. Mainly Sasaki

- Who’s Who tries his best to ignore you. You hurt his already bruised ego, whether you meant to or not. He hides himself in his room all day, desperately trying to apply makeup over his chest. Spoilers: no amount of foundation covers the love bites. 

- You try your best to get back on your boyfriends good side, claiming that you just did it to show your love, which is the truth. But Who’s Who refuses each apology you deliver him, keeping his nose up high like an uptight prick. You can’t understand why he’s so upset, clearly oblivious to the internal battle he’s fighting between his ego and his horniness. 

- The truth is Who’s Who loved that feeling you gave him so much. The feeling of your lips clamping down on his skin, tightening the same way your pussy did around his cock, right as he blew his load into you. That damn hickey drew him over the edge, feeling utterly sensational. I suppose it was a little nice to not have to always to do what he considered his normal... Wouldn’t you say?

- Of course, Who’s Who forgives you. It just takes the sweetest, almost pain inducing make-up sex for him to admit he forgives you for causing him such lengths of shame. It isn’t cutesy make-up sex, either. It’s aggressive, often leaving your beautiful, glimmering image in shambles.Covered in drool, cum and bruises you can’t help but repeat your lovers name, being fucked completely dumb by him. 

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece imagine #one piece imagines #one piece smut #one piece fanfic #one piece headcanons #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #eustass kid #kid one piece #kid x you #kid x reader #kid x y/n #who's who #who's who op #who's who x reader #who's who x you #who's who x y/n #x reader #reader insert #smut #smut headcanons

[microcomets]

can i ask for your thoughts on the netflix atla adaption? 👉👈 value ur opinion on media

aw, thank you!!! i admit i'm only halfway through watching s1, so my opinions may change as i reach the end of the season, but i can outline some of my thoughts so far!

pros:

overall, with a few exceptions, i think the casting so far is really solid. the asian and indigenous representation within the show is something they clearly took very seriously, and it shows! especially for a netflix show, that's something really groundbreaking and important and refreshing to see; and obviously a huge improvement on past whitewashed adaptations. overall, i think most of the effects are good, despite some weird cinematography choices — there are a handful of moments where the CGI looks particularly egregious, but overall, the bending and choreo look COOL. the opening scene of the pilot had me by the throat, even as it made very clear what a different kind of adaptation this would be. overall, i tend not to be too fussy about an adaptation altering things from originals to make more sense in different formats (with caveats, as i'll mention in the cons lol), so i wasn't mad about the way they've fused some of the storylines to make it flow better in a 60-minute format. (although i do question bringing in s2 stories so early, such as the secret tunnel.) there have been some moments where they've either built out character relationships (like zuko and iroh) or brought in supplementary canon from korra and the comics, which i have also enjoyed as a huge fan of the original. there are a few additions that i've really loved and had fun with — zuko's dream journal, for one, lmao, and his and aang's street fight in omashu.

cons:

honestly, my biggest gripe so far has been the alterations to characterization and character motivation. the cast and crew were sort of smugly talking about removing misogyny from the original and "updating" it, which is ironic because i think the live action is actually more sexist in many ways.

my BIGGEST disappointment has been katara, with no shade to the actor. this is one of the characters who means the most to me from the original, and the character that has hands-down been the least recognizable in natla. her fire, her temper, her unruliness, and her bossiness — all to say, her human traits — have been completely sanitized, presumably to avoid drawing any kind of criticism that she's "annoying." her anger is quite literally what kickstarts the entire show: katara losing her temper with sokka cracks open the iceberg that releases aang. katara's anger is, in a lot of ways, an outlet not only for her sense of injustice in the world, but also an outlet for coping with 1) immense colonial trauma and 2) the burden of being parentified. this, in my view, is IMPORTANT for young girls and particularly young girls of color to see — that anger doesn't have to be something you shy away from, but that you can embrace as a weapon of resistance. this anger is missing entirely, except in small snatches, from natla katara. the moments that make katara a flawed, interesting character — such as her stealing the waterbending scroll and getting jealous of aang's natural prowess — have been scrubbed completely. it is nearly impossible, at this point, to imagine this version of katara bloodbending or taking vengeance for her mother in s3. i think the re-characterization is a big misstep, due more to poor writing than anything. even the agency of katara's bending is "unlocked" and coached by male characters like aang (ep 1) and jet (ep 3), when katara is supposed to be the one teaching aang!

the inversion of sokka and katara's relationship — that is to say, parentifying sokka and making katara more of a "little sister" figure — is also a huge misstep IMO, because it misses a lot of the characterization fundamental to katara's arcs in the original, and even her later conflicts with other characters like toph. in s3 in the original, sokka says when he pictures his mother, he can only picture katara's face — this is, again, a central aspect to their dynamic and to katara's character! my guess is that they removed katara's overmothering qualities to avoid accusations of being anti-feminist, but ironically, by not acknowledging that in-text the way the original does, it bakes misogyny unspokenly into the atla world rather than explicitly acknowledging and challenging it. to clarify again, i have NOT seen the end of the season yet — i am curious what they do with katara's confrontation with paku, which is one of the biggest grapplings with misogyny in the original text. but for me, removing katara's motherly qualities/parentification, and above all her unsavory traits, are not accomplishing anti-sexist work the way the writers think they're doing, but rather sanitizing the original's social commentary on gender altogether.

one of my biggest squicks thus far has been suki and sokka's relationship; i saw suki's characterization described by someone here as a farmer girl p*rn trope where a naive village waif looks to a man to show her the outside world, or w/e, and i hate that this is what they did to suki's character. they keep her warrior qualities, yes, but this is undercut for me by the cringe comphet romance tropes of making her a wide-eyed blushing virgin around sokka. the insta-romance in the original makes more sense to me, obviously because of the format, but because in the span of 20 minutes, suki has taught sokka what it is to respect and reevaluate his relationship with women and femininity. the writers bragged about removing this from the natla representation, so what we have now is that suki doesn't really teach sokka anything substantial about himself, other than some moves. rather, it's sokka teaching suki about what it is to be "worldly" and how to unlock carnal desires. tbh, i hate that! lol! but that's just my onion.

zuko has been one of the strongest and most well-acted characterizations by far, but i do have a gripe with how they shifted his primary motivation from regaining his honor to reclaiming the throne. zuko at his essence has never been a power-hungry character. his entire drive, as we are told exhaustively through both the show and memes of the original, is regaining his honor — which is also an important cultural trope for many japanese warrior characters (though others not me can speak far more in-depth to this). his search for lost honor is incredibly important, if not central, to his entire character arc, which is zuko discovering that his honor does not come by acknowledgement from his abusive family or even imperial power, but through his own integrity and ethical code. so to have him make several lines about rightfully regaining what's his, the throne, and to make that the primary point of contention between him and azula.....is a misunderstanding, again, of the crucial aspects of zuko's character.

my other nitpicks with the characters are smaller — i miss sokka's slapstick, which has been substituted with very dry humor (and i understand this makes more sense for live action). i am still on the fence about how i feel about making ozai and azula such central characters in s1; i understand why they felt this was necessary for live action, but having those two be shadow figures in the original s1 was a really cool narrative effect for not only establishing zuko initially as a villain within his own right, but for building narrative suspense as to the fire nation's motivations.

ultimately, there's just some secret x ingredient that's missing from the live action that the original nailed effortlessly — maybe it's the sense of fun and wonder? i haven't really had fun watching this adaptation; i'm more just spectating, like watching some pretty fireworks before i move on with my day. my opinion may change slightly, as i hear the show is stronger in the second half; i wouldn't even say it's a BAD adaptation, but overall i feel like it's just kinda....meh, and i still question why it needs to exist in the first place when there are some things that animation as a medium just does far better.

also i just want to point out that i find it extremely frustrating that this show leans very hard into showing the atrocities and Moral Evil of genocide in literally the first 20 minutes of episode 1 and that while netflix wants the virtue-signaling brownie points for that, they'll still continue to give giant paychecks and platforms to brazen zionists. because after this dies down, the stranger things promo cycle is going to start up.

#anonymous #asks

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

Captain Bishop

Originally posted on my Wattpad @MayaBishop_is_myWife

Relationship: Maya Bishop x fem!reader Fluff

Word count: 2.6k

Y/N POV:  I feel my nerves going wild as I walk through the doors of Station 19. I used to work at Station 10 but, I got offered a position here for what reason i'm still unsure but, who says no to a job at the 19? I am really excited because I've heard so many stories about these guys and they're basically famous in the firefighter world.

I look around for a second before seeing someone walking my way.  Andy - "Hey can I help you?" she said with a warm smile.  Y/N - "Yeah, un I'm your transfer from Station 10." Andy - "Oh yeah y/l/n (your last name) right?" Y/N - "Yeah that's me." Andy - "Okay great, uhm I'll go get Captain Bishop to give you the run down." Y/N - "Okay thank you." Andy - "Oh, I'm Andrea Herrera by the way, but call me Andy."  She extended her hand for me to shake and I took it. Y/N - "Okay Andy." She gave me a smile and turned towards a door that I assume leads to the Captain's office, considering it had 'Captain Bishop' plastered across the front I would think I'm right, and she knocked on the door opened it and said Andy - "Hey Bishop the new girl's here"  Maya - "Send her in."

I walk in and sitting behind the desk is probably the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen, and I've seen many in my time. Her piercing blue eyes stared at me her beautiful blonde hair slicked back into a ponytail and a smile on her lips, wow. I sit down on one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk and wait for her to say something. She speaks up as soon as I sit down. Maya - "Hey, so I'm Captain Maya Bishop, I don't really care if you call me Maya, or Bishop or Captain, like I really don't care but there are a few ground rules here so.." She explains all the rules about the Station like not taking other people things, or food out of the fridge for that matter, or when you're on Aid Car you don't go on calls no matter how big, you stay on your task, and most of all don't be rude or cruel to the others. She told me they're like family and family have each others back which I though was really sweet. Maya - "So now that that's over and done with, let's give you a tour of the place."

She began to lead me round the Station, showed me the locker area, changing rooms, inventory rooms, bedroom type things and so on.

The last place of the list was the beanery because that's when I'd meet everyone. We walked in while the team were eating their breakfast and chatting amongst themselves. Maya - "And this is the beanery the best place in the Station in my opinion."  The crew chuckled and murmured in agreement with her before realising she was giving me a tour. Jack - "Oh hey, you're the transfer from 10 aren't you?" Y/N - "Yeah I am, I'm y/n y/l/n by the way." Jack - "Jack Gibson." Vic - "Victoria Hughes, but everyone calls me vic." Travis - "Travis Montgomery." Dean - "Dean Miller." Andy - "I already told you my name so don't expect another introduction." Everyone laughed at her antics and then invited me and Maya to sit down.

The first minute was awkward but after the ice broke a bit it felt like we'd all been friends our entire lives. I sat next to Maya and to say I was a little nervous would be a massive understatement. I mean, who wouldn't be nervous, she's literally perfect but, she's my captain, she's Captain Bishop and I can't have feeling like that towards my Captain so I just tried to push those thoughts to the back of my mind while we were talking with everyone which surprisingly worked.

Time skip

By this point we were all just doing mind numbing chores like checking the hoses and stocking the rigs when the klaxon rang out.  Klaxon - "Aid Car 19 respond, Apartment fire Maine Street" We all rushed to get our gear on and got in the trucks. Andy was driving, I was in the back and Maya was in the front with Andy. Me and Maya had to stick together today because I'm new and she's the Captain or something like that. I didn't really understand I mean it's not like I'm a rookie I just transferred but whatever, I get to spend the entire shift with Maya, I'm not complaining. Andy slows down and comes to a stop outside a 5 story apartment building with a raging fire on the 3rd floor that was ripping its way through the building. Maya - "Okay people listen up! Herrera, Gibson go get the hoses set up and ready for use, Montgomery, Miller, Hughes start evac in the building get everyone out of there!"  She was so hot when giving orders. Oh my god. I've got to stop thinking like that.  Maya - "y/l/n, you're with me. We're doing a sweep of the building, look for structural damage that could cause harm or poses a threat to our team or possible vics inside and close any and every fire door in that place to help get this beast under control you got it?" Y/N - "Got it Captain." Maya - "Good, okay come on people let's roll."  She yelled that last part out to everyone.

We put on our masks and hooked up our oxygen tanks and set off into the building, the first floor was completely untouched by the fire and only a very small amount of smoke was coming through the vents and a lot of people were already waiting there for evacuation. The same can't be said for the second floor though. The fire had already ripped through the walls and smoke was heavy. It was really fast spreading too, we were dealing with a big one.

As we are making our way through I hear a creaking noise and head to check it out, the fire has spread to the support beams, the building is officially extremely unstable. I radio in my findings and tell Maya. Maya - "Okay, damn. We're gunna have to work a lot quicker than what we though. I've swept the whole of my side are you done?"  Y/N - "Yep, no vics and fire doors are closed." Maya - "Okay good, we're heading up onto the floor that the fire started on so please be careful while we're up there okay?" Y/N - "I will be, same goes for you okay?" Maya - "Yeah don't worry your pretty little head about me." I chuckled and followed behind her as we walked to the stairwell. She had an unfamiliar softness in her tone when she told me to be careful, it wasn't the kind of careful you'd say to anyone or in like a 'you're my friend so I care about you' way, I don't know it was just different. But, I need to put that aside because we have bigger problems right now.

As soon as we open the door to the 3rd floor a wave of heat washes over us, making the pair of us step back a bit.  Maya - "Wow, you got your fire extinguisher?"  Y/N - "Yep, you got yours?" Maya - "Yeah, don't be shy to use it okay? This is a big one and I don't  want you getting injured." Y/N - "Same goes for you Maya, don't try to be a hero, put yourself first."  She smiled before walking in and telling me to take the right side and she'll take the left. 

It had been about 20 minutes since we parted ways and I had just shut the last door and finished my sweep. I looked around and there was no sign of Maya anywhere.  Over radio -  Y/N - "Captain you there?" ~ static Y/N - "Captain Bishop?" ~ static Y/N - "Maya, I need an update." ~ static

Shit. I quickly switch channels and say I'm not getting a response from Maya so I'm going to look for her.  Over radio -  Jack - "Do not go in there alone, wait for backup. That's an order from your lieutenant y/l/n." Y/N - "Gibson! I need to go in it's been over 20 minutes since we split off to sweep so who knows how long she's been down," I say in anger, "I'm going on whether you like it or not." Jack - "Hey! Y/l/n don't you da-"

I switched back to the channel me and Maya were using and tried radioing her again. Still no response. I begin to trace her steps looking at hallways with closed fire doors, which she's obviously not down because she'd close the doors as she comes out so she doesn't block herself in, and finally I see one that's completely open all the way down apart from one, right at the end of the corridor.

As I make my way down I hear that dreaded beep. It was Maya's PASS device. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I quietly mumble to myself as I pick up the pace and follow the sound.

I come to a room and see a collapsed, actually I don't even know what that is but Maya's under it so right now it doesn't matter what it is. I manoeuvre around it and pull up one side that snaps off and i throw it in the other direction. I pull up piece after piece until I finally see her red hard hat sticking out. I don't exactly know what came over me, probably adrenaline but after seeing that I placed my hands under that slab and lift it off her in one big motion. 

I immediately crouch down and check her pulse, stable and strong. Good. As I'm doing this a piece of wall collapses right next to us. So that's what it was. Because of this Maya begins to stir as I try to give her my oxygen mask. Maya - "What happened- hey no no no, you need that." Y/N - "and? so do you, you were crushed by a wall." As I said this another massive flame went up opposite us. Maya - "Y/n listen to me, leave me here, get out now." Y/N - "No way, I'm not leaving you behind, nothing you can say will make me change my mind." Maya - "Y/n pleas-" I cut her off before she can say anything else by licking her up bridal style and I begin walking out of the building. At that point back up had arrived and we're just arriving on the 3rd floor as I was carrying Maya out.  Jack - "I told you not to go in alone!" Y/N - "Yeah well, when your Captain's PASS device is going off and she's being crushed by a wall in a burning building, there isn't really any time to wait for back up Gibson." He sighs and agrees as we walk out. Andy and Jack had handed off the hoses to Vic and Travis and Dean was helping patch people up so, they finished our sweep while I carried Maya out the building. 

