#but the comic still stands and even if it can be hard to remember some mm characters or plotlines the comic's coverage is still clear to me
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Tardy, part 9
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: It’s time to take down Ghostface once and for all…nothing can go wrong, right?
Warnings: Graphic Violence, Language, Angst
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: There’s also fluff in the beginning because it wouldn’t be me without fluff…happy reading! Don’t forget to tell me what you think <3
The rest of the evening is spent in bliss. Tara in your arms splayed on the floor while you guys whisper disgustingly sweet nothings into the other's ear.
The morning after is no different. You wake to the smell of burnt bread, bacon, and eggs.
You get up drearily, try to stretch and immediately regret it when you feel a sharp sting pull at both your shoulder and stomach.
Humph. Last night almost made you forget you had two additional holes in your body.
You poke your head into the kitchen and smile cheekily.
"Good morning sunshine. Whatcha making there?" You hum, waltzing over to stand behind your girlfriend.
You don't see her face but you can tell she's pouting. Her shoulders tight, fists balled at her sides.
"The bagel burned." She says, letting out a tiny huff.
You peer over her to see 4 halves of a bagel burnt to a crisp, sitting sadly at the feet of the table.
"I can see that." You chuckle. She turns around quickly, big frown on her face.
"It's not funny. This has never happened before." She whines.
"It's a little funny. I mean, who would've thought an amazing chef like you would burn some plain ol bagels?" You tease, tilting your face down to press a kiss to her hair.
She pinches your sides a little too hard in warning.
"Okay, okay! Come on, I'll do the bagels. The bacon smells amazing though, you should go check up on those." You suggest, watching Tara brighten up at your praise comically fast.
You can almost see the imaginary lightbulb spark above her head.
"Yes. That's what I'll do." She grins, sauntering over to her bacon and eggs. She turns back quickly as if she just remembered something.
"But not because you told me to." She says, a mischievous grin on her lips. You roll your eyes but nod nonetheless.
She picks up her phone from the counter, presses play on a song.
It fits the energy nicely. Sort of slow, sort of upbeat. It's very romantic though.
She senses it too, you can tell by the way she snakes her hand around your waist and pulls you closer for a dance.
It might look a little silly from an outsider's perspective, you'll admit that, but it fills you with warmth.
It's times like these you want to use those cringy words couples are always describing their feelings with. You feel fuzzy. You want to forget about everything else in the world and focus on her.
"Tsk. tsk. Lovebirds, outta the way, I'm starving!" Mindy exclaims, popping out from god knows where. You frown a little at the intrusion.
She hurries over to the fridge, grabs a stray piece of bacon on her way there; earning her a light slap from Tara.
She rummages through the fridge, moving things left and right and out and in again.
"What's got you so excited?" Tara asks, sharing a look with you. Mindy doesn't turn as she answers.
"Not excited, I'm getting prepared. Can't defeat Ghostface with an empty stomach, can I?" She replies jokingly.
It's enough to ruin the mood. It makes you remember it's not just you and Tara in this world, and absolutely nothing is currently fine.
You straighten, clear your throat. Then turn to Tara, hoping you can still pretend to live in the moment.
"Shall we have breakfast, m'lady?" You ask, bowing dramatically.
You can tell it doesn't work. Tara's eyes darken again.
"Yeah...yeah. Let's." She says, sending you a small smile and pulling out your chair for you.
You squeeze her hand three times and try to send her a secret signal. She smiles a little, returning with three squeezes of her own.
-
You're quiet most of the ride to your apartment. The seven of you are crammed into Sam's little SUV; knees pressed together uncomfortably.
"What's the plan again?" You ask, trying to relieve some of the anxiety that's forming inside you with a distraction. The untimely news about your father had shaken you a bit, leaving you with no memory whatsoever of the plan the rest of the gang had made.
Tara's the one who answers you.
"We call Ghostface, get him to come to your apartment. You, me, Sam, and Chad will be waiting. Try to get him to fall for the trap, cage him up, shoot him and then we chop chop and pretend this never happened for the rest of our lives." She says simply, with all the chill of someone who's planning a holiday vacation.
When you get to the apartment, Sam equips herself with a net gun, the most important weapon; because she claims she's the only one who can use it. She's not wrong about that.
When she hands out the rest of the weapons to the group, you can tell she sees the hesitance on your face. You're tired. Not ready to fight.
The only weapon she gives you is a tiny pocket knife.
There's a trap set up right at the front door, and if all hell goes loose, there's a secret gun stashed in your bedroom.
You're not confident in the plan, not at all. There's way too much assuming what Ghostface will do when you all know he's a deranged psycho with a mind of his own.
By the time you get there, trap at the front door set, you're shaking. It's an unfortunate habit, really. You feel the dull ache in your stomach get worse with anxiety.
You're all standing smack dab in the middle of your living room. Nobody's relaxed enough to sit down.
Mindy, Ethan, Anika and Danny are situated together somewhere downstairs, in hiding. Ready to signal to you guys if they see anything suspicious.
You told them that you shouldn't split up, and safety was in numbers; but alas, the four of them had refused.
"Don't worry. We'll be safe." Ethan had said to you before he left, quickly following behind the other three with a skip in his steps.
Now, Tara inches closer to you, obviously sensing your turmoil. She grabs both your hands in hers and brings them up to her lips to kiss each of your knuckles. Her face is tight, determined.
"I'm gonna kill this fucker for what he did to you." She whispers, low enough for no one else but you to hear.
Normally, you'd laugh and quip back that she's way too tiny and weak for that, but the way she's looking at you; all mad and worked up sends shivers down your spine.
You open your mouth to tell her you'd happily do the same for her, but the indistinct sound of a phone ringing beats you to it.
Sam looks down at the contact and her expression turns unreadable. She sends all of you a final 'you ready?' look.
"Hello, Samantha." Comes the raspy voice out of Sam's phone.
"Hi." Sam grits out, grip so hard around the net gun that her knuckles turn white.
It's quiet for too long, almost like Ghostface is unsure of what to say. You raise an eyebrow internally.
Wasn't Ghostface supposed to be like super witty and stuff?
"Hey fuckface, would you mind telling us where you are? I'll show you mine if you show me yours." You say, voice light; sort of teasing. Tara grips your hand hard in support.
"Oh, YN...you didn't think I didn't know about your little plan did you?" Ghostface drawls and all four of you pale almost collectively.
"Plan? We just want to meet the fucker that wants to kill us," Sam says, eyes darting back and forth between your windows.
"Why don't you show yourself hm? Or are you too much of a pussy that you can't even fight me face to face?" She taunts, and you try to bite back the surprise on your face at her tone. She's serious, snarl on her face, fire evident in her eyes type of serious. It scares you a little.
What scares you even more is that you agree with her. There's something stirring deep in you, the feeling of ever losing Tara, the random uncalled DNA test, the fact that this fucker wants to take you away from her.
It's never going to happen.
You're about to open your mouth and bully the hell out of Ghostface when a loud shrill scream cuts you off.
You can feel the atmosphere change immediately.
It's not like your first night up on the roof with Tara now, you know what you're supposed to do. Or at least you kind of know.
You dart out the front door, leaping past the trap door you've made and practically sprint down the flights of stairs.
You can hear the three of them close behind you, footsteps hurried.
"Guys?" You call out.
There's a thumping sound and an animalistic groan. It makes you run even faster.
You round the corner to see Danny pressed up against a wall, Ghostface too close for comfort and thrashing wildly.
He's putting up a good fight, dodging and throwing in punches when he can; but it's clear who has the upper hand here.
"Hey, fuckface! Get away from my girlfriend's sister's boyfriend!" You yell, as loud as you can.
Damn, that's wordy.
You grip Ghostface's shoulders, using as much force as you can to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze in an attempt to try and pry him off Danny. You manage to throw him back, and quickly steady your feet as he tries to take a sloppy swing at you.
"Danny, where's the rest of them?" You question, looking around to see no sight of Ethan, Anika nor Mindy.
Ghostface surges at you again, and you dive to the side, kicking him in the side.
"I don't know, they just left." He says, sounding exasperated. You scrunch your eyebrows at his statement.