As soon as we got outside I took her mask of so she could breath and then took off my own. I walked over to the rig and set her down on a stretcher. She had slipped unconscious again at this point. I put the oxygen mask over her and checked her vitals.  Dean - "Hey, what happened? I heard some commotion on the radio." Y/N - "A wall collapsed on her so I had to get her out but so far from what I can tell from the work up she has no crush injury's and her vitals are stable so she would be just fine." Dean - "That's good, and thank you for saving her y/n. Means a lot and, is a very good first impression." I chuckle and say no problem. My attention is them drawn back to the stunning blonde woman i front of me as she begins to stir.  Maya - "Hey, what happened? Am I okay? I mean I'm not in any pain so I assume I'm okay." Y/N - "Yeah surprisingly you're completely fine, you must be the chosen one or something because when most people have a wall collapse on them they sustain some form of crush injury's but you? None." Maya - "It's because I'm just so awesome and intimidating that the wall was too scared to hurt me." Y/N - "Oh really?" Maya - "Yeah, mhm." I started giggling at her antics "What? You don't think I'm intimidating?" Y/N - "Well... I mean, a smile like yours doesn't exactly scream 'I'm scary be afraid of me!' to be completely honest with you."  Maya - "What's that supposed to mean? You think I've got a nice smile? Because if so then I think your smile is stunning just for the record" Y/N - "I think you've got a beautiful smile. I think you're beautiful."  Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink with this comment and she looked down. Maya - "Thanks, oh and thanks for saving my life as well." Y/N - "All in a days work." Maya - "Oh my god that is so corny!" I laugh at her comment and her smile just widens at me. Maya - "What can I do to repay you?" Y/N - "Now you sound corny, but in all honesty, you don't have to give me anything. It's not like I was just gunna leave you." Maya - "I know what I can do." Y/N - "Oh yeah, and what's that gunna be?" I ask teasingly. She grabs my hand and gets off the stretcher and drags me into the rig. Maya - "Come closer." I take a step closer to her and her other and finds it's way to my hips while the other still clutches my hand. She's a few center meters taller than me so I have to look up at her, her shining blue eyes that are usually so hard to read are now filled with love and care. I blush and look down. She brings a finger to my chin and makes me look up at her. Maya - "Hey, don't look away. Then I won't get to see your pretty face and, I won't get to give you your payment." Y/N - "Which is?" I ask completely clueless as to what's about to happen. She takes one look at me and her eyes flick down to my lips before she leans in. I was shocked at first and didn't respond but after snapping back to reality I kissed her back. Our mouths glided against  each other as if we'd done it a million times before. Her soft lips felt like heaven on mine. She ran her tongue across my bottom lip asking for access with I happily granted. My hand made its way up into her hair as her hand that was on my hips gravitated towards my waist. I pulled away to catch my breath. Y/N - "You know that was probably the best payment ever." Maya - "Really? Well you'll love the next part back at my house tonight, and tomorrow night at Joe's when I take you out." Y/N - "Oh really?" Maya - "Yep, so what do you say?" She seemed nervous. I made the Maya Bishop nervous? Wow. Y/N - "I would love to, especially the first part." She laughed and gave me a peck on the lips and let go of me. Maya - "I'll see you after the shift then." I said bye and watched her leave to go help patch up some vics.

How had I gotten so lucky?

#maya bishop #maya bishop x reader #station 19 #wlw #wlw fanfic #lesbian #lesbian pride

[hoodharlow]

Otra Noche en Miami

AN: guess who finally updated after a month lol

Requested? no

Warnings: SMUT (the p finally goes in the v), people talking shit and defining the relationship 

Word Count : 6.6k words

Tonight was the night Miriam was going to sleep with Jack. The night Jack dropped her off from the Clippers game and they almost hooked up, she thought they were gonna have phone sex via facetime. But they didn't. Jack showed his vulnerable side and explained that as much as he wanted to have sex and all the good stuff, he wanted to take things slow with her because part of him still had to prove to her that he was worthy of her. 

Miriam respected that and agreed to wait. She just didn't think that she was supposed to wait this long. The most she thought were two weeks, but over five weeks have passed. And it wasn't like there were instances that they could have had sex because there were several. 

After he finished his work commitments in LA and his appearance in Las Vegas, he was free for the next few weeks. He flew Miriam out to Louisville, with the excuse that she and Daisy could spend the Fourth of July with his family and not alone in Atlanta since her family was in Europe. Jack's mom made sure that Miriam had the most relaxing time and insisted that she have her own room. Much to Jack and Miriam's dismay. Though she did enjoy the few days she spent with his family. Everyone was so welcoming and kind to her and Daisy. 

Jack spent a few more days in his hometown while Miriam returned to Atlanta for work. Once he arrived in Atlanta they were practically attached to each other. When she wasn't needed on set, she'd visit Jack at the studio and drop him off some food and vice versa. Whenever Jack wasn't at the studio he was on set hanging out in Miriam's trailer. Tonight wasn't different. 

She was finishing up a scene when Jack pulled up to set. He made small talk with Beto while he waited for her to come to her trailer. Half an hour later she rushed in covered in what he hoped was fake blood.

"Sorry, I know I said nine, but the scene wasn't coming out how Greta wanted." She said going straight to her changing area. 

"Did it come out how she wanted?" He asked her.

"Yeah, I'm gonna quickly rinse this off and we'll be on our way." She said walking out in just her bra and panties.

Jack nodded and went back to texting Neelam. She was annoyed that he wasn't flying out with the team to Miami because he was flying out the morning of his appearance for Rolling Loud. Miriam was wrapping up filming the day before and he wanted to fly with her. To his surprise when he invited her to Miami, she had already planned to go because Alina Hunter was performing the same night he was.

Ten minutes later she came out with a towel wrapped around her body. She had forgotten her clothes. Then she went to her changing area and walked out dressed in a forest green racerback sports bra and matching biker shorts. 

"Okay I'm ready." She announced. 

Jack helped her carry her things to his car. With Beto tailing behind them to make sure the few paps that linger around the set don't get pictures of Jack and Miriam. One of the crew members, who was now fired, leaked a picture of Miriam and Oscar Isaac kissing, implying that they were more than co-stars but thankfully the people that saw the picture deduced it was from set because of the cameras and lighting in the background. But the paps hung around just in case.

When they reached Jack's car, Beto reminded Miriam to text him if she wasn't going back to her house. She waved him off. She thanked Jack for holding the door for her to climb in. He went around and slipped in the driver's side. She watched him start the car and tightly grip the back of her headrest as he carefully pulled out of the parking spot. Her eyes trailed down the length of the prominent vein on his forearm. She pulled out her phone and texted Claudia now getting why she said someone holding the passenger side's headrest when they went in reverse was the most attractive thing ever. 

"Where do you wanna eat?" He asked as he handed her his phone to play music. 

"I'm good with whatever you pick." She said, typing the artist she wanted to play.

"Chick-fil-A?" He suggested.

"I guess. I've never been." Miriam shrugged, adjusting the volume as Wisin y Yandel played.

Jack pressed the brake a little too hard, making the car dramatically halt like in the movies. He turned to her with an incredulous look.

"You're joking." He said. 

"Nope." She shook her head.

"Guess it's my turn to take your virginity." He said hoping she remembered when she accidentally said she was taking his when he said he never had Roscoe's. 

"You're like seven and a half years too late." She mumbled, but Jack managed to hear.

His mouth slightly agape. He quickly closed and tried to do the math in his head as he made a U-turn to get on the freeway. She was twenty-two, but born in the same year as him which meant she was technically twenty-three like him even though her birthday was in November. Twenty-three minus seven and a half was–

"I was fifteen." Miriam said, doing the math for him.

"I was gettin' there." He murmured. "Not all of us studied engineering at Berkeley like you."

"Excuse you, I studied applied mathematics with a focus on quantum mechanics." She corrected him.

"Okay nerd." He teased her. 

He looked over to her and watched her text. A few seconds went by and it hit him that Miriam lost her virginity at fifteen. He knew better than to ask her considering how she mumbled her response. He didn't want to force her into talking about something that she didn't want to. He thought back to the list of people she's been with and the first name she said was someone she didn't like to talk about. If he connected the dots then that must've been the person she lost her virginity to. 

"You okay? You're oddly quiet." Miriam said softly. 

"Yeah, I was just thinking about the setlist for Miami." He said making a new subject for them to talk about as he entered the plaza where Chick-fil-A was.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, remembering something. "Claudia said if you could send her a rough draft of your setlist because she wants to show me some dance moves. According to her I can't shake my ass to the beat."

Jack tried to stifle his laugh with a cough, but he couldn't. He laughed out loud. Miriam was very talented and was good at almost everything tried. Except dancing. In 'In the Heights' it wasn't noticeable, but when he took her to a club in Louisville with some friends, it was very noticeable. 

"You're so mean!" She gasped.

"I ain't say shit." He said defensively. 

"You fucking laughed." She pouted. 

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "As someone who's Anglo-Saxon mixed with Anglo-Saxon, I should have known not to make fun of your inability to dance because you're 25% white."

"Apology accepted."

They reached the menu poster before the person who was standing with an iPad ready to take their order. 

"Wait, let me see the menu." Miriam said, unbuckling her seat belt and draping herself over the center console. 

"I told you to look up the menu." He said, pulling his arm from under her. He placed it over her body and waited for her to go over the menu. 

"Why is your hand on my ass?" She asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, now you have a problem with my hand? The other night you didn't seem to mind." He quipped. 

The other night, she stopped by at the studio before going to set. She had brought dinner, but the food was forgotten the second they climbed in Jack's car. They kissed and not long after, they made their way to the backseat and had a heated make out session. At some point Miriam had to take off her shorts because the denim was too thick and she liked feeling his hands on her ass. 

Remembering that she rode his thigh and got fingered by him that night, she gave him a shy smile and turned back to read the menu. She leaned down a bit, spreading her legs a bit so her ass was more in the air. But the passenger seat didn't extend as far as she needed and she fell.

"You good?" He asked with an amused tone as he pulled up to the guy with the iPad.

"Yeah," she nodded, collecting herself. "I, uh, want the spicy chicken sandwich with an oreo milkshake."

*

They ate their food on the drive back to Miriam's place. Jack parked in the driveway and helped her get her things from the backseat. Daisy poked her head through the blinds and barked happily seeing Jack was outside. 

"Do you wanna come in?" Miriam asked as she unlocked the door. "We can watch a movie or whatever."

"Yeah, I wanna say hi to my girl." He said.

He followed her inside and opened his arms so Daisy could jump on him. He cradled her like a human baby and scratched her belly. After a few minutes, the dog hopped off Jack and went inside her kennel. 

"So the tv is being stupid and not connecting to any of the streaming services." Miriam said, trying to pull up Netflix. She turned to Jack. "We can go old school and connect my laptop to the tv in my room."

"Whatever works." He shrugged.

Miriam led Jack to her room and grabbed the adapter cable to connect her MacBook with the HDMI cable. With ease, Netflix loaded and pressed play on the show they were binging. She had gotten him into a telenovela about this business man that has to move back to Mexico after his grandfather passed away and is forced into the family business. She'd already seen it, but she watched it for fun. Not to mention Renata Notni and Sebastian Ruli were in it so it was meant for bisexuals like her.

"I'm gonna shower, but yeah." She mumbled. 

Jack waved her off and glued his eyes to the screen. He heard the shower running louder than it should be, he turned his head and realized that Miriam hadn't shut the door. Her back was to him, giving a great view of her ass. He felt himself hardened and strain against his grey sweats. He averted his gaze back to the tv, but his eyes strayed back to Miriam. She was running her loofah over her body and Jack never felt more jealous of a ball of plastic. 

After a few minutes of torture, Miriam came out of the shower. She wrapped a towel around her body and got out. Jack heard her curse and came out to her bedroom. He pretended to be focused on reading the subtitles and not at her as she squatted in front of her dresser and grabbed some clothes.

Once again Jack's eyes trailed behind her when she returned to the bathroom. She unwrapped her towel and tidied up the bathroom, putting her dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. All while still not putting on clothes. Jack closed his eyes and prayed that she put them on. 

He placed one of her many pillows and placed it on top of the tent in his sweats. He clasped his hands together. He thought about the next few weeks and how he's going to be bouncing from state to state. He let sleep get the best of him and dozed off. He even managed to sleep through Miriam drying her hair with her diffuser. 

When she came out, she found him asleep with his arms crossed on his chest, so she turned off the tv, waking him up.

"I was watching that." He said, stifling a yawn.

"I'm sure you were." She said, climbing into bed. 

"I'm not tired." He insisted. 

"Okay," she said skeptically. She attached herself to his side and rested her head on his chest. "Can I change it to something else?"

"Go 'head." He shrugged.

Not wanting to move from her comfortable spot, Miriam used her soccer skills to kick the remote over to her, but failed. She ended up knocking it down to the ground. 

"Chingada madre." She muttered. 

She pulled away from Jack's side and crawled to the edge of her bed. She reached down to the carpet, feeling her shirt pool around her chest, giving Jack a spectacular view of her ass. She wiggled her fingers and was able to get the remote. She triumphantly sat up. 

"You fucking tease." He shook his head in disbelief. 

"Me?" Miriam asked, confused. She adjusted her oversized navy blue Berkelium t-shirt over her lace panties. It was hot and there was no way she was going to wear any bottoms. 

"Yes, you." He reiterated. "Fucking showing me your ass and shit. Don't get me started on the shit you pulled earlier."

"What did I do?" She tilted her head innocently. 

"'What did I do?'" He scoffed. "You showered with your door open and now you're out here in a shirt and panties."

"I'm sorry it's hot and I wanted to be comfortable in my house." She retorted. "Also you should not be talking about my choice of clothes when you're in fucking grey sweats–"

Jack cut her off by cupping her cheek and brought their lips together. He smiled against her lips as his hands began to wander. He slowly pulled away, making her whine, but he quickly made it up to her by kissing her neck. Remembering that she had a week of shooting left, he pushed her down on the mattress.

"What's Ber-ke-lium?" He asked, pushing up her shirt as he kissed up her body. 

"It's…" she stopped talking, basking in how his lips felt on her.

"It's what, Miriam?" Jack probed. He leaned over her and pulled the shirt off her.

"It's a radioactive metallic element that is a member of the actinide group of elements." She quickly said, taking advantage that he was taking off his clothes. 

"Mhm," he nodded, hovering over her. He kissed her neck and one of his hands wandered down to the waistband of her marigold lace panties. "Tell me more."

"Jack," Miriam whined. 

"What? Now you don't wanna let everyone and their grandma know you went to Berkeley?" He quipped, sliding off her panties. 

"I'm about to kick you out of my house and fuck myself." She warned him. 

"I was just playing." He said meekly. 

He settled between her thighs and placed her thighs on his shoulders. Jack peppered kisses all over her thighs. 

"But if you must know,  Berkelium is named like that because they discovered-slash-created it at a lab in the city Berkeley." She quickly added. 

"Mhm." He hummed, dipping his head in between her thighs.

He placed more soft kisses on the insides of her thighs. She squirmed at the feeling of his lips. They got closer and closer to where she needed him the most. She let out an inaudible gasp of pleasure when Jack licked her. She tried closing her legs, but Jack's grip on them kept her in place. He moaned at her taste and savored her, taking his time with his tongue. He pushed one of her legs to her chest, giving him better access to her as he sucked her clit.

He inserted another while he pressed his thumb on her clit. Miriam felt something build up in her. She felt pleasantly overwhelmed with Jack's fingers and tongue. Jack felt it too. He sped up his fingers and circled his thumb on her clit roughly.

"Jack!" She moaned out.

Jack lapped up her release. He dropped her legs down and laid next to her. He knew she was going to need a moment. He traced his thumb under her bottom lip. He leaned down and captured her lips. They kissed for a while with some touches here and there.

"Jack, please do something." Miriam whined. She reached for him and slowly pumped him.

"Bro give me a fucking second." He said, pushing her hand away from his cock. 

"My warning still stands." She reminded him. 

"You say that shit as if you weren't begging not even a minute ago." He said in a challenging tone. She crossed her arms and gave him an unamused look. He smirked and asked, "You said you were on the pill right?"

"No, I got the rod thingy in my arm." She said, lifting her arm. 

"Well you're about to get another rod in your pussy." He teased her. 

"When? Because at this rate, I'm not."

Jack grinned and leaned to kiss her. While they made out, he collected some of her arousal with his fingers and stroked himself. He lined himself up against her and slid into her. Miriam gasped and dug her nails in his biceps. He knew she was going to leave marks.

"You good?" He asked her.

"Yeah…it's been a while that's all." She reassured him. 

Jack nodded. He did a few shallow thrusts, slowly pulling out and pushing himself back in so she could get used to the stretch. She felt so good around him. After a few minutes he picked up the pace and her moans filled the bedroom. 

He tilted her head up so he could kiss her. His lips and tongue went at the pace he thrusted in and out of her. He wrapped one of her legs around him, bringing them closer as he took her. Her breath hitched at how good it felt. Jack must have noticed, and continued thrusting in that spot. The familiar feeling came over her once more. Miriam was about to come, and Jack knew it. His thrusts got more precise, hitting where she needed him.

“Come on, Miriam, let go for me.” He encouraged her. That pushed her over the edge, and she repeated Jack’s name over and over until her high faded. Jack continued thrusting in and out of her. His thrusts grew sloppy. 

After a few minutes passed, he stilled, shuddering he quietly moaned out, "shit," as he came inside her. He relaxed his body plopping on top of her. Their heavy breathing filled the room as they tried to calm themselves. One of Miriam's hands instinctively went to play with his now damp curls while one of Jack's rubbed her arm as he gave her a dopey grin. 

"Definitely worth the wait–"

"What were you saying about not being able to come through missionary?"  He asked, cutting her off. 

"I was trying to have a cute moment and your smartass had to ruin it." 

"Round two?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows, completely disregarding her comment.

"Yes." She beamed.

Miriam sighed as Jack pulled out of her. He rolled on his back and picked up his shirt to help her clean herself up. She got up to pee. As she limped passed him to get to the bathroom he gave her ass a hard smack. 

"Ow!" She squealed. She looked down and even in her brown skin, she could see the handprint he left her. "You left me a mark!"

"Gotta send you to Miami with a handprint on your ass cheek."

***

After his first time with Miriam, Jack quickly found out she can go multiple rounds in one session. Which was how he found himself in round two at eleven in the morning. They haven't even been in Miami for two hours. Hell they barely made it to her friend's dad's house before she was dropping to her knees to have him in her mouth. 

"Oh, fuck, just like that Jack." She moaned out. 

Miriam was riding him with her back to him. Her legs tucked under Jack's thighs. She leaned forward and gripped the comforter in front of her for balance as she bounced on his cock. She felt Jack sit up and press his chest on her back. One his hands wandered down to her clit, slowly drawing figure eights with his thumb while the other played with her nipples.

"Oh," she managed to murmur before her climax took over. She repeatedly chanted his name as she slowed her movements. 

Once her breathing calmed down, realization hit her and she looked over her shoulder. "Jack you didn't come."

"I know." He said nonchalantly, placing his hands under his head.

"Do you want me to go down on you?" She asked, pulling his cock out of her son she could straddle him but this time with her face facing his.

"As much as I appreciate it, I'm pretty sure you emptied my supply." He said, pushing back one of her curls. 

"Now I feel bad that you didn't come." She pouted.

"Don't feel bad, I just had some great sex with the greatest girl I know." He said, pulling her to his lips. 

He cupped her face with one hand and slowly kissed her. He sat up, and with his free hand he circled his arm around Miriam, pulling her closer to him. He felt her hand reach for his wrist and bring his hand to her chest. They continued kissing for a while with some touches here and there. 

There was a knock on the other side of the bedroom door that interrupted their makeout session. 

"Yeah?" Mirima called out as she pulled away from Jack. 

"G and Alina said when you're doing fucking yourselves to come eat brunch." Said one of her friends.

Jack furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to look at Miriam. "That sounds like Zendaya." 

"Because it's me." Zendaya said. 

"So Zendaya heard me rearrange your guts?" He gave Miriam a pointed look.

She shook her head. "No, Zendaya heard me rearrange my own guts using your dick."

"I'm gonna go downstairs. G said she's giving y'all half an hour to come down." 

They heard Zendaya's footsteps fade as she left them. 

"That's our queue." Jack said, gently smacking her ass so she could climb off. 

Thirty minutes later they finished getting ready. Miriam changed into a bikini with some shorts over her bottoms since her and her friends were staying later. Meanwhile Jack was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts because he had to meet with his team in an hour. 

When they walked out of the room Miriam was staying in, they were met with the smell of food and loud chatter in the kitchen. Miriam cursed, she knew her friends were not going to let it go. She had assumed only Zendaya stayed because she said that Euphoria was intense for her the last few weeks while the others went to go eat, but she was wrong. 

"Good morning." Her friends said in unison when she and Jack entered the kitchen.

"And from what we heard it was an extra good morning." Alina said as Claudia and Mede took some platters out to the backyard.

"You said you were going to get brunch!" Miriam said, greeting the elder Hunter sister. 

"No, I said we're going to get things for brunch." Alina clarified. 

"I didn't know we could bring our partners. I would've brought T." Zendaya said, opening the fridge to get a glass bottle of juice. 

"We flew out together and he dropped me off." Miriam mumbled.

"Right, that's why y'all spent the whole morning in your room," the Emmy award winning actress said, exchanging a knowing look with Alina before they left for the backyard where all the food was set up.

Jack shyly scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I, uh, should get going. I'll see–"

"You're not leaving until you eat something." Gia said, flipping over a waffle into the giant platter consisting of waffles, pancakes, and french toast.

"I'm not hungry." He insisted. "There's a car coming for me in half an hour."

"Okay, then you have thirty minutes to eat." She said in a tone that Jack knew better than to not listen. She nodded her head at the tall stack of plates. "Could you be so kind and carry the plates?" 

"Of course." Jack said, taking the stack. 

The only thing left to take outside was the coffee and tea tray so she carried it out. While Jack went around handing the girls plates, she prepared him a green tea. He took a seat and placed his arm behind Miriam's chair. 

"Here." She said, sliding him his mug of tea.

"Thanks." He said shyly. 

Miriam leaned over and kissed him. She cupped his cheek and deepened the kiss. 

"Is that how me and Cal are?" Claudia asked, making the pair pull away from their kiss. 

"No, you two would sneak out and go fuck, ruining our meal." Mede said, taking the fork to serve herself sausage. She looked over to Miriam and said, "you want sausage or did Jack give you enough this morning?"

*

"The pants are kinda a moment." Miriam said, eyeing Jack's pants with his last name bedazzled in the crotch area. "They definitely grab your attention."

"Stop staring at my dick." Jack murmured, taking a seat on the couch. 

They were in his trailer waiting for his queue so Miriam could go meet her friends to go see him perform. They were in Alina's trailer earlier and took a group picture with her friends. Within minutes of Zendaya posting it, it trended on Twitter. Mostly because people never expected Zendaya and Jack to ever be in the same room but also because Miriam was sitting on Jack's knee and had her arm around him. 

She got up from the stool and went to sit on his lap. She wiggled a bit, adjusting her shorts. Jack gave her a pointed look and she stopped her movements. The last thing he wanted was to get bricked up before going on stage. 

"So Miriam, how do you know William Hunter?" Neelam asked her.

William Hunter was Gia and Alina's dad. He was a well known manager in the industry and entrepreneur. The group was staying at his beach house since Alina was the Sunday headlining act at Rolling Loud. 

"Oh, uh, I met him a few times back when my brother and Alina were in that one Disney Channel show because he was Alina's manager at the time." Miriam said a bit confused on where the question was coming from.

"So you're not close to him?" She tilted an eyebrow at her.

"I suppose we are because our families interact with each other? But I'm mostly friends with Gia and Alina since they're closer to my age. The last time I saw him was in May when I was filming in Atlanta because he was meeting with an artist. It was in passing though."

"You don't happen to know if he's signing anyone or looking to sign someone?" 

"No, why would?" 

"Neelam what's with the interrogation?" Jack asked her, sensing that Miriam didn't like being bombarded with questions.

"I was just making conversation." Neelam shrugged.

Chris, Jack's other manager, came in the trailer and told Jack that he should be heading out to the stage to get mic'd up. Miriam stood off to the side and watched his team do their pre-show ritual. She sent out a text to her friends that she'd be there shortly. Jack and her shared a few kisses before he left. They also agreed to meet back at his trailer so they can hang out the rest of the festival until it was time to watch Alina perform.  

Miriam went in the opposite direction as Jack and his team. She was halfway to the barricade when she realized she left her bag in Jack's trailer. She turned on her heel and went back to his trailer. She quietly opened the door and went inside. She heard Jack's manager and the stylist, whose name she always forgot, talk. She was about let her presence be known when she heard

"I can't fucking stand her." She heard Neelam say, making her close her mouth and stay hidden.

"Who?" Jack's stylist asked.

"Jack's flavor of the month, Miriam. She's so high maintenance. She's coming to Chicago with us and she has her parents' jet available to take us because the princess can't sit in first class for a few hours." She said in a mocking tone. 

Miriam made a face. She only offered the jet because Jack had mentioned that Neelam hadn't finalized their flight. But Chris reassured her that it wasn't necessary. 

"He didn't say that." The other woman said. 

"Obviously he didn't, I embellished. He's only kissing her ass because he's getting some and it looks good for social media. I wish he went for a less known girl that would be grateful that she got flown out and got a decent hotel room. I can't wait for him to drop her ass." 

"I don't know, they seem like they're gonna last."

"I hope not. I don't even know how they got together. Some shit happened between them back in March and then in May they started talking again."

"What happened?"

"I have no clue, Jack nor Chris would tell me." Neelam paused for a bit. "She said that she met with Hunter back in May right around the time she started talking to Jack. What if she was sent by Hunter to try to poach Jack?"

Miriam frowned never in a million years would she ever get in the middle of Jack's career. It wasn't her place. When she ran into William it was literally in passing because she was picking up dinner from an Italian bistro and he was waiting for a client. Their talk didn't even last five minutes. 

The other woman laughed lightheartedly,  "Now you're overthinking and looking for excuses to not like her." 

"You're right. She just doesn't seem the type for Jack to go for. Like she has decent sized boobs and an ass, but she's kinda plain and milking that she looks like her mom. Honestly, I'm surprised Jack didn't get at her sister. She's way prettier than her."

"Imagine he went for her sister but she rejected him so Jack went for her as a backup." 

Both women burst into laughter. That was Miriam's cue to stop eavesdropping. She was finally at that place where comparisons between her and Katalina didn't bother her anymore and she had to overhear them laugh about the possibility of being Jack's backup. She knew she wasn't but the fact people assumed really made her feel like shit.

In addition to that, the comment about being 'Jack's flavor of the month' left a bad taste in her mouth. The way Neelam said made it seem that they were juat a fling to to Jack. But it didn't make sense to Miriam because if it was just a fling, he wouldn't be putting so much effort into it and he wouldn't have delayed them hooking up. If he just wanted to hook up he would've been upfront with her and told her what he wanted out of their situationship.

After their first time together, she didn't want to pressure Jack into a relationship nor make things awkward between them so she just let things take its course. She really liked him and knew that they were exclusive. They weren't officially boyfriend and girlfriend, but it was obvious to her they were more than a situationship. 

Knowing Neelam and Jack's stylist would walk over to where she was to get out of the trailer, she grabbed her forest green Jacquemus fanny pack that matched with the 550s Jack for her. She retreated her steps and ran into Urban. She put her finger in front of her mouth, telling him to be quiet. He closed the door and nodded at her.

"How much did you hear?" She asked him.

"What?" He asked, pulling an Airpod out of his ear.

"Nevermind, you never saw me." She said, not letting him get a word in.

Urban gave her a weird look and went inside the trailer leaving Miriam. Embarrassed, she quickly walked away and went towards Alina's trailer. She couldn't stomach seeing Jack at the moment. She had to process her emotions before talking to him. 

"Hey," Alina said, peeling off her under eye masks. Realizing that Miriam was in her trailer and not in the crowd. "Isn't Jack supposed to go on right now?" 

"Yeah."

"Why aren't you out there?"

"I'm not feeling it." Miriam said, toeing off her shoes and curling up on the couch. 

"What's wrong?" She asked her in a soft voice. 

"I'm tired." She mumbled.

"Do you wanna talk about it? I can ask my glam team to step out for a bit so we can talk about it." Alina said. 

"It's fine. I'm fine. I just overheard something and it didn't sit right with me is all." She reassured her friend. "Is it okay if I nap for a bit?"

"Go for it. I'm gonna text Gia that you're with me because the girls are probably worried that you haven't shown up." Alina waved her off and pulled out her phone to text the girls.

Miriam nodded and grabbed Jack's Nahmias black and pink beach flannel shirt she stole from one of his suitcases earlier in the day. It was big enough for her to curl up and cover herself with it. She closed her eyes and let sleep consume, hoping that her nap will help her sort out her feelings.

*

Jack waved goodbye to the crowd and made his way backstage. He took a few pictures with some people and went straight to his trailer to look for Miriam. He spotted her friends near the front while he performed, Zendaya wasn't that hard to miss, but Miriam wasn't in the crowd with them. When he entered the trailer it was empty and there was no trace of her. 

"Have you seen Miriam?" He asked Urban.

"I saw her when I came to get Neelam and Metta. She looked kinda upset." His best friend shrugged, before lighting up a blunt.

Before Jack could say anything, Neelam turned her head and in a panicked tone asked, "Did she tell you anything?"

"She said somethin' but I didn't catch it 'cause I was listening to music." He told her. He looked over to Jack. "Bro, just text her. She's probably with her friends."

"Yeah, probably." 

Jack took out his phone from his backpack and saw a dm sent a few minutes ago from Claudia saying that Miriam felt sick and was napping in Alina's trailer. He replied with a quick thank you and that he was heading over to them. 

"I'm going over to Alina's trailer to check on Miriam." He announced. 

"Can I go?" Druski asked. "I think I can get Zendaya to dump Spidey."

"Uh," Jack looked down at his phone and read another message from Claudia stating that Miriam and Mede went back to the house. "What the fuck?"

He went to the bathroom to have more privacy. He pressed the calling option on the direct messages tab on Instagram. He didn't have any of her friends' numbers. 

"Oh wow, I didn't know you could make calls on here. Hi!" Claudia answered. 

"Hey," he greeted her. He waited a few seconds before asking, "What's this about Miriam going back to the house?"

"I'm not sure honestly. She woke up and said that her stomach hurt. Beto left with her. But Mede is going over to check on her since she's technically a nurse and can, you know, nurse back to health. But when Alina texted us that Miri was staying behind she said that Miri overheard someone talking shit."

Jack frowned. "Did she say who or what they said?" 

"No, but I'm guessing what they said was pretty fucked up if she got so upset that she got a stomach ache."

"Alright, thanks Claudia." He said. 

"You're welcome…I'm gonna hang up so you can call her or whatever. Bye."

"Bye."

He hung up and walked out of the bathroom. 

"What happened?" Urban asked.

"She wasn't feeling well and went back to her friend's house. I'm thinking of heading over to check in on her.” He said in a hush tone. “I’ll meet you back in the hotel later.”

“Text me if your plans change.” his best friend said.

Jack nodded and grabbed his things. He walked his trailer with his bodyguard close behind. Inside his designated SUV he tried calling Miriam, and every time she hung up on him. Twenty minutes later they arrive at the house. He thanked the driver and made arrangements with his bodyguard to get him in two hours. He walked up to the house and knocked. 

Mede opened the door. “Oh it’s you.” she said in a flattone. “She’s in the pool being melodramatic.”

She led him through the house, making a stop at the kitchen to get Miriam’s te de hierba buena for her alleged stomachache. “Miri, your man is here, so I’m gonna go and see if I can catch Megan thee Stallion. My baby daddy wants me to facetime him so he can see her.” She turned to Jack and handed her the mug. “Make sure she drinks her tea and get though her head, she’s being stupid.”

Jack awkwardly stood by the pool with the mug watching Miriam struggle to get off the flamingo floatie. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked him, wrapping a towel around her body.

“Are you fucking serious? You left and didn’t tell me.” Jack scoffed.

“I’m not your responsibility.” she said in an annoyed tone. 

“Don’t do this,” he said, irritated. 

“Do what?”

“Close off and get pissed at me for something I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he snapped. “We were fine right before I went on stage and when I got done with my set I learned that you left–”

“I can’t be your hook up Jack.” she said, cutting him off. 

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I can’t travel around with you and your team just so you can get some. I thought we were more than that and I get if you just want to hook up. But if I’m being honest I can’t just hook up with you. I understand if you want to end things. It was fun while it lasted.” 

“Where did all of this come from?” he asked her. He took a seat on one of the lounge chairs and pulled her down to sit next to him.

“It doesn’t matter.” she shrugged. 

“It does because I've made my intentions with you clear from the start. I never just wanted to hook up with you, Miriam. I thought we were on the same page and were going to pursue a relationship.” 

“Well this is the first I’m hearing about it.” she said, crossing her arms. “And here I thought I was just your hookup of the month.”  

Jack furrowed his eyebrows. "Who said that?"

"Some groupies that were with Tyler Hero.” she shrugged. If she told him that it was Neelam he would get mad her and that’s the last thing she wanted because Neelam could say that she’s lying and just wanting to get in the way of his career or something stupid. 

“Well, they’re wrong, you know.” 

“Are they?”

“Yeah, I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“Really?” Miriam giggled. Jack nodded. “Good because I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“I can arrange that,” he said, pulling her to his lap to kiss her. 

Miriam sat back with a mischievous grin. “You know, I’ve never been fucked by the pool.”

“Well I’m not risking getting sunburnt.”

Taglist: @cherryxcreme​ @youngharleezyxo​ @deannaard​ @meyocoko​​ @babyharleezy​

#jack harlow smut #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow series #jack harlow fan fic #jack harlow oneshot #jack and miriam

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

9, 33, and 72 for Wyn! :D

hehehe thank you!! <3

9. What deity, if any, does your character worship? What’s their opinion on other people’s worship?

Wyn doesn't really worship anything, at least not in the traditional way. Her relationship with her god (if they ARE a god) is built more on a sense of solidarity than it is on devotion. She finds their domain, and their path to it, something that makes sense to her. She wishes to join them on that path. That's all. It's very similar to how Val, my paladin, feels wrt her god, except that she considers HIM to be actively more powerful, and more like an employer that she happens to get on well with. Wyn considers that she and her "god" are more on the level of equals, at least when it comes to their work. Which is why she tends to side-eye people who fall into the more traditional categories of worship. She thinks giving anything blanket devotion is a bad call. (Which is absolutely not at all related to her own personal traumas, no siree!!) She typically doesn't speak her distaste for it aloud, because that's not really her call to make, but she will sort of...make a distance between herself and the more fanatical.