You see Sam behind Ghostface, ready with a beer bottle in her hand.
Huh, wonder where she got that.
She slams it down on his head hard, and Ghostface lets out a whimper. He swings madly at the both of you, not letting you approach. Then, he dashes out the lobby door before you guys can do anything.
You see the internal conflict in Sam's eyes. She wants to follow Ghostface, but she also wants to check up on Danny and his sort of worrying-looking wound.
"Stay with him. I'll follow Ghostface." You say, your tone authorative. You know she needs to hear it right now.
"Absolutely not." Tara pipes up, rushing up to you and putting her hands on your waist.
As if that was going to stop you.
You lean down quickly and press a kiss on her cheek.
"I have to go. Like right now. Or else we're going to lose him." You murmur, rub her back comfortingly. You can tell she's about to open her mouth and argue again, but Chad beats her to it.
"I'll go with her, don't worry Tara." He announces. He grabs you by the arm and urges you forward.
You mouth a quick 'love you' to Tara and run out the front lobby door, Chad in tow.
It's not hard at all to guess where the three of them could've gone. You notice the splatter of blood beneath your feet immediately; signal it to Chad.
"Holy shit." He whispers.
It's a lot. It has to be at least a gallon of blood, paving a clear way, hand prints and feet prints crazy and wild.
There's a spluttering sound to the left of you where the blood trail starts getting bigger and thicker. In big, random splotches till it stops right in front of a bush.
It would be a good hiding spot, if it weren't for the liquid painting everything crimson.
You round the big bush, weary; scared of what you might find. The pocket knife is pressed hard in your hand.
"Ethan?" You say as you see the brunette boy propped up against a wall, hiding behind the bush, hands pressed to a wound at his ribcage.
He looks extremely close to death. Like the grim reaper is five seconds away to coming and sucking the life out of him type of dead.
You don't waste a second. You rush over, fall to your knees, already feeling tears prick at your eyes.
"No no no, please." You murmur to no one in general, gripping and slapping at Ethan's shoulders, trying to get him awake.
His eyes are half-lidded, breath coming in in short sharp gasps.
You turn sharply, scream at Chad to get down here. You make him press at Ethan's wound further while you grab desperately at your shirt and ripping a piece off.
"YN." Ethan croaks, trying to get you to look at him.
There's no time, you can't. You can't let him go, not when you've just started to get to know him. Your closest friend, under you, bleeding out slowly.
There's no use trying to stop the tears now, tears stream down your face, blurring your vision.
You take the cloth in your hands and wrap it around his wound, tight, in hopes of stopping the bleeding.
It's too late, you all know it. He's already lost too much blood. He shakes a little and it makes you look up.
He's laughing.
He doesn't get to do it for very long, because blood is trickling out his mouth and choking him.
"Please, Ethan. I need you. Please don't go." You plead, taking his hand in yours and squeezing as hard as possible.
You feel the faintest squeeze before his hand falls entirely limp.
"I love you." He whispers, and then he closes his eyes. It looks almost peaceful, like he's falling asleep after a long day.
You're sobbing now. There's nothing holding you back, just pure carnal screams.
Chad sits, hands limp at his sides. Like he doesn't know what to do. He's crying too, you notice, but it's hard to see anything through your hazy vision.
You know they were close too, to the point where Chad was comfortable enough to introduce Ethan to the rest of the gang.
You feel hot, and the sadness switches to anger fast. You feel enraged.
You stand up, look both ways.
"Ghostface! Show yourself you fucker, or I'm going to hunt you down and gut you myself." You yell, hands gripping the pocket knife so hard the handle sinks between your fingers a little.
Immediately you hear something coming from the back of you. You're knocked back and stumble onto the pavement, a blur of black and white on top of you.
Your heart picks up till you feel like it might explode. Ghostface's taking your arms and placing them above your head, trying to stop you from moving.
You scream as he takes his knife and slices open the wound on your stomach once again, not too deep for it to be fatal; but enough for you to feel like you want to die.
He gets knocked over by Chad, who's standing arms flexed and ready for more fighting if necessary.
You roll over, get as close to Ghostface as you can, and try to sink the pocket knife into his chest.
You hit something hard and furrow your brows, trying with all your might to press down so you can finally kill the fucker.
He's wearing a bulletproof vest, you realize all at once, and try to change the directions of your knife.
It's too late, because he's recovering already. Ghostface reaches down to grab at your shoulder wound. You hiss, retracting immediately at the pain.
He takes that opportunity to get up and flee, but not before aiming a knife to Chad and throwing, ninja style.
"Yeah, flee you pathetic coward." You growl, taking Chad's extended hand and getting up.
"Guys?" You hear Sam call out, somewhere somewhat close.
"We're over here!" Chad yells out, and it takes only moments before you see the three of them running towards you; faces distraught.
Sam and Danny slow down halfway when they see that there's no immediate danger, but Tara picks up her pace, rushing towards you and all but flings herself into your arms.
You wince, but hold her tight.
She pulls back when she feels the thick sticky liquid painting her own shirt red. Her hands dart to cup your face, deep frown on her lips.
"You got hurt again." And her voice cracks as if she might cry.
"I'm okay." You try and reassure, tilting your face and kissing her hard.
You pull back, too quick for her liking.
"Ethan." You mumble, suddenly feeling weak in the knees.
"Ethan what?" She asks, trying to wipe the blood off your face.
"He's dead." Chad answers, voice hollow.
Tara's face changes immediately. She knows how close you were with him.
"Oh baby, I'm sorry." She whispers, rubbing comforting circles at the top of your head. You bend down, bury yourself in the crook of her neck so she doesn't have to see you cry.
You sniff slightly.
"So like...what do we do with the body?" Danny pipes up.
"We'll call the police. No use calling the ambulance now." Sam answers, eyeing you while she says the second part of her sentence.
You don't react, trying to block out the noises around you and focus on Tara. You think you might break down if you don't.
"Where's Anika and Mindy?" Tara asks softly, moving her hands to rub at your back now.
"I don't know." You mumble, shake your head to affirm your statement.
No one says anything for a long moment, but everyone's thinking the same thing.
"You guys don't think...Anika and Mindy are the killers do you?" Chad asks, a little hesitant. He sounds in disbelief.
Sam moves to touch his bicep lightly, trying to offer him some comfort. He leans into her touch, shoulders sagged and defeated.
"We don't know," She says, "but we should find them. Before we make any assumptions. Tara, call YN an ambulance. The rest of you follow me."
There's always a sense of authority in Sam's voice that makes you want to follow, want to believe in her.
Tara nods at her sister, and leads you onto the edge of a sidewalk where you can sit freely.
She walks away to call the ambulance, and you watch as the rest of them walk away; till their silhouettes look the size of an ant.
You turn your attention to the road in front of you, the busy city. Not a single person bats an eye your direction, and you wonder how not a single person had come to your aid when you were screaming for your life.
"God, I hate people." You say as Tara sits down beside you.
"Me too." She says with no hesitance. You turn your head to look at her.
You think you understand her trauma a little bit better now. You can't even imagine doing all this a second time.
Your girlfriend really was a special kind of person.
She smiles at you softly, and the lamps above you light her face nicely.
"We'll be okay." She says, and squeezes your hand three times.
You hum but don't say anything. Squeeze it back three times.
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#tara carpenter x y/n#tardy#scream vi#tara carpenter x you#vada cavell x reader
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This is kinda of random but why is Hecate short? I'm just curious because out of all the bad things in LO I liked how tall Hecate is and how she wore suits. ( she does look stunning in your version too )
I've found when it comes to character heights, it's really hard to discern what the actual intention was in their designs as Rachel's statements often contradict the actual appearance of the characters in the comic and how they compare to one another. For example, some people have stated Rachel revealed in her Patreon chit chat posts (or in FB groups, don't remember which) that Hades was unique for his height, being as tall as 10 feet, but as we see him in the comic, he's often closer to being 10 feet wide than 10 feet tall LOL (I don't think Rachel realized how big ten feet was when she said that tbh)
So in that regard, from a design POV it's hard to gauge if Hecate is actually that tall, or if she just appears tall because she's sometimes drawn at shoulder height with Hades (doesn't help that the character designs are always fluctuating), but also it's hard to say if one can be considered "tall" when standing next to Persephone who we know Rachel always draws disproportionately tiny compared to everyone else, to the point of outright infantilizing her.