33. What person does your character admire most?

WOOF, unexpectedly loaded question! If you had asked her as little as three years ago, the answer would have been easy: her brother. Atticus was everything that their parents wanted him to be - clever, ambitious, science-and-business minded - but he was also excruciatingly kind, and compassionate, and Wyn's absolute best friend growing up. They got along like a house on fire, and spent their entire childhood getting into mischief and then protecting each other from the fallout. They never blamed each other for the strictness and favoritism of their parents simply because they had a deep and unending fondness for each other. And then he left her, twice, in the absolute worst ways possible. He threw himself so hard into his work - tried so hard to outpace the specter of death that he always saw following him - and it ended up killing him. And then, when Wyn's desperation and a frantic deal with something she genuinely didn't understand revived him, and took years off of her life in the process, he barely acknowledged it. He'd been so fundamentally changed by his experience in the place between life and death that he was hardly her brother anymore. And then he found his own exit, barely a year later. Mostly, she tells herself, she doesn't hold it against him. But she doesn't think she has it in her to admire anyone, anymore.

72. Who in the party would your character trust the most to keep an important secret?

RIGHT NOW, UH. NONE OF THEM? Admittedly, we're on like session 3? 4? So we haven't gotten much of a chance to really gel as a party. But given that Wyn's options are: - the divination wizard who cons people with fake (?) fortune telling, who has spent the last two days trying to swindle everyone's coin from them and running away from half of our fights - the very tight-lipped artificer who mostly has let the rest of the party do the dangerous exploring while chilling in the back -the thief rogue whose only goal seems to be 'steal everything worth carrying in this spooky house before we die' and - the farm-boy-turned-adventurer who accidentally signed up with a bandit crew that robbed Wyn of all of her worldly possessions before the campaign started WE'RE LOOKING AT SOME PRETTY RAW OPTIONS. Admittedly, farm boy adventurer is a himbo extraordinaire who seems to have his heart in the right place and helped Wyn escape from the bandits after realizing what was up, so...probably him...but only by default LMAO.

#frenchy replies #oc crap #the wyn tag #i need a curse of strahd tag #also admittedly i'm sure the other party members aren't much keen on wyn either so it's a mutual wariness i think!

[greenorangevioletgrass]

haven: winter [b.w.]

< previous chapter | series masterlist | ko-fi

pairing: college!bruce wayne x OC

summary: On his final year at Yale, Bruce Wayne, aged 21, stumbled into a theater class and fell for the girl who played Hamlet. In his coming of age, Bruce is torn between his past and his present, and whichever path he chose would determine his future.

word count: 12.9k

warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, developing relationship, yearning, mutual pining, angst, brief mention of jealousy, Shakespearean feels, allusions of death & suicidal tendencies, fluff, hurt/comfort, smut [oral (m&f), penetrative sex, bruce's first time! yay!, cockwarming, just general horndoggery lol], bruce is an awkward lil bean, an awk lil bean with a big dick apparently 👀

notes: it's back! im not sure if you guys even still remember this, but i'm slowly trying to finish this. big thanks to @awkward-darkness @shipping-not-sailing @cumholland @blue-aconite @spnbarnes for making this all possible! see y'all in spring <3

*follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest works <3 happy reading and please reblog and share if you liked it!*

ACT ONE

Bruce had heard the phrase ‘tech week is hell week’ being thrown around among the cast and crew many days before they officially moved into the theater, and he never got any clear explanation, save for sympathetic pats on the back and ominous ‘you’ll see’s. And after his little tryst with Eden in the dressing room, he found it difficult to imagine something more hellish than having to wait to touch her again until closing night.

Boy, was he sorely mistaken.

Anything that could go wrong did go wrong. A wheel from one of the set pieces broke and it took half an hour to fix it and roll onto the stage to get the lighting set up—and it was only the second scene of the show. An ensemble can’t fit into one of his costumes, zippers getting stuck and snagging the changing time, a prop went misplaced…

The cue-to-cue ran so slovenly despite all the fires to put out, and they were stuck to their own posts; Bruce backstage—just off of the wing, and Eden onstage, shuffling between her heels as she moved from one mark to another. Patient, despite the banality, as they made changes to the blocking and tried to get the lighting right. She absently turned to the side and caught a glance of Bruce in a rare moment of idleness, and winked at him discreetly, sending him smiling back. It gave him enough to hold on until they wrapped up, at 1.28AM that night.

The second and third day was a blur. There was no way of savoring the moment of fixing her corset in the wing, because people were milling around. All they had was a secret, split-second graze of their fingers before she strode into the spotlight.

The stumble-through was just that—stumbling through as they tried to get everything right. There weren’t as many fuckups, and he was starting to get the hang of it. The bouts of high-pressure moments in the quick costume changes, and the longer minutes of nothingness. Keeping an eye out for his own cue to get the next costume ready as he watched from the wings. Observing how everyone tried their utmost not to lose their mind in this tiresome tedium. It kept his mind off of Eden.

Eden, currently lying on her side on the floor, more beautiful than a John Collier painting. Deceivingly feminine in high-waisted pants and white shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The black corset remained a staple around her torso, making Bruce feel some type of way.

Okay. Maybe it didn’t keep his mind off of her entirely.

“Alas, poor Yorick!” She studied the skull in her hand pensively, twirling it and staring right at its hollow eye sockets. And then she laughed wryly, turning to her scene partner, “I knew him, Horatio! He’s a fellow of infinite jest—of most excellent fancy.”

The exhaustion was apparent in her thoughtful musing. For a moment, he thought it was a new discovery in her character. But then he spotted her dozing off on Kola’s—who played Horatio—shoulder during the final debrief, and he was equal parts amused that she was genuinely tired, and amazed that she could still pull it off and make the performance make sense.

So when Eden schlumped out of the theater with just a general wave to the company, Bruce didn’t pay any mind. He wasn’t all that relieved to receive a text from her that said ‘Opening night! You excited?’ right out of his Law Adjudication exam the next day (he sent her the Italian hand emoji and got back a ‘noice’ in return.) He certainly didn’t sign into the theater early, knowing she’d be there.

The pit stop at the local florist, however, had no other excuse.

He came in through the audience’s entrance and there she was, sitting by the aisle that split the seats down the middle. Her smile lit up the dark hall, and he was beckoned in.

“Hey, uh…” he shifted on his heels, gingerly handing his modest gift, “Happy opening night.”

“Oh…” Her mouth went agape upon receiving a single-stem sunflower bouquet, tastefully framed with pretty leaves and baby’s breath. She inhaled the floral scent deeply. “I love sunflowers. Thank you!”

He knew that. Her phone lockscreen is a sunflower field and she had a habit of doodling sunflowers with yellow highlighters on her script, but he’s glad to be right anyway.

She scooted one seat over so he could sit next to her. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

“I didn’t. But it makes sense, now that I think about it.”

“Well, this is my church.” Eden motioned around them. “Before opening night, I like to come in early and sit in the audience and just… take it all in. The quiet, the stillness. It’s like the calm before the storm, you know?”

They stared at the empty stage before them. The set was partially set up, but there wasn’t much else. Just dust dancing under the house lights. And for a moment, they just sat there, arms propped on the seats in front of them like they were in church.

“How are you feeling?”

She took a deep breath. “Well, that’s a loaded question.”

Her palm facing upwards on the backrest, he put his hand over it. Finger lightly tracing the lines that twisted and branched on her skin. Thumb resting over the pulse point on her wrist. Hoping this brought her comfort, because it comforted him to be in the warmth of her closeness. It didn’t feel as new anymore, although it perplexed him all the same; the very act still made his heart race.

She kissed him on the shoulder and propped her chin there. “You know… we might not need to wait til closing night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying…” her lips ventured closer to his neck, less innocently this time. Grazing his freshly shaven jaw before whispering, “We have time.”

Bruce tried to hide his bounding heart with a rare teasing smile for her. Just for her. “Right here, in your church?” he was met with a cheeky look on her face, and his smile widened. “The sacrilege!”

The kiss went so easy this time. Bruce didn’t give himself time to overthink—he simply cupped her chin and leaned in. Savored the sugary taste on her tongue. The little giggle that bubbled up from within her. The shameless wanting that emanated from her—from him, as his cock stirred under his jeans. God, they wanted each other so badly.

He groaned into her mouth. “How do you do this?” anxiously glancing at the closed door, then at the empty stage, “Anyone could walk in here. It’s giving me—” she cut him off with another searing kiss and it took him everything to finish his sentence, “...anxiety.”

“Maybe you’re just a pussy.” she bit his lower lip playfully. “Or maybe, I like putting on a show.”

Jesus.

Bruce must’ve stopped dead in his tracks, because she pulled away with a shrug. “Or not,” she added. She fixed her bouquet wrapping as she said nonchalantly, “Shame, though. I wouldn’t mind sucking your dick right now.”

“What?” his head whipped towards her faster than he could blink.

“It’s cool. We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to—”

“But I do.”

This time, she stopped in her tracks, surprised by how quickly he’d answered. “Really?”

He swallowed hard. It was a bad, bad idea. He could make a whole list of reasons why; the sheer exposedness of the space, the lack of professionalism, the trouble they’d get into…

But above all, this impossible girl had just offered to go down on him for the first time, right here right now, so… he nodded.

“Okay. Just sit back and relax.”

There was something about the way she kissed him. So simple, so… soft that his worries melted away for a second. It all felt so distant; in that moment, there were just the two of them. Sitting in the empty theater, two hours before anyone’s supposed to be here.

Alone together.

“Fuck,” she cursed as she released his cock out of his pants. All thick and hard and purplish, gleaming at the head. Pulsing as her fist closed in around his shaft. And as she put her mouth on him…

“Eden.”

He didn’t even know whether he was calling her or this. Not anymore. Not when her tongue was laving on the tip of his cock. Gathering, devouring his arousal. Spreading down his length as she took him by every inch.

Heaven.

Heaven was the warmth of her mouth that enveloped him. The obscene wet sounds she made as her cheeks hollowed out around him. The noises threatening to escape from his kiss-worn lips as she took him in so deep. So good.

“Fuck, Eden…” his hand found the back of her head—not quite pushing her down, not quite pulling her back either. Just carding through her hair, finding some solace because he felt his nerve endings going haywire. He couldn’t think. Oh God. “I’m gonna come…”

His quiet plea echoed through the empty hall in a hush, and he knew he should’ve stopped. He really should have. But he was bursting at the seams, arching into her mouth. Her fist. And he tangled his own fist in her dark waves, breathing hard and heavy to keep himself at bay.

And failing.

Not that it mattered.

She kept him close and snug and safe as he surrendered and came apart down her throat. Sucking and swallowing until there’s nothing left but shivers running down his spine.

“Well?” she straightened up, delicately wiping the corners of her mouth with her thumb and kissing him on the cheek innocently. Fuck, she’s unbelievable. “Still think we should wait until closing night?”

Maybe it was the post-nut clarity. Maybe he was just being dramatic, but he swore he’d never seen her so beautiful. “What are you suggesting?” He smoothed out the messy strands of her hair.

“Well, tonight’s opening night. We’ll drink and dance and celebrate…”

And they did just that. The company popped a few bottles of cheap champagne and drank out of plastic cups, blasting late 90’s hip-hop backstage. They had made it through hell week, through a successful opening night, a well-received performance by the audience.

But Hamlet was three hours long, and Eden was onstage for most of it. And as much as she was in high spirits, her energy was visibly—understandably depleted. And Bruce could see that. It was one of the few things he could empathize with.

“You’re not coming in?” she frowned, when he just hovered by when she walked up the steps to her building.

He shook his head apologetically, shoving his freezing hands deeper into his coat.

“But—”

“You need to rest, Hamlet.”

“I’ll get plenty of rest! It’s barely midnight, it’s—” her argument was cut off with her own yawn, her breath fogging up the cold night air.

He threw her a knowing look.

“Fine,” she relented, hiding her face behind the sunflower bouquet—still smelling it fondly, trodding back to give him a brief hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Walking away, melodramatic as it may have sounded, was the most difficult thing he’d had to do all week. Maybe even more so than the first time, in that dressing room. Bruce had to remind himself that tomorrow is Saturday and Sunday is closing night. And come Sunday, they would pick up where they left off without any interruption, any passersby. But until then…

Until then, he would have to share. With the crew getting her ready and briefing her on technicalities in this two-show day (or as everyone called it, two-doe shay). The downtime she used in between shows to take a power nap. The cast that she hung out and warmed up with. The audience that took selfies and gave her flowers after the show. As an only child, this was a massive learning curve for Bruce, but he was doing alright.

He didn’t mind.

He really didn’t mind when a beautiful blonde girl in knee-high boots came up to Eden with a big bouquet of roses out at the foyer. The stranger seemed well-acquainted judging from the warm, lingering embrace they were in, and it’s fine. It was fine that the blonde’s hand stayed on Eden’s waist as they talked. It was no big deal at all when Eden’s hand landed on her arm when she laughed at something the girl had said. So intimate, so… familiar.

She could do whatever she wanted. If he really minded, he was free to leave.

“Hey Bruce, wait up!” she hollered, catching up with him on his way out with barely a quick kiss goodbye on the girl’s cheek. “You wanna walk home together?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, but held the door for her anyway. “Thought you were… occupied.”

“Who, Gwen? Nah, it’s no big deal. She’ll be fine.” Eden stuffed the bouquet into the canvas bag in her hand, along with the other flowers and cards she received that day.

“Hn.” He didn’t know what else to respond, continuing their night walk in silence. But it seemed that not responding only raised more question, because she eyed him curiously and inquired,

“Are you jealous?”

“No.” and he really wasn’t. Eden was just a generally tactile person—she greeted her friends with hugs, leaned on people’s shoulders like it’s no big deal. Why should this be any different?

“Aw, Brucie!” She cooed, linking her arm around his as if it’d ease his mind—although to be frank… it did. But he also hated the nickname with that tone. “She’s an ex for a reason, you know.”

He knew there was something about her, about the encounter. “So she was your ex.”

“So you were jealous,” she echoed his intonation playfully.

He scowled, not liking how he accidentally revealed his own cards. But she smiled, and he wasn’t sure how he could feel better and worse at the same time.

“Oh, that ship has sailed and sunk a long time ago. We’re better off friends anyway,” she mused. “Don’t worry. I’m still yours tomorrow night.”

His heart skipped, although Bruce tried not to shift out of place. What the fuck does that mean? He knew very well that she was talking about their little closing night plans, but those three words echoed in his mind. Pulling all kinds of abstract meanings that he couldn’t quite put into words. I’m still yours. And only for tomorrow night? He felt his gut twist, whether in worry or anticipation—or both—, he had no idea.

***

ACT TWO

In his college life, Bruce had two types of morning: the one where he had to fight five different alarms of varying intensities to wake up, or where he got up before any of the alarms rang (whether he’d had any sleep beforehand was an entirely different matter).

That Sunday morning, he felt like a schoolboy before a field trip as he counted the minutes until his phone would make a peep—way too many— and decided to work off the jittery buzz in his body on a morning run—away from his residential college courtyard and towards Grove Street Cemetery across the street. Avoiding farmer market crowds and whatever sports game was happening in the gym. Steering clear from Eden’s building in case he bumped into her and risked looking like a stalker. No, thank you.

(He did touch himself in the shower thinking about what they did in the dressing room, in the empty theater. Imagining her in her dress. Unlacing her corset. Touching her everywhere.)

“Bruce!” Eden flagged him in the backstage corridor, her bag slung on her shoulder and coffee tumbler in one hand. “I got something for you.”

They stepped aside to a little nook full of stored props, away from the crew setting up for the matinee like they’re sneaking around with a secret—then again, they sort of were.

“Happy closing night,” she beamed, bringing her other hand out from behind her back. Brandishing a flower bouquet—three stalks of red carnations wrapped in coffee-colored cellophane paper.

“But I… I’m not—”

“Flowers are for anyone working on the show. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He smiled sheepishly, unable to hide the rose blush creeping up his neck and ears. She’s gonna be the death of him. “Thank you.” He plucked the card out from the back of the bouquet. It said ‘Hakuna matata!’ scribbled in her cursive handwriting.

“Get it? ‘Cause Lion King and Hamlet…”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “This is lovely. I mean it… thank you.”

Bruce looked up at her, and it’s truly amazing how she looked as happy as he felt (because let’s face it, knowing his poker-faced tendencies, he probably didn’t look it). But there’s that twinkle in her dark eyes, and the smile that lit up her soft face, and all he wanted to do was to lean in and kiss her.

And he did.

Eden gasped, jaw dropped as she pulled away, looking around to check if anyone had seen them. The ghost of a smile still persisted on the corner of her lips, but now there’s a tinge of color on her cheeks, too. “And, uh…” she cleared her throat, backing away into the hallway— accidentally bumping into Louie from Sound, “Try to have fun. Enjoy the show when you can.”

He took her word for it. Part of him wished he was in the audience, watching everything unfold in full view. But he also liked that he could see the inner workings at the same time. He liked hearing the stage managers’ cues, and the actors gossiping about who was in the audience, who’s falling asleep, who’s very cute and attending without a date. He liked watching the crew take out whole rooms from the stage and put together a new one in a matter of seconds. He liked watching the shift from night to day from the lighting above.

But most of all, he liked watching Eden. She walked past him just as the show started, her hand sliding across the small of his back and he’d squeeze her hand in that brief second. And then she stood there in the wing, watching the opening scene. He couldn’t see her face—just her silhouette. So still, almost statuesque as the ghost of the King, her father, appeared before her peers. And as the ensemble, the music, the wedding festivities rushed in…

She crumpled.

Closed in on herself and he could see the breaths struggling against her ribs—almost like sobs.

And then… she straightened up again, making herself presentable for the social event and walked into the scene.

“How is it that the clouds still hang on you?” King Claudius, her uncle-turned-stepfather, put a friendly arm around her shoulder.

But she tensed at the touch, swiftly squirming away towards a waiter, taking some fake champagne from the tray. “Not so, my lord; I am too much in the sun.” She flashed a saccharine smile, raising her glass.

It was fascinating to see her Hamlet; so regal, so imposing in the presence of others. This was the Hamlet who grew up on etiquette lessons, on stuffy outfits and stuffier social functions and was told to grin and bear it. She carried herself like she belonged there, in her silk dress and diamonds on her neck and wrists. But there was something about the way she listened to people; her mother prattling on and on about ‘all that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity’ that just screamed… exhaustion. Seething. Like she was close to breaking her champagne flute and shoving the shard into someone’s neck.

It was kind of hot.

But his most favorite thing? Her version of Hamlet was funny.

And no, it wasn’t just moments of comedic relief deliberately placed after scenes of high tension. Her dry humor was consistent—from her first scene to the last, where she had just witnessed her mother’s death, followed by her uncle and her lover’s brother. Knowing she would be next in just mere minutes.

“I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu,” she blurted out matter-of-factly, laughing in disbelief as she threw a mock-salute. It felt like one of Hamlet’s usual sardonic quips—except it wasn’t.

The audience laughed with her for a bit. But the air of unease was palpable, and for the first time, Eden all but broke the fourth wall, sharing her final moment of vulnerability with the audience as the poison coursed through her veins. “Had I but time…” she mused. She didn’t, as Death was as punctual as it was unexpected. “Oh, I could tell you—” she gushed. It was the first time she didn’t want to die. Just for a split second. Just enough to speak her truth. Enough to make dying actually hurt. “But let it be.”

In a fit of shock and grief and helplessness, Horatio—her best friend and right-hand man— tried to drink the remains of the poison in the cup, but she wrestled it out of his grasp. Knocking it away, and collapsing into his arms afterwards.

“If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart… absent thee from festivities awhile, would you?” she patted his cheek limply, comforting him even though she was the one dying. Softening as he choked out a sob at the sight of her.

Bruce would never consider himself an emotional person, but even his eyes welled up as he watched from the side.

“O, I die, Horatio,” she sighed—not in regret, but in relief. All too glad to surrender to her fate. Her business was done. She had entrusted the future of Denmark in the hands of her very best friend. “The rest…” she rasped out, pushing through her words for the very last time,

“...is silence.”

Horatio’s wailing was gut-wrenching as it echoed through the hall, but Bruce couldn’t help but focus on how peaceful she looked. How breathtaking. How lucky she was for meeting her end so swiftly. And perhaps, on a much lighter note, how amusing it would be if Eden genuinely fell asleep playing dead (she did on last night’s performance.)

He envied her either way, and adored her in every way possible.

The show ended, and the cast took their final curtain call to the raucous standing ovation, amidst the cheering and the applause. But as soon as the curtains came down, Eden all but raced to the wing where Bruce was standing.

And as she came closer, he could see her lips wobbling.

“Hey, are you ok—” his words were cut off with her arms thrown around him, wrapping him into a crushing hug. Her face buried in his chest— and he could feel her tears seeping through his black hoodie.

She lifted her head up, “Sorry about that. This, uh, this happens. Closing nights. Always emotional,” she sputtered around, sniffling a bit. It’s endlessly endearing whenever Eden, ever so eloquent and witty, stumbled on her words because she’s so overcome with emotions.

“That’s okay,” he soothed her with a fond smile, smoothing the hair tumbling down her back as she tucked her face back in his chest.

She was soon tugged away and drawn into a hug after hug by the other cast and crew, but he didn’t mind it. He was happy with the handshakes and high fives and pats on the back and half-hugs (or a full hug from his esteemed department head Laura, who told him, “you’re a solid dude, B.”) His heart already swelled from the fact that in a crowd of openly emotional people, she came to him first.

And when all was said and done, her hand sought solace from the cold in his hand, tucked in his coat pocket, all the way to his dorm.

His dorm. With his worn Gibson J-45 perched on a guitar stand in one corner of the room, the mess of wires and parts and analog cameras on his desk. The small bookcase with books nearly spilling out. The standard-issued twin bed by the window (that he made earlier that morning, thank God.) 

“The room where it happens, huh?” Eden cheekily remarked, glancing around the clutters and the mess that probably told her more about him that he did in the past few months.

“Would you like a…” Bruce gingerly asked, though the words faltered on him as she closed the distance between them with a single step.

She didn’t lean in, didn’t pull him in—save for the hands slipping under his coat and around his waist. There was no more sneaking around. No more stealing time. It’s finally just the two of them.

Alone together.

“You never told me you played guitar.” The fabric of his clothes comforted her hands, but she still chased the warmth underneath. Despite the sudden touch of bare skin, it felt… nice.

“Never came up.” He paused, and then winced, “You’re not gonna ask me to play, are you?”

“Well, not now…” she rolled her eyes playfully, “I think I have something more important in mind.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“Like this.” she tugged the lapels of his coat to bring him down to her face, making him smile into her kiss.

He never, ever smiled like this. Like some regular person with an uneventful personal history and a normal life. He almost felt like he shouldn’t. But within the confines of these four walls, in the arms of this impossible girl who dragged him around from the woods to the stage (and whom he so happily followed to the ends of the earth)... he allowed himself to.

They’ve stolen kisses countless times, but they’d never kissed like this before. So free, so unfettered, so… devoid of a single care as they unhurriedly shed each layer of their clothing. Scarf. Coat. Sweater. They both secretly wondered if they should make haste —they were so desperate to feel each other up all week— but at that moment, they didn’t mind taking it slow.

After all, they had all the time in the world.

He didn’t outwardly ask, but he was thankful that she took the lead. Backing him up until his legs find the bed frame. Sitting him down and straddling his lap. Tugging her dress over her head as she kissed him so fiercely, so that he could focus on her. Committing every inch of her to memory with his touch. Her lips, her thighs, the curves of her waist, the…

“Is that a—” his hand finished the rest of his question, tracing the hair-thin lines on her skin. Pinkish, purplish orchids blooming from her ribcage, with leaves sprouting and buds blooming on the underside of her breast. “You never told me you had a tattoo.”

“Never came up.” she shrugged, echoing his words. “Do you like it?”

He kissed her there, from the petals to the florets. Tracing the lines with his tongue this time, up the soft swell of her flesh. Sucking her pebbled nipple. Feeling her gasp deep in her core.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she simpered blissfully, one hand buried in his mess of dark hair. Not quite grabbing, not quite pulling, just… playing with it, twirling it around her fingers. Urging him to keep going, keep taking, more more more, because she had so much more to give, if the dripping mess in her panties were any indication.

“Bruce…” she hummed, “Where’s your condom?”

“In the— in the, uh, drawer,” he struggled against the haze in his mind. Motioning at the nightstand next to bed, but refusing to unlatch his mouth from her tits, his hands from her supple thighs, until she had to pry him off of her.

And even then, she had to make up for it in a blinding, heartstopping kiss, before she pushed herself off of him.

If he were smart —and Bruce had always prided himself on his intelligence— he would use this time to undress. But he watched her hips sway, her ass jutted out as she bent over in his full view… and he was hypnotized. The foil packet rustled in her hand, and the radiator creaked in the background, but nothing could tear his attention away from the way Eden shimmied out of her panties. Even if the world was ending outside the window.

He seized her in a flurry of kisses and groping hands, and even as he clumsily kicked off his shoes and got the fuck out of his pants. And as they stumbled back into bed, her hair tumbled down her shoulder just right, and her profile illuminated by the moon.

She looked absolutely beautiful.

“God, you’re beautiful,” she breathed out.

His heart stopped, wondering if he’d accidentally said it out loud. But then, all thoughts went out the door as her hand stroked his hard cock (as if it weren’t already aching for her), lewdly studying the pinkish purplish head as she circled it with her thumb. It took him everything to tear her hand away to make way for the condom along his length; he had to remind himself that he’d be inside her soon.

She ran him up and down her slit, spreading her wetness all over him, lining him up just right. Her opening hovered over his fat, blunt tip, and she could feel herself seizing up as she sank down on him—or at least, tried to.

“Fuck, you’re big,” Eden muttered brokenly, taking deep breaths as she prepared to try again.

There was no hiding his deep blush now. “Thank you…? I, uh, really wouldn’t know.”

She frowned, somewhat incredulous. “What do you mean, you wouldn’t—? You mean nobody’s ever told you…”

“Well, I’ve never been with…” he trailed off, desperately hoping she’d get his point without having to say it. It’d save some of his dignity, at least.

But her face lit up, her jaw dropped, and she all but cried out, “No way. Bruce! Am I popping your cherry right now?”

“Ugh, don’t say it like that,” he grumbled, which only made her giggle.

“Okay, fine. Deflowering.”

“Oh my God, this is my worst nightmare…” His forehead fell onto the crook of her neck, and he hid his beet-red face there in embarrassment.

But she lifted her chin so tenderly, stroking his improbable jawline. Dammit, she’s gonna be the death of him. “You don’t mean that, do you?”

How could he? Eden was naked in his bed, perched on his lap, taking his cock inside her. This was his whole dream. “Not really, no,” he lamely admitted. 

“Good. Cause I want all of you inside me.” She smirked, kissing him, although she fell out of it as she tried to sink down on him again. Struggling with the sheer size of him. Still too fucking big. “Fuck…”

“I thought I was the one getting deflowered.”

She shot him a sharp glare.

He kissed her back passionately, rubbing slow circles on her clit to ease her up. Trying to focus solely on her—the way her fingernails dug into his back, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip.

Her pussy taking in the head of his cock in a tight clench.

As their moans united in the silence of this humble room, so did their bodies. It was overwhelming. His mind felt hazy, yet at the same time, never been clearer, and he hoped, dear God, he would remember every inch of her. By feeling, by sight, by touch.

By the breathtaking whine that escaped her lips with every inch she took him deeper. Drawing out again.

Painfully slow, but maybe just as well, because any faster and Bruce might just combust from the sheer pleasure of it all. And as tempting as it was to surrender, he really, really wanted to make this good for her, too.

She withdrew nearly all the way off of him and then plunged herself all the way to the base, eliciting a restrained cry from both of them. He smoothed his callused hand up and down her thighs, leaving hot wet kisses on her bare neck.

“You okay?” he whispered, holding her close to him, around him.

“Mm-hm,” she replied, her voice tight. “Are you?”

He nodded. “Just… stay here for a while.”

“Okay.”

It was strange how… innocent they both sounded, despite the obscene nature of their activity. Bruce had resigned his fate (in the biblical sense) in her hands a long time ago, but what he didn’t realize was that, stripped down to her most vulnerable form, she laid her own fate in his hands, too.

And for a while, time stopped and there’s just the dull, throbbing ache between his legs, comforted and aggravated at the same time by the snug, silky pulsing of her walls around him. And it almost didn’t matter, because Eden kissed and held him like she never wanted anything else. And neither did he.

Almost.

Somewhere between desperate hands and even more desperate mouths, Bruce’s hips started grinding against hers, shallowly thrusting at first, setting the delicious ache inside her alight. It was nothing like he’d ever felt—nothing his hand or even a panic-bought fleshlight could compare. And the more she responded to his motions —the roll of her hips, the moon crescents she left on his skin, the quiet little moans she made.

He bucked up into her particularly deep, pushing out a sound that sounded more pained than pleased, and he stilled immediately. “Sorrysorrysorrybaby,” he murmured, breathless, cupping her face in both hands. “Did that hurt?”

“No, I’m—” Eden chuckled lazily, “I’m good.” She kissed him once on the lips. “Feels good.” and another on his jaw. “I promise.” her mouth veered down to his pulse point and she bit him lightly.

His head lulled back with a groan, she’s gonna be the death of him, as he picked up where he left off. He was so drunk on her, and yet… he wanted more. Devouring everything he could get his mouth on; her mouth, her neck, her tits. Kneading her ass like he wanted to claim it.

Like she hadn’t already claimed him with every thrust she met halfway.

She took his hand, kissing his wrist and palm and letting his thumb drag along her lower lip. Trailing the outline of her soft, kiss-worn flesh, before he tentatively, ever so lightly, inched it inside.

And when she closed in on her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked his finger…

“Eden…” her name came out in a rumble from deep within his chest, and he had to close his eyes. But that didn’t work, because the image was seared into his mind and it melded with the fantasy of having his cock in her mouth again.

Bruce eased his thumb out of her mouth and onto her clit, rubbing it firmly —and secretly thanking God she seemed to like it. His hips started to falter, and with Eden controlling the pace now, he was close.

Dangerously close.

And apparently, so was she.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she chanted, shamelessly bouncing on his cock. Unbothered to hold back her noises anymore as she powered through the stretch of his girth.

And as her voice went higher, so did the pleasure coursing through her veins until it coiled deep in her core. Gripping around him like a vice, throbbing, squeezing, and oh God, he wanted to give her that forever, but he couldn’t, he was selfish and he wanted to punish himself for chasing her orgasm with his own, but—

“Oh, fuck!” he lurched forward as he came inside her. Heartbeat rang in his ears, his whole body set ablaze in waves of unadulterated pleasure. Holding her waist in place, riding out his high with one, two, thee thrusts until he rested limply on her chest.

And she rested her chin on top of his head. Holding him flush against her. Alone together.

For the first time in his many restless years, Bruce’s mind was…quiet. There were just breaths slowing to a calm, hands settling on the small of her back. Her fingertips caressing the nape of his neck. He always imagined his peace of mind in solitary, but in that pocket of time of space, he couldn’t imagine anyone else by his side.

Anyone but her.

***

ACT THREE

Bruce saw a lot of Eden that week.

It was the final week of the semester. There were exams to take and essay deadlines to catch, and he spent most of his time hunched over his laptop. Sometimes in the library, sometimes at the Beanjamin, though most of the time he stayed in his dorm. All warm and lively and cozy now, with his new… guest gracing it with her presence on a near daily basis. Hogging his bed, wearing his Nirvana t-shirt she grabbed from his drawer, reading his weathered copy of The Count of Monte Cristo.

As soon as his Victimology paper was marked ‘successfully submitted’, Bruce shut the laptop and swiveled in his desk chair, stretching his arms and neck with a groan. He turned towards his bed—or rather the girl occupying it.

Legs swinging in the air as she laid on her stomach, shirt riding up to reveal the lace of her panties like a dirty fucking dream.

“You done?” she asked absently without looking up from the book.

He flopped half on top of her, smushing his face onto her back, reveling in the smell of her shampoo, her scent on his shirt. “Yeah. Are you?”

Eden hummed, stroking his hair a little. Her attention was still glued to the page.

Bruce peeked over her shoulder. He was going to let her enjoy it —it was his favorite part— but his hand was too tempted to explore the curve of her hips, her thigh, her ass, squeezing the soft swell of flesh playfully. He’d never been a physical person, but he was starting to get the hang of it… and he liked it.

“You’re distracting me,” she whined, light-and-half-hearted at the same time, if the little trail of giggles were anything to go by.

He smiled, brushing her hair to the side. “Am I really?” He murmured, nuzzling her cheek. 

His finger traced between her nether lips over the fabric, and she groaned. A low, playful sound that had become an expression of fondness. And out of fondness, he smacked her ass.

“Bruce!” she gasped, turning on her back. The thick book in her hand fell back against her clothed chest and made a muted thud. She turned to meet his gaze, her eyes wide, surprised and pleasantly scandalized. Maybe a little turned on?

“What?” he looked at her, feigning innocence. And she knew he was pretending, based on the sheer fact that he’s working her panties down her hips. 

She stared at him, searching, and then…

“Nothing.” She picked up the book again. And then, as she opened her page again, she kicked the scrap of panties off of her legs. Spreading her thighs. “Carry on.”

There was a command in her every gesture. A directive. He loved it.

Bruce was, by no means, good at eating pussy. How could he be good at something he’d just started doing? But what he lacked in skill, he made up in enthusiasm. How could he not like how wet she was for him, how she arched up into his touch? People spent their lifetime chasing the very thing that would quench their thirst, but his oasis came to him and was all too happy to show him how to enjoy her.

And God, he enjoyed every bit of her.

“Fuck…” she bit back, her grip tight on the book as his teeth grazed the soft flesh on her inner thigh. There was an affectionate little blue mark just next to it, and he remembered how she moaned and grabbed his hair when he did it two nights ago—and maybe she liked it as much as he did.

His tongue dipped between the cleft of her cunt. There was no time to tease her; he needed to taste her now. Needed to lap up her juices, her clit, and feel her pelvis gyrating into him, one leg hiked up on his back. A sign that he was doing it right.

She sighed, seemingly pleased with the motion he’d settled into—because he was certainly more than happy to be licking her cunt up and down, all sloppy and greedy and good.