TL ; DR: I had to pick a lane with the character designs and Hecate seemed more like she would realistically be closer to Persephone's height than to Hades (if Hades is someone who's supposed to be uniquely tall which I'm definitely trying to make him, he's meant to be a little over 6 feet tall in LR). And even Persephone's height is still around 5"5-5"7, so they're not even that "short", they just often appear shorter in relation to Hades. At least, that's the approach I'm going for lmaoo (my standard marker for it is that Persephone comes up to his chest / collarbone area).
Plus - though this is just my personal opinion - it's also just nice to have more characters around Persephone's height, not only to showcase how much taller Hades is compared to most people around him, but also to make her a little less singled out in the height department, as LO often made her absurdly small to the point of infantilizing her (￢_￢;)
That said, Artemis is taller than Persephone coming in around 5"9, and Aphrodite is meant to be quite tall (p much the same height as Hades!) and we'll be seeing more of her later on in the story, so fear not, there are tall girls to be found :'3 <3
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HELLOOO I'M BACK ok ok remember how I said in Jax's analysis that the zapping scene could actually have a lot of information into it?? Let me elaborate:
There are two things that mainly caught my attention in that scene:
1 - How the lightning bolts that come out of the collar are yellow
2- How the shock is really quick (literally just a snap)
"Oh that must be just a stylistic choice right? don't look too deep into it-" WRONG!!!
In the Jax's Doodles, when Caine bites down Jax's head, we can see that he started bleeding in black. Why can I affirm that his blood really is black and it's not just because the comic is in grayscale?
For this reason:
During the Teatre Shenanigans, though it was all an act, it's implied that Ragatha does bleed in red, since, you know, the color is there, and because if it was any other color Pomni might have not believed it.
Also, let's be real, Gangle would not mess up something as simple as someone's blood color - her plays need to be >perfect< I love her so much omg
Still using the Theatre Shenanigans doodles as information, but with the addition of the new comic of Pomni taking the shortest stick, we can see through Gangle's ribbons that if there are colors that are portrayed, even when the comics are in black and white, those colors are red and yellow, so if his blood was actually red, it would've been painted as such.
So with that in mind we can pretty much say that his blood is, in fact, black.
As we can see in the part 2 of the neck pieces, his speaking bubbles are also in black and white, and, through an ask made some time ago, it was confirmed that he can only see in grayscale, and that's the reason why Gangle is the one in charge of coloring his animations.
EVERYTHING, literally EVERYTHING about Jax is monochromatic, grayscale, black and white, 50 shades of gr- you got it. He is NOT supposed to be associated with any color AT ALL
And that really highlights how out of place are the yellow bolts that come out of his collar. Jax is not supposed to have any type of color. The shock emitted from his neckpiece does not match with the way his level is supposed to be, doesn't match with his room, his character, his code, but why would that be??
Is there the chance that the chain wasn't his original collar? It does make sense if you look at some of the theories, especially regarding Kinger's role in the bigger picture. In the Imgur image, Kinger does mention to Queenie that he found a code that could free everyone from their collars, but, the main catch here, is that he could NOT disable it after it was done.
Well, we know that he did disabled it, and as a consequence, Queenie abstracted soon after
After it happened, Kinger probably was really desperate to put the collars back on the other AIs, he didn't want his friends to have the same fate his wife had,
But he couldn't disable the code that took them off, so what could he do now??
Simple answer:
He created a new code, so there could be new collars
That ties up with the ask answered with "it's hard to put a chain on someone if they have a scarf on", Jax's chain was probably not part of his design originally, it was not made for him, it was not part of his code in the first place,
Pure speculation, but this might be why Jax's supposedly new collar doesn't follow in every aspect the whole monochromatic idea that his design was meant to have. The yellow lightnings stand out because Kinger probably didn't put a lot of effort into the new collars, he didn't make sure that they matched with the quirks and characteristics already coded into the characters, as he was too desperate to put them back on and just made the code as quickly as he could.
At most he just made the neckpieces blend in with the AIs designs, so they wouldn't stand out. They just match at a superficial level.
(funny part is that Jax probably didn't even notice the yellow coming out of his collar, he can't see colors 😭).
This is why I imagine that his original design never had a chain to begin with, both because of this information, AND, because in Jax's room, we can see him wearing the scarf in the ripped out poster.
Was the scarf supposed to be his original neckpiece? But why would he still wear it after everyone had taken theirs off (as seen in the restarting scene, in the same comic)? To be honest I think he just liked how it looked, he did seem to have a fashion sense back then.
But, by that theory, of the chains not being his actual design, he has also chains on his feet, was his whole design altered?? Why would it be?? I still don't have any clue on why, gotta wait a little for more information.
I like to think that his current design reflects on his character, being a prisoner of both the game and his mind, and quite literally stuck in the past, being unable to move forward.
OK Now for the second part of the analysis
Remember my comment, saying that the shock he received was really quick? That stood out to me because during Ragatha's reset, when she also received the shock to avoid her abstraction, her shock was actually longer than his, being a "ZPPPPPP" instead of a "SNAP". Something I've also noticed is that both times when Jax got shocked, it seemed to be at a less intensity then when Raghata was, because there was a difference in line thickness and size of the lightning bolts shown.
After Jax's restart, in his room, we can see three centipedes, that's the most bugs we've ever seen in the same room until now, since we had only seen a single ladybug in Ragatha's garden, right after her reset.
Ok, so, I did talk a little about how Kinger might be the one responsible for the collars, and I also made an ask this one time to know if he was using the bugs as a way to keep an eye on the others (that was me!!! Hi!!)
If you pay attention to the relationships between the cast, we can see that Ragatha and Kinger are actually pretty close. They trust each other, while Jax seems to have a rocky relationship with everyone.
That might be the reason why there were more bugs than usual in Jax's room, because Kinger doesn't trust him and is aware of his rebellious nature, so he must feel the need to supervise him to a higher extent when compared to others.
Besides that, while Ragatha is really unstable, she doesn't seem to need to restart that frequently, therefore it's possible that only a small shock is able to make her restart. Jax, on the other hand, has already been shown being shocked twice, both with a bigger intensity than seen with Rags.
I believe that if Kinger truly was the one responsible for the collars, he also must have set the potency of the shocks in a way that it was only used the intensity necessary to reset them, so they didn't need to suffer more than needed.
Since Jax does behave in a more erratic manner when compared to the other AIs, the potency of the collar must have been set in a way that it would be able to restart him as quickly as possible, which means it must be in a higher setting,
On the other hand, Raghata probably needs less power for her to reset, because, while unstable, she's not as rebellious as him, so her settings are lower. In the comic used as a reference, however, she is shown to be extremely stressed, so for her to restart it might have been needed for the shock to be at a higher intensity.
Since her collar is not programmed to give such strong shocks, the solution found was for it to last longer, at least in that moment. That can also be the reason why Kinger appeared in the loading screen, because he got worried with the possibility of the collar not being able to stop her from abstraction, so he went to check on her.
That's everything for now!!! It did take lot of work to transcribe the stuff from the theory board to here (it's pretty disorganized ashuhuash) ,but I think I managed to express most of my analysis/theory!!
-carol
CAROL WHEN I CATCH YOU CAROL- DHLJKHKSJGH
I ADORED THIS SO MUCH- HDKJH i want you to know that I was reading it all in Matpat's voice which made it so much cooler "omg guys a Gametheorist made a theory about me hhehehe"
saving this.. SAVING THIS.. CAROL YOU ARE A GIFT= HXCKJSKA definitely gonna read this again.............
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Hi there!! I just saw your tags on the Vash marksman appreciation post and I really REALLY gotta know your thoughts on the fight choreography bc while I did martial arts as a kid I don’t remember everything and just extremely curious!! Wanna appreciate the thoughts put behind making this boyo!!