“Bruce, baby…” Eden put the book aside, fingers carding through his messy hair. There’s that nickname again. He couldn’t remember when they started using it, but they only ever used it in the most vulnerable and desperate moments. And in that moment, all signs pointed to Eden wanting more.

He slipped a finger inside her, wetting it and curling it against her inner walls. Patient and observant as he looked for that spot that made her melt. It never ceased to amaze him how Eden, ever so bold, could ever be so putty in his presence. In his hand.

“More please, stretch me out for your cock,” she moaned quietly.

His eyes closed shut. “Jesus Christ, Eden…”

“Mm.” She leaned into the vibration of his voice, the low growl she never thought she’d coax out of quiet and elusive Bruce. Relishing in the second finger he added, his mouth not letting up from her swollen clit. 

She was fully, shamelessly fucking his face now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It should make him feel powerful. And while a surge of pride ran through him as he found his bearings in her pleasure, he knew she also had the upper hand.

Even when she came apart on his mouth, his fingers, tugging at his hair desperately. When he eased up and crawled up her body, swallowing her little whimpers and gasps into his kisses. Even when he pushed his cock inside her, fucking her slow until agony had the best of him, and he came in the warmth of her throbbing cunt as he plunged into her so deep.

She had him wrapped around her little finger, and he was more than happy to be there.

“Hey, you wanna take a nap?” He softly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, noticing her eyes growing heavy as they laid there in post-coital bliss.

She looked at him, and then out the window, and back at him. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

“Fuck. I have a class in an hour,” she groaned. “But hey, we got the Hamlet party tonight. The Dolphin Den, 8 PM. Don’t forget.” And with a quick kiss on his lips, she rolled out of bed.

He watched her get dressed, unhurried but haphazard anyway, not bothered to return his t-shirt, and his heart swelled at that. God, he was so gone for her. “Would you, um, like to go together?” His heart suddenly started racing for no reason. Why was he nervous about asking her this?

“I’ve already promised to help them set up. But I’ll see you there?”

“Right. Okay.”

“And don’t even think about skipping.”

She must’ve noticed the slightest deflation in his tone, the way he tensed up at her ‘threat,’ because she sat back down on the edge of the bed as she put her shoes on.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But I do hope to see you there.” She kissed his shoulder and his nose and his lips one last time, and then she was off.

Shit. 

***

The Dolphin Den was a common room in the basement floor of the Grace Hopper Hall, where Eden lived, the last door on the left from the west staircase—a fact Bruce had looked up in the three torturous hours he had between his final class of the semester and the production-slash-Christmas party he was apparently invited to. Going back and forth between going and not going, even as he got dressed, put on his jacket, and stepped out into the cold. Taking the scenic route on purpose.

(He very nearly turned back. Stopped right in front of the building, wondering if he was underdressed or overdressed in his hoodie, if fifteen minutes was acceptably late or it’s still considered very early for this kind of event, and… he just kept walking.

He walked and walked for a block, and another, and stopped in front of a liquor store. And as the neon sign flickered over the storefront, a lightbulb lit up over his head.)

So, when Bruce walked back to the Eden’s residential building—now a good twenty five minutes after the start time— he felt considerably less nervous. Still nervous enough, though, to count every stair step as he made his way down to the basement, carefully reading every room sign even though he had the layout memorized. Pondering whether he should knock or just walk right in. 

Bassline thumped faintly through the corridor, and he took it as a sign to go for the latter. Half of the production team was there already, occupying the couches and corners of the wood-paneled room. Table tops covered in red solo cups and beer cans. Indistinct conversations going over and under the music, a dance pop song. Some of the people nodded at Bruce as he made his way inside. It was… strange to be on familiar terms with this many people.

But not unwelcome.

Still, he was relieved to see that familiar face waving at him from the drinks table. Her pale yellow skirt flared around her waist like a burst of sunshine, although her long legs reminded him of all the nights he had them wrapped around his waist. He weaved through the crowd, bumping and murmuring passing apologies unlike those dramatic slow-motion scenes, all the way across the room as she excused herself from Kola and Angela, too.

He was probably a few steps away from her, before he panicked. How should he address her? Sure, they were very… intimate in private, but what were they in public? Were they friends, were they together? Oh God, they never talked about it—

“Hey, you made it!” She hugged him and briefly kissed him on the cheek. Okay, standard Eden protocols, at least. Dark eyes flickering down to make sure she didn’t leave a lipstick mark on his skin.

(No matter. She left plenty more lasting marks in more discreet places.)

Her lingering hand on his arm left way too soon, but he supposed it was for the best as her two friends joined them, still engrossed in conversation.

“So I told him, back the fuck off, let me do my double pirouette in peace and— ‘sup, Bruce?” Kola nodded up at him, offering a high-five which he didn’t take.

Not out of ill will or anything, just because he’d already raised the paper bag he was holding in his hand.

Bruce made an apologetic smile that looked more like a wince. “Hey, I got, uh—for the, um…” he gingerly handed him his last-minute… offering.

Kola accepted one and gasped when he took the bottle out of its paper bag. “Vodka!” he cried out like a kid at Christmas, offering yet another high-five that Bruce reciprocated this time. And as he brandished another bottle from the bag, he proceeded to announce to the whole room, “Yo! Bruce got us more vodka!”

He was met with overlaps of whoops, cheers, and Bruce’s name and in various levels of inebriation and excitement. It’s impossible for Bruce to fight the heat creeping up his face now.

“It’s no big deal.” he shrugged a little.

“Dude…” Angela beamed, her hand on her chest like she was about to shed happy tears, “I thought you hated us.”

He tilted his head curiously. “Why?”

“I dunno. We just assumed…” Kola shrugged, trailing off, making a face, hands flailing around in the air.

It was understandable, he supposed. He never hung out with anyone except for Eden (for obvious reasons) and the costume department (also for obvious, albeit entirely more professional, reasons.) Come to think of it, he didn’t think he ever exchanged a single word with these two that wasn’t about the production.

But they were warm and welcoming nonetheless, and it put him more at ease.

“Nah, you guys are alright,” Bruce eventually said casually, matter-of-factly.

Angela and Kola immediately exchanged looks. A moment of silence, before they full-on freaked out, clutching onto each other for dear life.

“Oh my God, you like us!” Kola squealed, while Angela fanned her face with her hand. Despite the dramatic reactions, they seemed… genuinely touched?

“Well…” Bruce went to interject. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He had yet to decide whether ‘like’ was an overstatement. But he didn’t dislike them, that’s for sure.

“Guys, stop it. You’ll scare him,” Eden lightly chided her friends. Then, stepping up to lead him away, forever his knight in a stolen Nirvana t-shirt, “You want something to drink?”

“He totally likes us, dude.” The duo gushed to themselves as Bruce and Eden moved away a little, not bothered by his lack of decorum, apparently.

“Are they drunk already?”

“Nah, this is how they normally are when they’re hanging out.”

“Really? Even Angela?” As stage manager, she was efficient. Level-headed. A bit on the stricter side. Bruce didn’t expect her to be so… goofy in real life.

“Mm-hm. So, we got…” Eden rolled up her sleeves, “Rum and Coke, vodka and Coke, whiskey and Coke, and… tequila and Coke?” she raised a cheeky eyebrow. “Marc’s still picking up the rest of the mixers. Oh, and we got club soda and cranberry juice and… beers of many varieties, good sir.”

She was more animated than usual, and it’s very cute. Like she was amped up from the drinks and the room itself. And perhaps, a small part of him wondered if his presence had anything to do with it.

“What are you having?” Bruce propped himself up with both hands on the table.

“Vodka. We’ll save the tequila for later.”

His heart jumped to his throat. He’d never been much for drinking and partying, but he liked the idea of letting loose with her. So he squared up. “Sounds good.”

“Coming right up!” She flipped a new cup and began preparing his drink. Lightly briefing him on what a cast party was, the things he’d missed in the first 25 minutes of the party, and the potential rowdiness of it all as the night went on. “Trust me, the bonfire had jackshit on this.”

Bruce received the drink she handed and took a sip tentatively, and blink as the sharpness hit his senses. “Wow. That’s… wow.”

“I think I should’ve prefaced this by saying I’m not the best at mixing drinks.” She winced apologetically. “The ratio might be a little bit off.”

“A little?” He side-eyed her, but raised his cup slightly to toast her. “Thank you for the drink.”

“Thank you for coming.” She met his cup halfway.

He wanted to kiss her senseless—and from the way she hovered, shifting on his heels and stared at his lips, he’d guessed she wanted to do that, too. But the room around them still felt too… mild, too sober, and he couldn’t handle the prying eyes. Not when he’d grown so used to being alone with her. So he joined her and her friends, listening to their plans for next semester.

Well.

Until Eden got whisked away, leaving the three of them in favor of song and dance as they played a Motown musical number over the sound system. The conversation halted for a moment as they watched and nodded along to the familiar tune.

(Familiar for them, of course, not for Bruce. He was just happy to watch her sing along and reenact a dance routine with two guys who were definitely not the Dreamgirls.)

“So Bruce, how’s life outside the theater’s treating you?” Angela piped up, snapping him out of his reverie. 

“Well,  it’s finals week, so… busy. But you know, quieter.”

She nodded knowingly.

“Yeah, we were, like, belting fucking Sondheim at, like, 9 in the morning.” Kola huffed. “It was rough.”

“Ugh.” Angela rolled her eyes and turned to Bruce. “Actors, am I right?”

Bruce stammered. The only thing he could relate with that was the time he woke up to Eden making those funny humming, trilling noises in the bathroom for warm-up. Was it too early to disclose that they were having sleepovers?

“Bitches, besties!” Laura suddenly joined them, popping up between Angela and Kola, a bit tipsy. Guess who’s dressing A Doll’s House at the Rep next month! So I guess I’ll be seeing you, Madame Stage Manager.”

The two girls squealed and hugged, and Bruce suddenly remembered what Eden said to him on the first day of tech: it was never just about a show. It could be a gig, a collaboration, another project to keep them in this neverending rat race a little longer. 

“That’s awesome! I auditioned for that.” Kola stared down his drink pensively. “They said ‘Hard pass.’”

“Aww, you don’t even like period shit.” Angela wrapped her arm around her friend in comfort.

“I liked our Hamlet,” he said lamely.

“Yeah, but this one isn’t like ‘period’ period, you know? Like, it’s not… stuffy. I mean, not to suck our own dick or anything, but…” Angela trailed off, eyes scanning over them for validation.

And Laura was right there for her. “Nah, we nailed it with this one. I couldn’t fucking stand Hamlet before this, but our version? All the female rage? Fuck yeah.”

“I just feel like we should accept the fact that Shakespeare, in its true form, is boring now. Nobody wants to watch people in big frocks, speaking in big words for like 4 hours. And it’s fine! We don’t have to like that shit anymore. We like badass corsets and queer relationships and dick jokes and sassy comebacks. And that doesn’t cheapen Shakespeare; that keeps him relevant, and frankly, that’s what we should be focusing on, instead of sucking the dick of some dude who’s been dead 400 years.”

The three of them stared wide-eyed at Kola, watching him take a casual swig of his drink after his unexpected hot take, all 5’7 of athletic muscles and nerd rage.

“Holy shit, you’re right.” Bruce blurted out.

“Thank you!” Kola lifted his red cup, knocking it softly with Bruce’s—and he found himself drinking to that, too.

Angela was still quiet, though. Thoughtful. “Yeah, but it’s hardly fair to say all historically-accurate adaptations are shit, right? Like, some people just happen to like period pieces, you know?”

“Fuck off with your contrarian shit, Ang! Bruce—back me up here.”

“Uh…” Bruce paused, scrambling for a response. “I think neither is mutually exclusive?”

“Well, that’s a lukewarm take if I’ve ever heard one,” Laura remarked. “Come on, man. Humor us.”

“Honestly? I… like those period pieces, too. I really do. This reimagined version we did was new to me and it’s… pretty eye-opening.”

It felt like a fever dream. Bruce never would have thought he would be engrossed in a conversation about Shakespeare adaptation at some theater cast party, which led to more drinks, which led to tequila shots with this merry band of misfits… and actually enjoying it.

Eden occasionally joined them for a chat and a drink—he suspected it’s mostly to check on him and make sure he’s not feeling ignored. And while it was sweet of her, he also enjoyed watching her do her thing. Sometimes singing along to whatever song they were playing, sometimes simply vibing and cheering on whoever was taking the lead. Sometimes just…

Standing on the coffee table now with Marc, arm-in-arm, raising their drinks, leading the crowd to the big Latin number. And straight out of a movie, people were spontaneously singing and harmonizing to the ensemble lines in Spanish. These theater kids never ceased to amaze Bruce.

And as the beat dropped, they hopped off the table and danced. Despite the close proximity—all the spins and the turns— Bruce didn’t feel a pang of jealousy like he did with her ex-girlfriend. On the contrary, he was simply enthralled. She was truly at home in her body. In the heat, the beat, the people all around her.

And why wouldn’t she be? She was surrounded by people who had made a home out of this little corner of life, too.

“So, what are you up to next semester, Bruce?” Laura asked him.

“I don’t know, just… trying to graduate in time, I guess.” He shrugged. It sounded a lot less exciting than what they had lined up, and he didn’t realize he was a bit… miffed as he said it out loud?

“You can always join us again. The Costume Department’s always open. Or maybe you wanna try something else?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” Bruce smiled sheepishly. “I appreciate it, though.”

“I’m serious. Hamlet was a trial by fire, and you handled it really well for your first time.”

“Whose first time?” Eden showed up, resting her chin on Bruce’s shoulder, and he nearly passed out from sheer shock and panic that she might have slipped on by talking about his first time. But she wrapped her arm around his middle, and the group was considerably more interested in this new public display of affection.

“Ooh, what is this?” Kola motioned between them. “Bruce, did she finally Shake your Speare?”

“Yeah, did you finally go Ham on her Let?” Angela added.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he murmured into his drink, completely horrified.

His survival instinct should’ve kicked in moments ago and told him to run for his life, but somehow, even as the group made puns out of their expense, turning him beet red, Bruce didn’t feel like running away. Despite everything, they’re laughing with him, not at him. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but he wondered if, perhaps, there was room in these people’s home —Eden’s home— for him, too.

***

ACT FOUR

Gotham City, Bruce’s true home, was quiet. Cold. All too vast in the dining room where he and Alfred had their Christmas dinner, and the halls they wandered through in their own time—dark and desolate in its Gothic nature. But all too cramped and chaotic as he weaved through the streets and back alleys in his beat-up Honda CB, the city too grotesque, too… somber.

Bruce’s phone buzzed in his pocket, twice, just as he worked on the Corvette in the spacious garage basement of the Wayne Tower. He rolled out from under the car, wiping the oil grease off of his hand before he opened the text.

‘Say hello to my new friend!’ Eden’s message said, with a selfie to go with it. She sported a toothy grin, wavy hair blowing in the wind, pointing at a green crab in the sand by the shoreline. A true embodiment of a ray of summer sun on a gloomy winter day.

“Since when d’you text?” Alfred commented.

“Dunno,” Bruce hummed absentmindedly, typing a reply. ‘Ugh, extroverts. Can’t relate.’

She texted back immediately, ‘You’re just jealous you’re not A) at the beach and B) hanging out with me right now,’ with another selfie — this time laying on a beach towel, throwing a peace sign as if her yellow bikini didn’t draw his eyes right into her cleavage and her curves weren’t angled in the exact way he fucked her before he drove her to the airport two weeks ago.

And the worst part of it all? She was right on all counts.

Bruce bit back a smile, forcing himself to look away from the screen because he would definitely pitch a tent if he looked a little too long. It was just his luck that he happened to meet Alfred’s gaze peering from behind the hood, secretly (but also, not so secretly) elated by this new development.

“So I take it you made a friend, huh?”

“Hn.”

“What’s she like?”

“She? That’s presumptuous,” Bruce grumbled, tucking his phone back into his pocket. But Alfred raised his eyebrows at him as if saying he wasn’t born yesterday, and he found himself rolling back and forth in his spot on the wheeled slider. And then… “But she’s alright.”

The older man kept his voice even and his gleeful grin at bay, for which Bruce was somewhat grateful. “And where is she now?”

“Back home in Hawaii.”

“Huh. I hear Hawaii is great this time of year.”

Bruce tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Hawaii’s great any time of the year. That’s why they have a rainbow on their license plate.”

Alfred actually snorted this time —he never recalled this proper British gentleman ever responding to his remark in such a… juvenile way. “And what does Gotham have?”

“I don’t know, rain and—” he motioned around the garage, “Home, I guess.”

“Yeah, what else is new,” Alfred dryly noted. Then, leaning back against the bumper of the car,. “Hawaii, on the other hand… You’ve never been, have you?”

Bruce side-eyed him, an all-too-familiar, non-verbal look that meant, where are you going with this?

“I’m just saying,” Alfred started, “Enjoy the sun, drive a car with a rainbow license plate on it.” He returned the side-eye right back at the younger man. “Hang out with your friend.”

Bruce was ready to brush it off. It was simply something he didn’t use to do —but then again, neither was texting. And as much as he wanted to make another counterargument, his phone buzzed again in his pocket. Alfred returned his attention to the engine in front of him, as if he’d made his point, and it somehow felt worse than being looked straight in the eye.

“It wouldn’t kill you to enjoy yourself every once in a while, you know.”

***

Bruce had a very particular way of texting, which Eden found endearing. He retained that placid —at times seemingly aloof— tone, but his dry humor shined through over a higher word count than his usual spoken conversations and came up at the most random times.

One message came in just as she dried herself off after an early morning surf.

‘Alfred just went on vacation and he doesn’t trust me enough to NOT set the house on fire, so… wanna hang out?’

Eden frowned at the screen. The lack of emoji didn’t usually bother her, but this time, she wasn’t sure if he was fucking with her or not. ‘Wtf are you talking abt?’ she replied.

Her phone dinged twice —first with an incoming picture of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the back porch of a house, pristine blue water gleaming in the background; and then a location pin, merely 15 minutes away from her house. No caption, no context whatsoever. And yet, Eden understood it just enough —she always did with Bruce. 

‘NO WAY!!!’ she texted back immediately, and then added, ‘Send me a selfie so I know you’re not an axe murderer trying to lure me into your trap.’

The three-dotted bubble hovered in their chat window for a few seconds, and then disappeared. Popped up, and then it was gone again. Eden couldn’t help but picture him trying to protest, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed as he typed up and deleted his response. She was certain she was gonna get a sardonic Bruce-esque quip in the reply, but instead, she received something better.

Another picture of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach. But this time, Bruce was there, squinting in the sun, lips pulled up —is that a smile he was attempting?—, his sweater hoodie pulled up to the top of his head. God, he was adorable.

‘Don’t fucking go anywhere.’ Eden’s thumbs were frantic against her phone screen and she stuffed all of her belongings into her bag and hauled her surfboard onto her car.

She loved the unhurried pace of her home island. Time moved slower on Maui and so did she. It was an ordinary Tuesday morning and the cars cruised along the road like they had nowhere to be… and Eden would have enjoyed it on any other day. Any other day, God, but this. When this peculiar, funny, handsome boy happened to show up just minutes away from her house, nearly 5,000 miles from where he lived.

She held back from honking the horn on every car in her way along the main road. Instead, she kept her mind occupied with some questions. Yes, she did wish he was here since she arrived, but did she think he was actually gonna do it? And now that he did, what then? Should she bring him home to her parents? That sounds so serious, she cringed at the idea. Oh God, what does this make us?!

“Your destination is on the right,” the navigation AI on her phone startled her. Eden nearly jumped out of her seat and missed the driveway, tucked between palm trees and shrubberies.

A black Porsche Cayman was already parked outside the villa. The white exterior was simple —modest, almost, but the tall glass windows and the sheer size of the building gave away its true luxury. Eden had to remind herself to slow down, give herself time to collect her own thoughts. But as she climbed up the steps to the entrance, Bruce emerged from the front door, wearing the same gray hoodie he took the selfie in, just with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose bridge this time. He sheepishly waved at her.

Her heart grew three sizes at the sight of him, and yet the first thing that flew out of her mouth was, “You fucking bitch!”

His hand, still held up, was now alert. “Look, I can explain.”

She stopped, just a few steps away from him. “Explain, then.”

“I know it’s…” he took off his sunglasses. “It’s a lot. And… I hope you don’t find it creepy—”

“When did you fly out here?”

“12 hours ago.”

“When did you decide to fly out here?”

He paused. “Remember when you were texting me about the green crab?”

Eden did the math. There’s only a couple of hours gap between his decision and his departure.  “Right, I forgot you were stinkin’ rich.”

“Are you mad?”

He sounded so quiet, so timid, and it had only just dawned on her how new this was for him, too. How nerve-wracking. “Of course I’m not mad,” she immediately brushed it off, closing the distance so she could hold him in her arms again —oh, how good it was to have him in her arms again. “You’re just… gah!”

There was disbelief in her tone, maybe frustration, but it wasn’t the slightest bit venomous. Instead, she pulled him into a kiss. Fervent, as the weight of separation in the last two weeks had been lifted off of her shoulders. Amorous, as the weight of her… feelings set in. The fondness. The longing. The yearning of everything she remembered —his kiss, his touch, his presence— and everything she couldn’t have possibly memorized no matter how much she wanted to. 

The softest scent that lingered on his clothes and his person. The pattern he drew on the small of her back. The ever so surprising strength of him as he hoisted her legs around his waist and carried her into the house.

He set her down on the oversized couch, kneeling between her legs. A silhouette of sharp nose and sharper jawline backlit against the late-morning sun streaming in from the French doors behind him. She wanted to admire him so bad, to get the offending sweater and the pants out of the way. To immerse herself in his lean frames, the taut lines of his collarbones, his torso, the grooves on his hips. Instead, he just… stilled.

“What.”

“I like this.” His finger traced the front of Eden’s rashguard, ghosting at her teasing neckline. Hovering over the zipper tentatively as if asking for permission.

She tutted impatiently, pulling it down to reveal the electric blue bikini top underneath. Peeling the outer layer off and shimmying out of her pants. And throughout all of this, Bruce still stood by, shamelessly ogling her. She playfully kicked him in the back of his thigh. “Take your clothes off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He tugged the sweater off over his head and leaned in to kiss her again, like he was still craving more of her (she couldn’t blame him, she also hadn’t had enough. She’s not sure she ever would.)

The straps behind her neck and in the middle of her back came undone with one pull, and Bruce was all over her newly-exposed tits. Reacquaint himself with her ribcage tattoo as if he didn’t commit every line, every stroke of color to memory. Fluttering as he knocked the wind out of her with every line, every stroke of his fingers on her slick cunt.

After spending most of their last couple of weeks at school together, Eden thought they’d get it out of their system. The novelty of it all. But the sun never shined on Bruce’s pale skin like this. It never streamed in from their dorm room windows quite so warmly in the New Haven winter. They’ve never had this much room to themselves, not having to worry about noises and next door neighbors.

It was just the two of them, naked and hidden away at the same time in this tiny pocket of a cove.

She’d never been shy about anything ever, but somehow the heat got to her cheeks when she heard her own obscene moan reverberate through the entire first floor, over the sharp slapping of skin as Bruce pounded into her through her orgasm. Arching into him to take all of him deep inside, two weeks of pent-up release and all.

“Okay?” he tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear.

His breathing was heavy, too, but his hand on her back was soothing. He kissed her shoulder and neck, barely —mostly just nuzzling his whole face against her like the gentlest creature she’d ever known. And he truly was a gentle thing. She loved that about him.

And for the first time, she entertained the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she loved him, too.

“I…” she started. “I’m glad you’re here.”

It wasn’t what she was gearing up for, but it would have to do.

For now.

***

ACT FIVE

I’m glad you’re here.

Those four words kept playing on loop in Eden’s head as they made out half-asleep on the couch. Standing under the rain shower in the main bathroom (Well, he was standing; she was on her knees, gagging on his cock.) Giggling in the kitchen as they attempted —and failed— to recreate the Beanjamin’s famous grilled cheese for breakfast. Dipping their toes in the sand, leisurely wading into the shallow waters behind the villa.

She meant every word, sure, but that wasn’t all she meant to say. It’s one word less, but weighs more than what she could imagine. But she couldn’t say it. Not now. Not when things were so nice and quiet and good.

“You know you don’t have to spend all your time with me here, right?”

Eden threw him a funny look, hiding the sudden spike of worry inside. “It’s been, like, half a day. Are you kicking me out already?”

“No! God, no. I know that —I mean, you must’ve made plans, right? With your friends and your family while you’re home. I’m just saying…” he took a deep breath, trying to gather his words —and in doing so, gathered her in his arms, too. “You should still do that. I’ll be fine.”

She hummed, not disagreeing. “And what are you gonna do while I’m away?”

“I don’t know, see the sights? Hike? Snorkel?” Bruce looked out at the horizon, where the sea met the sky, and the trees fringing on the side. 

“Snorkel? I didn’t even know you could swim.” Eden grinned at the thought of Bruce swimming with little fish. They found a whole throng of turtles just off of his back deck and he nearly lost his mind over excitement —as much excitement as his range of expressions allowed, anyway.

He made a face, incredulous and just a little offended. “Of course I can swim.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I can get you a floatie if you want. I think I saw a flamingo one back at the house.”

“Fuck you…” he giggled —a sound so bright and warm that she couldn’t resist being infected by it, even as he attacked her with tickles on her side.

“No, fuck you, Brucie.” She struggled to keep his hands off, even weaving in some pokes on his waist as well, getting into a play-wrestle until they tumbled into the water. Eden came out on top, laughing victoriously as Bruce’s eyes squeezed shut as a wave crashed into his head from behind. “You sure you don’t want the floatie?”

He splashed her right in the face.

Eden had never seen such color in Bruce, such life, and she hoped it would stick around. Happiness looked good on him.

***

Bruce would never admit this to Alfred or Eden, but coming to Hawaii was a huge gamble. He couldn’t remember the last time he went on vacation out of his own volition. He did remember the last time he went to the beach; 14 years ago with his parents. He couldn’t remember if it was this place or somewhere in Southeast Asia, and he regretted that the memory was lost on him.

Part of him was terrified setting foot in the sand would set off an ugly chain of reaction. He was worried that he would be overcome with loss —everything he’d buried in the back of his mind. But he liked the warmth, he liked having the turtles in his backyard —even though one of them bit him in the ankle on the second day and seemed to develop a personal vendetta against him. And Eden was right there to ease him into it.

At this point, he’s pretty sure she could talk him into anything. She successfully talked him into drinking coconut straight out of its shell (which was awesome), surfing (which was awful and he came out bruised and sunburned), and a beach rave on New Year’s Eve (which was… not as bad as he expected.)

“I could get used to this,” Bruce piped up, unsure if he meant the sun and the beach… or playing house with Eden, eating pancakes for dinner on the daybed as the sun set before them.

“Mm, I think you’re having the Last Day syndrome.”

“What’s that?”

“Your vacation’s about to end and you kinda wish you could stay just a little longer —or even like, move here— but trust me, you don’t.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Because it’s an escape. The moment you give it more time than it actually has, it stops being a vacation and it just becomes… your life. And you might grow to resent it.”

They were quiet again. And once again, Bruce was not sure if she was talking about Hawaii or him.

“Then again, maybe a vacation is just what you needed. Remind you of what’s important,” she lightly said through a mouthful of pancakes.

She turned to him then, and her gaze nearly made his heart burst. The light hit her face just right, all tanned and golden. The saltwater made waves in her hair, and a cheeky smirk tickled the corner of her lips. In that moment, he knew what was important. And as she opened her mouth, so did he.

“Like wearing enough sunscreen —what?”

“I love you.”

Bruce froze. The smile on Eden’s mouth fell. And he thought it was over. This blissful honeymoon period, the whole fucking situationship between them… done. And it’s up to him to salvage whatever’s left of it. 

If he could still salvage it.

“I’m sorry. Fuck. Forget I ever said anything —”

“No, wait. Hold up.” She sat right up, and Bruce had never been more terrified in his life. “Do you mean that?”

“I don’t know.” That was completely untrue, he does know if he means it. “Yes!” He went way too big, and she could totally hear the overcompensation in his tone. “I think so.”

“You think so?” her eyebrows shot up.

Great, now he sounded like a dick. “Wait, that’s not what I meant. I… Look. I’ve never —”

“Been with anyone, I know. You were a blushing virgin when we met,: she huffed playfully.

He groaned. “Can we not?”

“And this has nothing to do with dating experience whatsoever. I just… I just wanna know if this is the Last Day syndrome talking, or if this is… it.” 

Bruce had no idea how to answer that. He wanted it to be true, but he had no way of knowing which one was wishful thinking and which one was plain old fact. And Eden had no way of knowing how desperately he wanted it to be it.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he eventually said. A relent. Acceptance.

Defeat.

“I know I don’t.” She took a heavy breath, looking out at the horizon. It’s mostly dark now. “I want to, though.”

“Really?”

Eden nodded tentatively. “I just need to figure out if this is it. I hope you understand that.”

“Right. Of course.” And with that, Bruce nodded back, straightening up, giving her some space —well, as much space as they could allow in this daybed. It’s funny how massive it felt before the elephant in the room got between them.

But Eden closed the distance again, planting a kiss on his lips —nothing but warmth between them— and said, “But I really hope it is.”

And God, they really hoped it was enough.

#bruce wayne #battinson #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfic #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x oc #bruce x eden #haven fic #ava writes #WE BACK BABYYYYYY

[hologramcowboy]

https://twitter.com/raths_kitten/status/1604578613042548736

Jensen also improvised as Soldier Boy and Beau Arlen. He’s going to become the actor you can never fully write for but may get great stuff out of. #SPNNash

https://twitter.com/inpainla67/status/1604578624790843396

jensen: i get texts from the show runner in the editing bay like ‘did you mean to do this?’ and i’m like ‘i dunno!’

Do you think this kind of lackadaisical attitude about the script actually helps Jensen, or hurts him? I would think that it hurts him because I've heard there are shows where improvisation is highly discouraged. It almost makes it sound like Jensen never really memorizes all his lines, he just gets an idea of the scene and uses his own words. To be honest, it sounds kind of lazy, but I was curious about your opinion.

I won't just give you my opinion but that of CDs, producers, writers, acting coaches, etc. An actor who doesn't memorize his lines disrespects the writing and the whole cast and crew. It's a huge no no. It's a very easy way to get blacklisted from auditions or even fired from set.

It sounds like Jensen has the entitlement of an A lister or a guy directing and producing his own movies and he takes liberties that surely offend the professionals involved as he is overstepping boundaries. If his relationship with the people on a particular set is like let's say director is his bff so let's him do whatever, fine but still needs to due inner prep work and proper script analysis.

If he's making calls on scenes without getting feedback from the appropriate people then his career is going to be very short and I am calling it now. Because that denotes a sense of immense entitlement and a lack of care towards others as well as especially towards the storytelling itself. Something a professional actor would never put at risk.

"an actor you can never fully write" is an actor who is incapable of embodying the character and rather creates a caricature of it...Jensen won't work on any A list projects because real actors don't work like that, ever. It's one thing to improvise a line based on your script analysis and inner work and another entirely to wing an entire performance with no through line and with the entitlement that you just work because you're Jensen Ackles. If that's the way Jensen approaches his scenes then he is no Actor, sadly, and he will never be an A lister, unless someone writes a hugely entitled character and then he can just play himself and "improvise" as far as it will take him and it won't take him very far. The industry is looking for actors who truly live their roles and to do that you must understand and embody the character. Jensen is all over the place and doesn't know his characters, he diluted SB and failed to bank on the role and as for Beau, he keeps shifting week to week so who even is he as a character? Because Jensen even changes his vocal register, mannerisms and makes misaligned choices compared to his previous work on the show.

Also, there's no such thing as "improvising" because when you are truly connected to a character you can follow his/her organic impulses and amazing things can happen and so I think this is the angle Jensen is trying to play, trying to come off like some very rare A listers like Meryl Streep who is indeed capable of organically following those impulses and giving you a lot to work with but I guarantee you that even Meryl learns her lines to perfection.

I'm really dissapointed, Jensen sounds like an extremely lazy, self involved actor when an actor should be about allowing others to experience catharsis by giving life to certain truths others can recognize themselves in. Sounds like Jensen goes on set to play different variations of himself and doesn't care about serving the story, the character and most of all the public. Hope I'm wrong but it all sounds pretty bad.

Thank you for the beautiful ask! ♥️

#jensen critical

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Fireflies Over The Wall - Chapter 11

Relationship: The Bell Keeper & Meiri (Original character)

Summary: "The troll brought with herself, every night without a fault, a baby.

Every night, she placed it upon the grass, and pointed upwards, showing her baby the stars and constellations. Showing her baby the fireflies.

Holding it tight. Cuddling with it. Making sure it saw the beauty the world had to offer. He had never considered himself a sentimental man. Yet this image, for some reason, never failed to make him return home feeling something gaping and void inside of himself.

Every one of his former coworkers must have returned to their families.

Who would Edmund return to when he could work no more?

What would give him a reason to get out of bed when the fireflies were no longer enough?"

An OC's origin story as well as a Bell Keeper character study, because this character is much more fascinating than I'd been giving him credit for.

Notes: Title from ‘Monster’ by dodie

 Many thanks to @blaithnne who taught me that you can add another - to the - and make it a –. No, it wasn’t obvious to me. Leave me alone 😭

Chapter title: I’ve said my speech through sharpened teeth

Read it on ao3

For all that had been said, not a lot of ‘change’ had gone on in their lives. Edmund still worked as a bell keeper, though there were less and less of his colleagues every day, he still didn’t go out much even if he was putting an effort – reluctantly, but he was – into connecting with more people outside of just Kaisa, and he still thought cucumber sandwiches were a perfectly acceptable lunch. Meiri still popped around whenever she felt like to play and talk (further proving that the orphanage crew really couldn’t stop her from doing anything at all), still slowly evolved towards opening up, and still denied vehemently the possibility of white bread with scarce vegetables being a nutritious meal.