👀👀!!! Yes, hello! (Note: I'm also about 10yrs rusty out of practice in hapkido--a Korean defensive art that combines many styles from judo/aikido/etc, so while I may not remember all the formal terms and stuff, I can still SEE the very real and very sexy close combat choreography + randori/grapples/ground work they're smoothly throwing in there!) I've briefly tag-ranted on some former gifs I've reblogged here & here but OK, I can indulge into a little more detail! :D
Let's start with this gif, which is such a nice introductory tease!
The point-blank bullet dodging is some of that sick looking 'rule of cool' inhuman spice, but oh what's this?? 👀 The other dude is dumbly holding his arm out (non-defensively, since if that guy were smart about close fighting, he'd have his other hand up at the ready too) right in Vash's personal space, ripe for the taking - to which OH YES he easily blocks with the prosthetic arm and transitions right into a throw for the takedown. Where he shoves the fool over his shoulder with a lot more power (which is hard to do, esp from a standing position without a solid grip on any lapels either; woo he just goes right in for it), rather than using the dude's own momentum against him, since the guy's literally just standing there (as a stationary weight) rather than trying to punch him in a brawl. But LOOK what else Vash does!!! His block with the prosthetic becomes a grip that both holds/pulls onto the guy's arm during the throw and disarms the guy - by tossing his gun away, in one swift movement! :O Not only that, but there!! We see the first quick tease of him reverse-griping his own heavy brick of a gun into a tonfa position to strike the guy at the back of the neck for a non-lethal stun!!! That is SO cool!!! ;o; Some galaxy-brained application of his no-killing fighting style (using both arms + his revolver in his repertoire...oh wait, that already makes up the title's literal 3 guns *gets shot*) where it looks so fresh and seamlessly smooth af. Great stuff.
Then the Livio fight, despite him being double-armed with long-range weapons, is full of close-range gold from the way Vash tackles him, straddles him, and pins him to the floor with a (forceful!) choke to the throat (like whoa excuse me hello), but ALSO from the self-aware way Vash always has his guard up to keep both of Livio's guns out of the way at all times. D: Whether parrying bullets with his prosthetic, blocking/holding the guns away with that arm too (as shown), or even using his own gun defensively as a tonfa-shield to reinforce his blocks as well.
So then we get to THIS GIF, the same sequence that drove you insane for his smooth marksmanship tracking, drives ME insane for his immediate close-quarters holywhattheflyingshit did he just DO!?!?!?! 👀👀
LOOK AT HIM!!! Honestly it's kinda hard to see everything from how fast he goes, but I love the way he zips in there to grapple Livio off-balance, and ahh!! Look at the way Vash ducks and defensively keeps both arms up (this is SO important, because once you've trained you'll notice how in so many movies/comics' 'rule of cool' martial arts moves, they'll often have a character wildly swing their arms out to the sides to counter-balance kicks and stuff, but no--that's bad/unsafe form; bc if you're in a real fight you need to keep both arms up and ready at all times if you want to protect your core/face from getting blown off! Which just as you've noted, is something that needs to be practiced! The fact Vash has kept his unblemished pretty face for 150yrs is testament to that~) Vash knows how to simultaneously use his prosthetic AND his gun as needed--cause look at that, he swiftly holds it reversed as a tonfa again to block Livio's gun swing, which is a really cool way to use a gun as a shield to protect his own flesh arm from the incoming blows.
But that's not all, because ahaaa~ Fighting defensively is not all he's got up his sleeve! The little boxing jab he throws to Livio's face with his prosthetic arm makes me giggle, because OH YEAH that's a real thing! A type of distraction strike you pull - the same as stomping on a foot or kicking someone in the balls, to disorient your opponent off-guard first before you serve your real (offensive) move. Which in Vash's case leads up to a....O___O;;!?!? TF is THAT.
Here's where they're teasing in more of that inhuman spice again, because Vash holds Livio's guns out of the way (as usual) and revs up for a....fucking one-punch to the solar plexus at point-blank?!? D8 Whatwhatwhatwhat!!! Because that wasn't his gun's doing at all; he was still holding it defensively in that arm as a tonfa! That was his real arm's natural brute strength bitch!!! aaaahaha!!! wow I love it. The guy modestly says he's not much of a fighter but that's not trueeee at all, is it~ ;) I can SEE real proof of that otherwise and I can't wait for what else studio orange will show us to blow our minds.
*Ahem* So anyway did I ever mention how much I like the way he reverses the grip on his gun to use as a tonfa? (both defensively as a shield to protect himself and offensively to stun/strike his opponents with) For thematically how much it seamlessly works for his fighting style to never kill, for how the improvised (but practiced!) close-range practicality and versatility of it looks crazy awesome, and because damn, that shit's hot.
#trigun#gif#commentary#totallynotsilversora#replies#hoho so happy to oblige to share more nerding out insanity for him#studio orange really did their homework that's both recognizable and flattering to those who know our shit!#(just don't ask about the footwork as that's where i'm too rusty to comment on the physics without jumping back in the rec room to try)
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Never Say Never
Chapter 14
Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader
Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.
No posting schedule.
18+ only for eventual smut
Word Count: 8.9K
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
You grinned, holding out your arms when you spotted Eli coming out of the school with Jeremiah, waiting for the usual running hug you received that almost knocked you over now that your boy was getting bigger. But instead, your little boy just trudged slowly over to you, his head hung down toward the sidewalk beneath his feet. Your heart seized, just like it always did when your son looked anything but happy.
It was one of those moments of being a parent that reminded you how inextricably your heart was linked to theirs, your happiness, your very life. There was nothing that would smash through a good day with the force of a wrecking ball like seeing your child heartbroken. And right now, Eli looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to that beautiful little organ in his chest.
“Uh-oh, it doesn’t look like someone had a very good day,” Steve muttered softly next to you as Jeremiah walked up to him, not looking much happier than Eli. He ruffled his son’s hair. “Hey kid. How was school?”
Jere shrugged, “Okay.”
“Just okay? No crazy stories to tell today?”
“Not really.” The boy sighed, the sound so big it took up his whole body, glancing over at Eli who was standing stiff and quiet next to you.
You didn’t like this. Both boys were far too subdued. Their usual excitement and chattiness after school was nowhere to be found. Eli’s arms were wrapped tightly around his middle as if he were protecting himself from some unseen danger or trying to hold something in that was threatening to fall out.
“Hey buddy,” you said softly, placing your hands on your knees, leaning over so your eyes were at his level. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” he snapped shortly, turning his body quickly as you reached for him, rejecting your touch. “Can we just go home?”
Steve shared a worried look with you. You stood up straight, offering your son your hand but he didn’t take it, your heart breaking just a little at his refusal of even this small comfort.
Steve stepped forward, dropping to his knees in front of Eli, “Did something happen at school?”
“I said I want to go home,” he stubbornly replied, refusing to look at Steve.
“I know and your mom’s going to take you home but you know, if something happened, you can talk to us. Talking about stuff usually helps me feel better.”
“Nothing happened and even if it did I don’t want to talk to you about it,” Eli growled and then stomped away.
But he paused when he got to the curb, remembering he wasn’t supposed to walk into the parking lot alone. So instead he just stood, arms folded, glaring off into the distance. It should have been comical how he still followed the rules even when he was so angry but you were unable to find anything remotely amusing about this situation.
You could see the hurt etched across Steve’s beautiful face. But he recovered quickly, rising to his feet. Stepping into him, you kissed his cheek, offering him a sympathetic smile. You appreciated that he was trying to help but this one might have to be on you. You just hoped he wasn’t taking Eli’s rejection too hard.
“Thanks for trying. I’m sorry he said that. He doesn’t mean it. Not really. He’s just upset right now. He adores you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” He was trying to shake it off but not doing the best job of it. You could see Eli’s dismissal had rattled him. It had to be jarring when the kid usually worshiped the ground he walked on most of the time. “Yeah. It’s fine. I just thought…you know…maybe he’d talk to me guy to guy or something but it’s fine.”
“I’m going to talk to him,” you assured him, resting your hands against his chest. “I’ll figure out what’s going on.”