And while on the topic of continuity, the troll mother and baby still came to that same spot near the wall almost every night. A good deal of mushrooms had grown around, which meant that now Edmund was even more helpless not to smile when he watched the stone child play with them. They had changed, though. The kid was learning how to utter sounds, now; mostly variations of ‘ah’ or ‘bah’ that he’d hear them say it every now and then, making him come to the strange realisation that he was being witness to the growing process of a creature he was supposed to be protecting the city against.

Ah, well. At least he could say he had two kids in his life, one way or another.

It was only a shame that he only had that to entertain him during the night. The days remained as boring as ever, considering there were no trolls, no fireflies, and Meiri was generally at school. She wasn’t one to ditch class, and even if she were, she probably knew he wouldn’t endorse it and go somewhere else should she ever decide to slip away.

Which was why Edmund was so startled – almost to the point of falling off the wall, mind you, a situation exclusive to when the girl popped up without a notice – when he heard his cabin’s door bang on an early Saturday morning when she should probably have been on her science program activities. Or something. He still didn’t really understand how those worked.

No one was around; someone very rarely was. So Ed didn’t think three times about going down there to check what was going on, since it could only possibly be Meiri causing that noise. She was the only one who he had ever given a key to.

He did, of course, think twice, because if only Meiri had it, then it could very well be a burglar and even if he was confident he could win in a physical fight, he’d still rather avoid it; he wasn’t in the mood. But also because if it really was Meiri, then chances were she was not in a good mood and it would be playing with fire to try to talk to her depending on how true that was.

So, after a moment, away from his post he went to practise some freestyle malabarism with torches.

His door had been closed, but left unlocked. After the way it had been banged so loudly that he had been able to hear it, that had been the second sign that something was wrong. Meiri would usually lock the door after coming inside if she knew it had been locked before. He walked in making as little noise as possible, not seeing anyone on his couch, trying to reach his kitchen counter, looking disapprovingly at his fridge contents, nor perusing his bookshelves. Sign that something was wrong number three.

“Go away!” Said an obviously distraught voice from his second floor. Sign that something was wrong number four.

Or, well, proof that something was wrong at this point, he supposed.

“Meiri, if you want to be alone, I can leave you to yourself. But only if you come down here and promise to stay here while I’m away. There are cutting things up there, I’m not leaving on your own with them.”

After they’d come to their agreement, Edmund had cleared the first floor of most anything that could bring harm to a six – now seven – year old child. Save for cutlery, of course, it’d be ridiculous to take those to his bedroom, and he was counting on his cupboard’s height to gatekeep them from her for the near future. But he hadn’t actually done anything to make sure they were inaccessible should Meiri ever go to the second floor. Which now felt like an oversight.

“Fuck off!”

The months that had passed had brought more opportunities for Meiri and Kaisa to interact. Some of the appeal that the witch had held in her eyes seemed to have faded, being switched into suspicion every time she failed to hide her magic and annoyance every time she failed to hide her idiocy. But the connection between a young girl and the cool older woman they’d picked as a role model was no fickle thing, so even if Edmund managed the colossal effort to not swear in front of her, it was all in vain and she’d picked up a thing or two. Edmund walked towards the ladder with as much dignity as he could manage while being told off in his own house by a kid a quarter of his size.

“That’s no way to talk, young miss! I see you’re upset but there are better ways to handle this.”

He climbed up the ladder, needing only to climb three steps until he could catch a glimpse of the girl. She was curled up beside his bed in her typical distress position, but lifted her head to glare at him with red eyes as the creak of the ladder denounced his approach. There were no tears running down her face, but that didn’t make her look any less upset, her mouth curled back and the lines of her face sharp.

“Leave me alone!” She snapped as Edmund raised himself into the second floor, not standing up since he’d loom over her but rather sitting on his heels with some two metres between the two of them. He was dangerously close to the edge of the platform; an unforeseen imbalance could tip him to fall backwards into what would be a very ugly fall. But Edmund didn’t think Meiri would feel comfortable if he got any closer. She already didn’t.

“Meiri, talk to me. What happened?”

“None of your business!” Was the angry answer to his levelled question. “None of it is!”

Now, Edmund had never considered himself the most patient of men. Nor the calmest. But even though her words were clearly meant to sting, they couldn’t hit their mark. Not when he knew her so well. Not when he could see that she was only a child, too young to properly process everything that was going on around and inside her. Especially not when he could see her eyes, staring at his defiantly. Angry, but not in a cold way. Like an animal lashing out.

Her voice kept raising in volume, and he wasn’t sure if it was intentional or if she’d just lost control over that in her anguish.

“You’re always bothering me! You keep asking me stuff you can’t possibly care about, and telling me things that I don’t care about!” Her shouts rang loudly in the cabin, echoes of a pain he thought he’d never properly understand. “You’re just a sad man who has to talk to the first freak who shows up on his porch because nobody else wants to!”

Edmund nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. He had no idea what one was supposed to do in that situation, other than the very basic (if often forgotten) guideline that you don’t lash out at literal children no matter how pissed you are. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t actually feel mad at her, not in the slightest. It was as if his worry had overtaken any other feelings he might have. Considering the only parameter he had to dealing with similar situations was trying to calm down actual angry animals, he decided that following that logic was as good of a conduct as any. Which meant keeping calm and not moving fast.

“And why wouldn’t I want to talk to you?” He spoke normally, but compared to Meiri’s current tone it sounded like a whisper to their ears.

“Shut up! I know what your deal is.” His concern was momentarily exchanged for curiosity as Edmund hoped someone would at last be able to say what the hell was up with him, before he remembered that a seven year old was probably not where his philosophical answers were going to come from. “I know you’re just sad and alone and nobody likes you! I know your life is crap and that's why you put up with me. I know you’re only sitting there because you have nothing better to do!”

She looks at him expectantly. Waiting for a fight. Whether she was challenging, expecting, hoping, he didn’t know. But she definitely was waiting for it. Which was too bad, he’d have to disappoint her. Because her words were sharp, yes. Not careless, but carefully chosen to attack every one of his weak points which she’d gotten to know during their time together. Unfortunately for her, he had gotten to know her just as well as she had him, and he could see through it. He could see that the worst of it wasn’t directed at him. He could see, in fact, that none of it really was.

After moments of silence, during which she only seemed to get more upset and confused judging by her miserable expression, he softly sighed.

“Go on.”

Meiri blinked, clutching her legs closer to her chest, preparing for whatever the conclusion of this trap would be. She knew what to do with anger. She knew what to do with crying. She knew what to do with pointing fingers and accusations that she wasn’t even trying. With this strange request, though, she hadn’t the slightest clue. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly a couple of times before she could articulate a single word.

“What?”

Edmund didn’t smile. He was tired, and he was worried. Not only that, but he knew that even if punishing her wasn’t acceptable (and not even his place, obviously) the impression that her own behaviour was ideal or something to be repeated at will wasn’t one he should give. Instead, he kept on looking at her eyes while her anger waned and she began attempting to set her gaze anywhere else without looking like she was backing away, maintaining his best poker face.

Guess the card games at The Salty Maiden served some purpose, after all.

“Go on, firefly, get it all out.” He said, slowly so as to be sure he was making himself understood. “Nothing you say will change how much I care for you. So let it out. If you hold these ugly things inside yourself they will only make you feel bad. It’s okay.”

He might as well have told her he was going to have her sleep outside the wall with hungry wolves and lurking trolls by her reaction. Edmund didn’t think he’d ever seen her – or anyone else, for that matter -- look so terrified and wretched. The crying restarted, though now of a different kind; tears flowed freely down her face, which he couldn’t really see since it was immediately hidden, her forehead resting on her knees. Edmund sighed, and almost sat back on the floor before realising there was no floor behind him and he’d just take a two metre high fall. He scooted forward just enough to sit cross legged, but no closer, feeling helpless to do anything but look dejectedly at the sobbing girl in his bedroom.

Maybe this was a mistake. He had only seen her cry like this once before, and both times had been because of him. They were currently sitting in the house’s single bedroom, which she would have to share with him if she ever came to live with him. His futile bits of random information on How To Act Around Children combined with his apparently rancid instincts had led her to a breakdown after she’d come to him already in crisis. Who was he kidding?

True, she’d been the one to come here in the first place, apparently trusting it as a safe space on a bad day. And he didn’t think his reaction had been damaging to her, all in all. But it was hard to know. Too many things could hurt a child. He didn’t want to be one of them.

And yet, she came, mused his mind as he slouched, doing nothing other than watching her hopelessly for a couple of moments.

And yet, she came, whispered his mind as he climbed down the stairs, as silently as possible.

And yet, she came, shouted his mind as he dialled the number he had already memorised by now on the black phone by his door.

And yet, she came, cried his mind when he hung up, knowing the conversation had been too silent for her to hear over her sobbing. And his mind continued the cry up until the moment his door was knocked at.

At that point, Meiri’s crying had already subsided; Edmund had placed a glass of water near her some time before, but he highly doubted she had so much as looked at its direction. She remained in the same spot and position, though, meaning she didn’t get a visual of what was happening at first but could definitely listen.

“Thank you for calling.” Terry said, looking almost as defeated as Edmund did. “The school already had and we were already on our way, but everyone was very relieved to be certain she was here.”

Edmund nodded. He wasn’t sure he could do much else. Before he could try to reason with himself about whether it would be better if he went to get her or if Terry did, the blonde had already entered his house and headed to the ladder. He instantly knew that was the wrong move.

“I don’t want to go!” Meiri shouted with apparently preserved lung potency, even if the sound was raspy due to her scratched throat. The man hadn’t even climbed the ladder fully, and he sighed.

“Meiri, you need to.” Terry argued gently. “Edmund needs his house, dear.”

Even if he couldn’t see her, Ed could imagine what she must look like, trying to curl herself even tighter, squeezing herself against the side of his bed, unable to back away any further.

He heard a sniff. A dry one. She probably wanted to cry again, but had run out of tears.

“Meiri.” Edmund said with the warmest voice he could, even if it came laced with exhaustion. “You need to be somewhere that actually makes you feel better. I don’t want you to stay just to feel worse. But if you want to, that’s between the two of you. I have to go back to my post.”

With the girl finally having scooted closer to the edge of the second floor, Meiri’s head finally became visible as Edmund headed for the door, trying his best to pretend like he was remotely interested in actually returning to work. But he had to. He had a feeling they’d never get anywhere with him in there, because he’d correct Terry every time the man implied she had to leave for Edmund’s sake, and he wouldn’t even feel bad for it.

“Wait!” She cried, almost throwing the caretaker off balance with how quickly she’d arrived at his side. “Can I come back?”

Edmund sighs, gripping the doorknob a little too tightly.

“You always know the answer to that, Meiri.”

He walked away and really hoped that the troll family didn’t show up that night.

#meiridom #fic fotw #my fic #hilda oc #the bell keeper hilda #meiri #meiri (oc) #the bell keeper fanfic #hilda the series fanfic

[sleepy-achilles]

This was for Leon's nightmare 1. If you remember, Leon initially gets possessed because ministry caused him to have a bike accident. Well this was the alternative bike accident.

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

Leon smiles to himself as sheamus and drew argue over the comns. "Its not the same" drew protests. "How would you know! Leon tell him it's the same damn thing!" Sheamus protests. "I aint getting involved." Leon huffs. The boys were enjoying their one day off to take a long bike ride to the next show. Leon even let sheamus ride his favourite bike. It was his first ever bike, it also was his entrance bike. Sheamus gushed and cooed at him when Leon said he could ride it.

It was mainly because Leon got a new bike and wanted to test it out. And well he could either have his bike transported with the other 'props' or just have sheamus ride it about. He trusted sheamus more than the crew. Normally drew would ride it but sheamus asked if he could come with them.

So Leon said yes.

And well Leon didn't want sheamus on the back with him again after last time. So he let him take his baby for a ride.

And he was regretting this.

His normal peaceful ride was turning into a school trip.

"Ah whatever! Leon how fast can this baby go?" Sheamus asks. Leon glances at the road before pulling to the side. "Take her for a test. Just be careful." Leon tells him. Drew chuckles as the beloved bike zooms past them. "I will, gotta keep your baby safe or vince will fire me" sheamus jokes. Leon rolls his eyes but continues riding.

"We really should stop for food soon" drew comments. "Whatcha fancy?" Leon asks as drew tightens his hold on Leon's waist. "McDonald's" sheamus purrs. "McDonald's it is then" Leon hums. "Yes! Leon your the be-" drews heart drops as their comms fill with crashing and then goes dead. "Sheamus?" Leon asks. "Sheamus!" Drew yells.

Leon speeds up. "Leon! Look!" Drew points. Leon glances at the rubble on the road. Its his bike. That's when Leon's eyes land on the bike. The bike bascially tied around a tree. Leon bike is bascially still moving when he jumps off and towards the crash. "Sheamus!" Drew yells. "Im here!" A hand raises from a ditch. Leon beelines away from his bike and too the ditch, drew close behind. "Im sorry!" Sheamus whimpers as he sits up. "What?" Leon stumbles to his knees, cupping the mans helmet. "Your bike-i-im sorry Lee. I'm so fucking sorry" sheamus cries.

"The bike?" Leon asks looking back at the bike. "Fuck the bike! I want to make sure your okay" Leon scoffs flipping their visors up. "B-b" "sheamus, I'm serious! The bike can be fixed, replaced. You cannot." Leon tells him.

Drew watches as the redhead pulls the blonde into a hug and starts blurting apologies and thanks out.

Drew smiles at how far they've come.

Leon hugs sheamus back, his eyes landing back on the bike as he uses his hands, and well powers, to search for any major injuries on sheamus.

His eyes connect with the all too familiar ones. The grin on his face as he leans on the bike.

The crash that's conveniently happened to both him and his father too many times.

The bike always wrapped around a tree.

Leon ends up holding sheamus tighter as the demon chuckles.

He has to do something. And fast. Before his loved ones suffer.

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I think I changed it because I didn't believe Leon would end up getting possessed from this. But when you think about it, if ministry was like yo, you or them. Leon would pick himself.

I also love Leon and sheamus relationship. And well didn't want to write harm to sheamus.

#wwe #the undertaker #wwf #leon michaels #sheamus #drew mcintyre #leons nightmare

[kim-ruzek]

As a WOC, I absolutely love Stella and Stellaride, but since mid-season 10 and now with season 11, I feel like they have become overused. We are only 5 episodes in, but every major storyline and synopsis have had Stella at the forefront. I know she is now the Truck Lieutenant and the other half of CF's only major ship, but I don't want them to overuse her because it will become too much, similarly to Gabby from seasons 4-6.

The show needs to start feeling like an ensemble show again. As the leads, Matt, Kelly and Sevasey managed to give the show balance, if I'm honest, in a way that I hadn't noticed until Jesse Spencer left.

Like where are the storylines for Ritter, Hermann, Mouch etc.? Even Boden is being completely underutilised.

I personally can't attest to whether this applies to ep4 + 5 of s11 because I haven't watched them (and probably won't be watching fire again until either something big with stellaride happens or s12 comes along) so take this with a pinch of salt since those two episodes could've changed my thoughts on this, but I actually think it's still pretty well balanced.

I mean, technically I agree. Bc it is very Stella (and Kelly) and Stellaride heavy, but that's purely just because they're both the lieutenants and in a relationship. Their focus isn't really that more than what Matt/Kelly/Gabby used to get, it just feels more because they're double timing as both lieutenants and major ship, whereas with sevasey had the friendship + being lieutenants and then separate love storylines.

And so for me, it's not them overusing Stella, but under utilising the rest, like Ritter, Hermann, Boden and Mouch, which has been a growing problem, and honestly been a problem for quite a few seasons now. But in my mind theyre not under using them because they're overusing Stella, that's two separate problems.

I also don't necessarily agree that it'll be too much if they continue. The nature of fire has always been that the lieutenants, especially truck's, get a lot of focus, not just in personal life but in the interaction with the crew. I do think that needs to be adjusted, because other characters deserve more of the spotlight than they get, but I've thought that when Casey was the TL so it's not just exclusively a Stella issue.

And honestly? The writing in terms of giving characters balance has been going downhill since the last Gabby days, and I do have a problem with it, but as this point I'm kinda resigned to it and the way I see it is at least it's a badass WOC leading things, you know?

And the issue with Gabby, imo, is that she was overused, yes, but in a very overpowered everything is about her way that felt inorganic, but it doesn't feel that way with Stella. At least not more inorganic as the constant attention on Matt and Kelly has felt at times.

The three episodes I did watch did feel like an ensemble show to me. Not as much as it did when it first started, but more than it had been feeling. I mean there's a few characters that very obviously hasn't gotten attention in that ensemble and therefore just feels like glorified extras (Ritter being #1 for this!) But there's been enough characters who's had parts that it felt like an ensemble, just a smaller one than the one they actually have!

But this is just how I see it! And ofc I haven't watched two episodes. And the great thing about fandom is that everyone perceives things in their own way, so I hope things start feeling more balanced out for you!!!

And thank you for sending me this ask, you know how much I love hearing other woc's opinions, even (or sometimes especially!) when they differ to mine! ♥️

#ree's asks #chicago fire #thank you for asking!!! ♥️♥️♥️ #stella kidd #stellaride #Chicago fire spoilers #<- bc i don't know if this ask could feel spoilery ti the episodes i haven't watch #so for safety I'll tag it