“Sure looks like he might be a tough egg to crack.”
You smiled, “This isn’t my first rodeo with moody Eli.” You winked. “Trust me. I’ll get him to tell me.”
Jeremiah spoke up, “Brent told him he doesn’t have a dad.”
“What?” Steve turned to his son.
The boy shrugged, “We were at recess playing superheroes. We were wearing the capes that Mrs. Perry always lets us borrow from the dress-up bin and Brent was picking on us like he always does. He said we were gay because we liked to dance around in capes and that we were gay for each other. Eli got mad and said he’d rather be gay than be a jerk. Then Brent said at least he still had a dad and that was why Eli was running around in a cape because he didn’t have a dad to show him how to act like a real boy.”
A boulder the size of a small town was pressing down on your chest, a tidal wave churning your stomach, as you took in Jeremiah’s words. You swayed on your feet, your eyes darting to the pink shirt with flamingos that the art teacher was wearing, the bright yellow shoes on a child’s feet running past, the rainbow painting that adorned the window of a kindergarten classroom.
Steve hand found yours, fingers slipping between your own and he squeezed tightly, grounding you. You focused on the pressure of his hand, the tips of his fingers pressing into your palm, as you listened to the sound of children talking, bringing yourself slowly back from the brink. Steve was murmuring something in your ear and as your heart rate calmed, you could finally focus on his words.
“I know you’re upset and you have every right to be. But I’m right here with you. You’re safe. Breathe for me.” As you opened your eyes and nodded, he gave you a small smile before turning back to his son. “Brent? Is his dad the one that has that giant American flag attached to the bed of his pickup truck?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that explains it,” he grumbled. “His parents are ignorant assholes. Of course they’re raising a kid who’s a little jerk. They’re probably proud of his bullying. His mom was the one at the PTO meeting yelling about the kids reading James and the Giant Peach because it promoted mysticism and that went against the bible.” He rolled his eyes and then began looking around. “Are they still here? I’d be more than happy to have a talk with them.”
“Steve…”
“Seriously honey. That’s bullshit. How dare that kid say something about his dad. How cruel can that little shit be? He’s going after a kid for having a dead parent?”
“Steve…” you tried again.
“That’s his truck.” He pointed. “It’s hard to miss. He’s got to make sure everyone knows what fucking country he lives in. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he knows just what an asshole he’s raising his kid to be.”
He began to step in the direction of the truck and you jumped in front of him, holding your hands out to block him. Those hazel eyes met yours and the fury you saw there, the absolute anger for your son and what someone had put him through, knocked the wind right out of your body. Because that four letter word began flashing like a beacon in your mind, the word you were trying so hard to ignore.
“Steve, stop. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Really I do. But you know as well as I do that nothing you say to that dad is going to change the way he thinks. You can’t change someone who doesn’t see anything wrong with the way they think. Those kinds of people are convinced they’re right because they have God on their side and nothing you say will make a difference. It’s only going to cause a bigger problem. I’ve got it, okay? I will get Eli some hot chocolate with marshmallows when we get home and he and I will talk. I’ll have him right as rain before you and Jere come over later.”
“Are you sure? Because I can handle myself. That guy doesn’t scare me. I know he’s big but you know what they say? The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
“I am not doubting your ability to take him down,” you smiled, reaching out to squeeze his biceps assuringly. “You are a very strong man, Steve. I am sure you could lay him out but I am sure. I would rather focus on what I can change which is Eli’s reaction to people being mean. There will always be awful people in this world and my son has to learn how to navigate that.”
“Okay. If you’re sure…” His hands came to his hips, eyes down on the sidewalk before he finally looked back up at you. He was letting it go but you could see how much it pained him to do so. “I’ll be there around five so you can head out to meet the girls, okay?”
“I’ll see you at five.”
A quick kiss and then you were walking next to your surly child across the parking lot to the car. Your stomach rolled, knowing this was going to be a tough conversation to have with him, knowing it was going to be difficult to even get him to tell you what happened.
Your sweet boy, always concerned about you. You already knew why he was keeping it secret, why he felt he needed to just squash it down and live with it. He thought that telling you would make you sad. Eli lived with the fear that his mom would disappear on him again, retreating into that dark shell you had disappeared into for a while after Justin had died. But you needed to show him that you were strong, that you weren't going to fall apart at the mere mention of his death, that you could be there for him, that he didn’t have to shoulder so much of it on himself.
The car ride home was silent. You kept stealing glances in the rearview mirror but your son kept his focus out the window the entire time. You kept the music off, allowing him to feel what he was feeling, to stew in it for a bit before you tried to get him out of it.
Your therapist was always telling you not to fight your emotions, to let them come. It was okay to feel. It was okay to be sad. It was okay to be angry. We had to allow it in, recognize it for what it was, and only then could we try to move past it. Eli’s therapist had told you much of the same thing.
You'd had some rough moments the first year after Justin’s passing. Eli had lashed out, throwing things and screaming. He would burst into tears over the simplest inconveniences. He was feeling big emotions that his five year old body didn’t know how to handle. Sometimes those things still reared their head for no logical reason whatsoever. But as you'd learned, there was no time limit on grief and it would hit in the weirdest ways at the weirdest times and it was okay.
You pulled in the drive and before you could even get out of the car, Eli was stomping up the sidewalk and waiting on the porch. You quietly followed, unlocking the door, watching as he unceremoniously dropped his backpack to the ground. He tried to escape up the stairs but you stopped him.
“Eli, please don’t go up to your room yet. I would like to talk to you.”
“Why?”
“Because I can tell that something is bothering you. If something happened that made you mad, that’s okay. You’re allowed to feel mad but you still need to talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled.
“I know you don’t but if it’s because you think that you’re going to make me sad…you know, that’s okay. It’s okay if I feel sad. I am not going to crumble or hide in my room anymore from being sad. I don’t want you to be scared to talk to me.”
“I’m not scared. I’m just angry. I’m furious! I hate Brent!”
“Hate is a really strong word.”
“Well, I feel really strong about it!” he screamed, his little face as red as a tomato. “He’s so mean! He said I’m not like a boy because I don’t have a dad! He said I’m gay like gay is bad but it’s not! He’s always saying stuff like that to people! He told Chris that it’s no wonder he has poor people shoes because his mom spends all her money on beer! He smacked Beth’s cookie out of her hand and told her she didn’t need it because she’s fat! He’s always mean! The teacher sends him to the office and calls his parents but it doesn’t change! He’s still mean!”
“And that makes you angry.”
“Yes, it makes me angry! I wish I was bigger so I could punch him in the nose but he’s so much bigger than me. And if daddy were here then he could teach me how to be tough because he was a soldier and he was tough. Or he could go punch Brent’s dad and tell him to have Brent leave people alone but he’s not here!”
“Oh honey…your dad was tough but he wouldn’t have punched somebody like that.” You moved toward him, dropping down in front of him. “Your dad would have tried to teach you how to handle people like that and violence isn’t the answer. A kid like Brent, he just wants to hurt people. He wants to see them sad or angry. Maybe because he’s so sad and angry that he thinks it will make him feel better but it won’t. But when people like him don’t get what they want, they move onto someone else. You have to be confident in who you are and know that nothing he says means anything. No one gets to define who you are but you.”
“But he shouldn’t be allowed to say that stuff!”
“No. He shouldn’t. And in a perfect world, no one would ever be that cruel but it’s not a perfect world. You’re going to come across people like Brent your whole life. Eli, I still come across people like that. It doesn’t stop. You can’t control what they say or how they act. All you can do is control how you respond.”
“Well, that just sucks.”
“It does,” you agreed. “But you can choose to be a good part of the world and I believe the more good people there are, they can outweigh the bad ones. If you all stick together and stand up to him, not just you but all the kids he’s picking on, he’ll back off. There’s strength in numbers and bullies don’t like an unfair fight.”
“So we should all beat him up together?”
“No,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “That’s not what I’m saying. But if you all stand together and tell him you’re not taking it anymore, tell him we feel angry when you call us names and say mean things and we want you to stop. Isolate him. Try to get the rest of the class to stick together at lunch and recess and don’t include him. Show him that if he acts that way then no one will want to be around him.”
“But what about Travis and Ricky? They follow him everywhere.”
“Well, maybe if you all ignore them too that will change. They’ll see that hanging out with him doesn’t have the perks they think it does. People who stick to a bully usually do it because they’re getting something in return. Sometimes it’s simply because then the bully isn’t picking on them. But if he has nobody else to pick on, I am betting he will turn on them and they’ll change their mind pretty quickly.”
Eli considered your words for a minute and then nodded, “Okay. I still think he needs a punch in the nose but I won’t do that. Monday I am going to try to get all the kids together at recess and tell them the plan.”
“There you go.”
“Thanks mommy.”
“Anytime sweetie, you know that.” You pulled him into a hug. “Don’t ever be scared to tell me what’s going on. It’s my number one job to make sure you are safe, healthy, and happy.”
“I know.”
“And I know that it scares you that I am going to go to that dark place again.” You ran her hand over his hair, breathing in that little boy scent that was fading far too quickly. “But I’m not. Mommy’s done a lot of work to get to a better place and I know what to do now if I’m feeling that way. I have my doctor just like you have yours and I can call her any time. I am not going to disappear on you again, okay?”
“Okay…I just don’t like to see you sad. And I feel like you’re always sad when we talk about Daddy.”
“I’m not always sad. But yes, sometimes it makes me sad because I miss him so much. Just like you do. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about him. We do that all the time. I tell you stories about him all the time. Because while it’s unfair that he was taken from us, we were so lucky to get to have him for the time we did.”
“I just wish he was still here. It sucks not having a daddy.”
“I know it does, baby.” You squeezed him harder, wishing you could make all that sadness disappear but unfortunately this was one thing you would never be able to fix for your son. “I know it does. But remember, you do have a daddy. Sadly, he’s not here anymore but you do have one. And he never would have chosen to leave you. He loved you more than anything in the world.”
“Even more than pizza?” Eli asked with a smile.
You laughed because you'd shared with your son how much his dad loved pizza. It was why they ordered it every Friday night. Justin had always wanted pizza. Even for his birthday dinner he would request pizza and you would tease him, telling him that wasn’t special because they’d just had it last week.
“Yeah, even more than pizza.”
The sound of the phone ringing broke up your moment and you pressed your finger gently to your son’s nose, earning a smile in return. Rising to your feet, you grabbed the cordless from the end table, pressing it against your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello dear. Is Eli there?” Judith asked sweetly and you handed your son the phone without even responding, making your way into the kitchen.
“Hi grandma!”
His words flowed into the kitchen as you made yourself a cup of coffee. After your conversation with her just three days ago, you had nothing to say to Judith right now. Nothing that you trusted yourself to say anyway. The woman had immediately started in on you because Eli had told her that mommy had a boyfriend. The questions came shooting at you, one after another, so fast you couldn’t have answered them if you tried.
Who is this man?
How well do you know him?
Is he educated? Does he have a good job?
How long have you been seeing him?
Don’t you think it’s a bit soon for him to be meeting Eli?
It didn’t matter that you had told her that Eli had been friends with his son before you started dating. She wouldn’t listen to the fact that Steve was Eli’s baseball coach so he already knew him. Judith was already digging in her heels, convincing herself that this man would not be good enough to have around her grandson. And the cycle just continued itself with the focus on Steve now instead of you.
“Yeah. He said at least he has a dad and I don’t have one so I don’t know how to be a boy. But I told him that I was going to have a dad soon because Steve’s going to be my dad.”
The mug slipped from your fingers, smashing against the tile floor as your son’s words reached your ears.
“Mommy, what was that?” Eli called.
You stared down at the shards of ceramic, the creamy brown liquid spreading across the gray floor. Your hands shook as you robotically crouched down, grabbing at the pieces. You had to pick them all up before Eli came in. He couldn’t cut himself. Wrapping your hand around a large chunk, the letters apolis oo all that was left of the mug that Justin had bought you when the three of you had gone on a long weekend to Indy with Eli, visiting the zoo and the children’s museum.
“Mommy?”
You stared at the letters as they slowly went fuzzy, your grasp on the piece tightening.
“Mommy, you’re bleeding!”
Your eyes moved to your hand, red trickling from within your closed fist, a slow scarlet river making its way over your wrist and down your arm to drop and mingle with the coffee on the floor.
“I don’t know grandma. Mommy broke a mug and she’s bleeding.”
“I’m okay,” you finally managed, opening your hand to release the jagged piece of ceramic. Your son. You kept your focus on your son. “Just stay back, honey. I don’t want you to cut yourself.”
“Grandma wants to talk to you.”
“Well, I can’t talk right now. I need to clean this and myself up,” you stammered, standing up. Moving to the sink, you turned on the water, allowing it to run over the cut. It was deep but not so deep that it would require stitches. “Just go sit in the living room. I am going to wrap my hand and then I will clean this up.”
“Grandma, mommy can’t talk. She has to get a bandaid and clean,” Eli explained as he walked away.
Inhaling slowly, releasing the breath between pursed lips, you leaned against the sink. Jesus, this was just what you needed. Judith was going to have a field day with this one.
___________________________________________________________
“What should we do tonight?” Steve asked Jeremiah as they rode over to your house.
He was watching the boys while you went out with all of the girls for a few hours. What had started as a casual suggestion at Eli’s party turned into a plan within the course of a couple days. Nancy had been the one to call him and tell him he needed to watch Eli for you because they were taking you out Friday night. He just hoped they all took it easy on you. He loved his friends but they could be a bit overwhelming, especially for someone who wasn’t used to them yet.
“I don’t know.” Jeremiah shrugged sadly, that despondent look still on his face that had been there since Steve had picked him up from school. “I’m not sure if Eli will even want to play with me. He wouldn't even talk to me after Brent said all that mean stuff. Do you think he’s mad at me?”
“No. Why would he be?”
“I don’t know.” The little boy sighed, the sound filling the interior of the car with his misery. “I didn’t say anything when Brent said all that stuff to him. I should have told him what a big fat meanie he is.”
“Well, why didn’t you?”
“Because he’s scary, Daddy. He says the meanest stuff all the time and he’s big. What if he wanted to fight me or something? I know I pretend to be a superhero but I’m not really one. I don’t think I could win.”
“Being a superhero isn’t about hitting somebody, Jere. Sometimes it’s just about using your words to let someone know that what they’re doing is wrong. It’s about doing the right thing even when it’s hard. And I know that can be scary because then they might start saying those mean things to you. But if you and Eli stand up to him together then you won’t be alone. He needs to know that what he said isn’t okay. It was a really horrible thing to say to someone who experienced a loss like Eli has.”
“I know. Daddy…?” Steve’s eyes caught Jere’s in the mirror as his son asked, “Will you go to heaven like Eli’s daddy did? Because I don’t want that to happen. I would be really sad if I didn’t have you.”
His heart sank faster than a rock in the lake. Everything in him wanted to promise his son that nothing like that would happen. But there were no guarantees in life. No he wasn’t in the military but life was not promised. One day you could be fine and the next you were gone, sometimes without any warning.
“Well, buddy. Everybody dies eventually. You know that. But I don’t do a dangerous job like Eli’s daddy did. And I am a pretty healthy guy. I eat all my vegetables and exercise. So, I don’t see that happening any time soon.”
“Good.”
Jeremiah seemed satisfied with his answer and Steve was grateful for that. He hadn’t lied but he’d also assured him. And chances were he would be around for a long time but he couldn’t promise it. And he’d sworn to himself a long time ago that he wouldn’t promise his son anything that he couldn’t follow through on. The amount of broken promises that his parents had made to him as a kid could fill an Olympic sized swimming pool.
He pulled in the driveway and they were barely out of the car before Eli came racing out to grab Jere, much to his son’s surprise and joy, the two of them darting into the house and up to his room before Steve had even made it in the door. At least the kid seemed in better spirits. Whatever you had managed to do must have turned his mood around.
When Eli had said he didn’t want to talk to Steve, it had damn near gutted him. He knew he hadn’t been around that long but he felt like he’d bonded with the kid already. Clearly not enough for him to turn to him for comfort yet but they’d get there. He chose to set it aside and believe that one day Eli would allow him to be that person for him.
“Hey there.”
You came out of the kitchen, a smile on your face that didn’t quite turn up in the corners, tight and closed on your face. Eli’s mood may have been lifted but it appeared yours had taken a sudden plummet. He noticed your hand was wrapped up with white gauze and stepped toward you with concern.
“What happened?”
“Oh, nothing. Just me being clumsy as usual.” You laughed, the sound hollow, not at all the usual melodic sound that he found so pleasant. “I dropped a mug and when I was cleaning up the pieces, I accidentally cut myself.”
“Is it deep? Do you need stitches?” He reached to take your hand but you stepped back.
“No, no.” You waved him off, grabbing your purse from the hook with your good hand and draping it over your shoulder. “It’s not deep at all. I cleaned it and everything. It’s fine.” Your eyes darted around before you made for the coffee table, grabbing your keys. “Anyway, there’s a frozen pizza in there if you want or whatever. You’re welcome to anything you can find in the kitchen. I don’t think I’ll be out too late.”
Steve snorted. “You’ve never hung out with this crowd. Robin will keep you there forever just talking.”
“Well, I’ll try not to be out too late so you can get Jeremiah home.”
He shrugged as every nerve ending in his body was firing, letting him know that something was going on here. Something was definitely wrong and you were doing your best to not show it but failing at it miserably. He could read it in the way your shoulders tensed up by your ears, the way you gripped your keys in your unbandaged hand until your knuckles were white, the forced way you were trying to sound casual but was anything but.
“I don’t mind. He’s easy to haul. Once that kid is asleep he is dead to the world.” You went to move for the door and he placed his hand on your arm, stopping you. “Hey, did everything go okay with Eli earlier?”
You paused, the tip of your tongue running over your lip, “Uhh…yeah. I mean, he was sad but we talked about it. We talked about ways he could handle the situation and I think he’s feeling a lot better now that he has a plan.”
“Plan?”
“I told him to try to get all of the kids in class that this kid picks on to band together against him. If they tell him they won’t let him treat them like that and choose to stay away from him, who knows? Maybe that will be enough to change him. Bullies like that love attention and they love to get a reaction. If you take away their motivation, then it loses all the fun.”
“Huh…” Steve hadn’t ever really thought of that. He’d thought about teaching the boys some nasty comebacks or possibly even teaching them how to throw a punch. “How very diplomatic of you.”
“Well, I don’t want my son thinking violence solves everything. Besides, the kid has only used his words. As far as I know, he hasn’t put his hands on anyone. Mind you, they’re nasty words but you don’t have to put more evil into the world to win. I prefer to believe you can do that by being kind while also standing up for yourself. I want my son to set boundaries with people but I don’t want him swinging every time someone says something he doesn’t like.”
“No. I mean, that’s great. I just never thought of that. I mean, when I was in school, you always dealt with those people a certain way. You had to be faster with the insults or swing to show you were tougher.”
“Yeah and that’s the problem. You swing on someone when you’re an adult and you could find yourself in the back of a cop car.”
“Well…” He grinned, eyes rolling to the side with amusement. “Unless you happen to know the Chief of police.”
You stared at him, deadpan. “Even then punching someone like a neanderthal doesn’t solve anything. This world has enough violence in it. I would prefer my son didn’t add to it.”
“I get it. I’m just glad he talked to you.” Steve stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking down at his shoe as he toed it against the carpet. “He obviously didn’t want to talk to me.”
Your bandaged hand fell gently on his arm, “Please don’t let that bother you. You know he thinks the world of you. Eli adores you. He just…stuff with his dad is going to be tricky. I don’t know if he knows how to talk to you about that just yet. I know he’s told you what happened to Justin but…this is different. He was embarrassed. He felt like he didn’t know how to handle this kid because he didn’t have a dad to show him.”
“But he has one hell of a mom who knows exactly how to handle it,” Steve told you, one hand running over your bicep, the other settling on the side of your waist. He could feel that tension he’d been sensing since he’d walked in the door seeping from your body, your muscles releasing under his hands. It made him feel ten feet tall to know that just his touch could help you relax.
“Maybe. That’s yet to be seen. I don’t want to have to storm up to the school and be all mama bear but it’s not beyond me. We’ll see if this plan works. If not, then the principal will definitely be hearing from me.” You glanced down at your watch and then reached up, your hands cradling his face. “Look, thank you. I mean it. It means so much to me that you care enough about Eli to try to help.”
“Of course I care about Eli. I love that kid, almost as much as…”
He cut himself off, cursing himself. It had almost slipped out. Just that quickly he’d almost broken the rule he’d set for himself. The rule that he would not say it first. He would not push you. He didn’t want to make you feel like you had to say it back. He didn’t want to freak you out by moving too fast.
But you knew. You knew exactly what was about to come out of his mouth. You stared at him, those lips like cotton candy parted in a perfect little o, those beautiful eyes like two big mirrors reflecting the panic he knew was written all over his face. Shit. Was this it? Were you going to run? Were you going to tell him this was all too much, too fast? You'd agreed to take it slow and he’d just revved the engine into high gear.
Taking a step back, your hand ran over your hair and you winced as your wound pressed against your scalp. Clearing your throat, you lifted your purse higher up on your shoulder.
“Anyway, thanks. I uh…I should really get going. I’m supposed to meet the girls in fifteen minutes and I’m going to be late if I don’t leave right now.”
“Right. Yeah. Don’t wanna be late,” he stammered, suddenly unsure of himself, feeling like he was walking a tightrope, staring at the ground, seconds away from teetering too far to the left or right.
“I shouldn’t be back late.”
“We’ll be here.”
Jesus. He had to get control of himself. The words came out way too high, syllables cracking like a prepubescent kid whose voice was changing. Trying to gain back some of his cool, he leaned, resting one hand on the wall, nodding and smiling at you.
“I got this. Go have fun.”
“Right. I will. Yeah. Thanks…” you mumbled, reaching for the doorknob.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?” You halted your rush to escape, glancing up at him.
“Kiss goodbye?” he asked hopefully.
“Oh. Right.”
Leaning up on your toes, you pressed your lips to his. But instead of balancing him, it left him feeling like he was tilting, ready to crash. It was quick, forced, almost uncomfortable as if you were being told to kiss your uncle that you really didn’t want to.
“Umm…bye…”
And then you were out the door as it clicked closed behind you. Steve’s hand curled into a fist that he bounced against his forehead.
“Idiot!” he muttered angrily.
____________________________________________________________
Your hands shook against the steering wheel as you drove toward Brewed Awakening. Had Steve really been about to say what you thought he was about to say? No. He couldn’t have been. It was probably just a slip of the tongue. He’d been talking about Eli. And who wouldn't love Eli? You might be biased but your son was very lovable.
But you couldn't get it out of your head. If he felt that way did you feel that way too? Was he going to say it? If he did, would he expect you to say it back? Should you say it back? Should you say it first? Did you even want to say it yet?
Truly, Madly, Deeply by Savage Garden began playing on the radio and you quickly flicked the dial down. Your brain could not handle lyrics about dreaming someone into life right now. Hadn’t you thought the same exact thing about Steve? That he couldn’t be real. That you'd somehow wished him into existence because he was too perfect to actually exist?
Did you love him? That word had crossed your mind more than a few times when you'd been together, in fact as recently as this afternoon. But you weren't sure if you could trust your feelings. It had been so long since you'd been in a new relationship. Didn’t your brain release serotonin that could make you feel like it was love when it wasn’t? Or was lust clouding your emotions? Making you think you were feeling things you really wasn’t yet.
But what was love, really? At the most basic level it was an emotional bond that brought two people together. But there was nothing basic about love. Love was feeling like the dullest day was made more exciting just because you got to spend it with them. It was how every minute was made brighter by their mere presence. It was having someone that made the worst moments better just by being next to you. It was having someone you wanted to share everything with. It was missing them when they were away and wanting to spend every moment you could with them. It was knowing that you were safe. Love was realizing that home was not some structure made of four walls but a person.
“Holy shit…” you breathed, your grip on the steering wheel so tight that your cut on your palm began to throb and you had to remind yourself to relax. “I love Steve…I am in love with Steve.”
The realization threatened to send you into a tailspin, wildly whirling out of control. You pulled into a parking space in front of the cafe and sat, staring out the windshield because you just couldn’t wrap your head around it. Somehow it had happened without you even truly realizing it. It had snuck up on you. Janice had asked you and you knew you felt a lot for him but you hadn’t allowed yourself to consider that word. It was too big for something that had just begun.
Now what? Did you tell him? No. You couldn’t. You would wait for him to say it first. Steve had been with that crazy Janet lady who had latched on far too quickly. You didn’t want him thinking you were like that. No. You weren't even sure he’d been about to say it to you. You would wait. That was the right call.
“Shit!” you screeched when someone banged on your window, jumping so high you almost hit your head on the ceiling of your car. Turning, you found Robin grinning at you.
“Hey! What are you doing sitting in your car?”
Inhaling a long breath, you attempted to steady yourself. You had to set this life altering epiphany to the side for now until you could talk to Janet. You sure as hell were not divulging this information to Steve’s friends. Shutting off the car, you opened the door and stepped out.
“Sorry.”
“Is everything alright? We were all waiting there for you. We saw your car but you weren’t getting out so I said I would check on you. You appeared to be deeply lost in your own thoughts.”
“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” You grasped for an excuse and realized you already had a ready made one. “Eli’s just having some issues with a boy at school and he was really upset about it today.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Robin replied as you headed into the cafe. The other girls were already at a table, smiling and waving when they saw you.
“Hey. We thought maybe you were scared to come in after I told you we wanted all your deep, dark secrets,” Max teased with a laugh. “You know I was joking, right?”
“Yeah. No, I wasn’t scared.”
“Some kid’s being a dick to Eli and he was sad,” Robin explained for you as you took a seat.
“I didn’t say anyone was being a dick.”
“Well, it was implied,” Robin replied, tracing her finger over the swirls of the pattern on top of the table. “I assume he was upset because some asshat was being a bully. Trust me, I can read between the lines.” She pointed to herself. “I was a band geek in high school. I’ve dealt with my fair share of assholes.”
Nancy leaned in, hands cupped together on the table. “What happened?”
Your cheeks puffed up before you blew out a long breath. “This kid and him got into an argument on the playground. The kid was saying that him and Jeremiah were gay for each other because they wear capes and run around. Eli got mad and told him he’d rather be gay than be a jerk.”
“Oh, nice comeback! I love your kid!” Max grinned.
“Yeah. Well, then this kid said at least he still had a dad and that Eli acted the way he did because he doesn’t have a dad to show him how to be a real boy.”
Nancy’s jaw dropped, “He didn’t!”
“That’s so mean,” El added softly, hands tucked into the sleeves of her shirt, fingers playing with the edges.
“It’s also bullshit. Eli has a dad. He just passed away. He didn’t take off or leave,” Max muttered. “What a little dick. Eli should have punched him right in the face.”
“Now you’re sounding like Steve,” you sighed, shaking your head. You picked up a napkin, pulling at the edges in an attempt to keep herself calm. “I don’t want my son to hit people. I want him to learn how to use his words to stand up for himself. We have a plan. He’s going to try it and if that doesn’t work then I’ll go up to the school myself.”
“Steve? Steve, who lost a fight against Billy Hargrove in high school wants to show someone else how to fight?” snorted Robin.
“Billy Hargrove?”
Max sighed deeply with a roll of her eyes, “My step-brother who was a complete ass in high school. He didn’t like that I was hanging around Lucas. I was…having a hard time. My parents had split and then my mom moved me from California to here. It was nothing like what I knew. Some small boring town in the middle of nowhere without a real beach. And she’d moved me away from my dad. I snuck out one night to see Lucas and my mom was worried. My step-dad, who was a total dick, sent Billy to find me. He wound up at Mike’s house where we were all hanging and Steve was there with Nancy. Billy grabbed Lucas by the shirt and slammed him against the wall and Steve tried to protect him. Unfortunately he got his ass beat instead. Billy wasn’t really the kind of guy you wanted to mess with. He could be scary.”
“He attacked a kid?” you questioned. You didn’t want to offend Max by insulting her brother but what kind of jerk attacked a child who was probably less than half their size?
“Yeah. He was angry…really angry. All the time. He hated moving from California, too, and he blamed my mom for it. He couldn’t take it out on her because Neil would have kicked his ass so he took it out on me instead.”
“Damn. That’s still no reason to hurt a kid.”
“Well, there was a lot of other shit too. His dad was mean. He hurt Billy a lot. He used to beat up Billy’s mom and one day she couldn’t take it anymore and she left but she didn’t take him with her. He always felt like she’d abandoned him because then Neil had no one else to loose his fury on. Billy became his punching bag. He wasn’t allowed to show any kind of emotion because that’s not what boys did.”
This guy sounded awful. No wonder his son had grown into such a jerk. You weren't excusing his behavior but when that was all he’d known…it painted a little different picture. Still, people had choices in life and regardless of how you were raised, you could either choose to break the cycle or continue it.
“Is he still like that?”
“No,” Max answered with a smile. “Actually, you wouldn’t even recognize him if you’d known him back then. Our parents split. Not surprising given that their relationship was toxic as hell. I was relieved to have Neil out of the house but my mom had a really hard time for a while. She had to work two jobs just to keep us afloat and we had to move into this run-down trailer. It got really bad for a while but I kept telling myself it would get better. Billy and Neil had moved away. I didn’t know where. Then one day, out of nowhere, Billy showed up on our doorstep.”
“Yeah, Lucas told me he almost pissed himself when he opened the door and saw him,” El chuckled.
Max snorted, “Yeah. Well, Billy hadn’t exactly left the best impression. Anyway, the minute he’d turned eighteen he took off. He didn’t know where else to go. So even though he’d blamed us for all of his problems, there he was. My mom took him in. He got a job as a bartender and helped out with rent and groceries. I finally convinced him to go talk to someone, a shrink, you know? I had been talking to the school counselor and at first I hated it. I shut down. I refused to tell her anything but finally I opened up and it did me a lot of good. I thought it would do him good too.”
“Did it help?” you inquired, suddenly feeling invested in this guy you didn’t even know.
“Yeah. It did,” she answered proudly, nodding. “He’s married now. The girl he’s with, Val, she’s amazing. She’s really good for him. They have three kids and live back in California. We talk on the phone every week and he seems really happy. If you would have told me back then that one day I would be proud to say Billy Hargrove is my brother I would have told you that you were insane. I hated him. I wanted nothing more than for him to go away but I think we both were just so broken we couldn’t see how hurt each other was. If we would have turned to each other instead of pushing each other away maybe things would have been different back then. But he’s turned out to be a good person in spite of how he was raised.”
“Wow. That’s amazing. It takes a pretty strong person to pull themselves out of the darkness like that.”
“Steve’s still not his biggest fan,” joked Nancy.
“Well, he gave him a broken nose and a black eye,” Robin stated, instantly rising to Steve’s defense. “Can you blame him?”
“Hey ladies! What can I get for you?”
Robin’s face drained of all color, her skin resembling a sheet of paper as June appeared at their table. She wore the customary red apron and held a pad of paper in their hand. You noticed how her eyes went straight to Robin but Robin suddenly became very interested in the menu, snatching it from the table and holding it so closely you’d think she’d forgotten her glasses even though she didn’t wear any.
“Hey June!” you greeted brightly. “Can I have the chicken salad and an iced hazelnut coffee?”
“Chicken salad, huh? I was sure you were going for the turkey pesto.”
You shrugged, “I figured I would switch it up. The fact is every sandwich you make is delicious. Don’t you think, Robin?”
“Huh?” Robin mumbled, her eyes as wide as saucers as she peered at you over the top of the menu. “Oh. Yeah. I mean you’re delicious.” She squeaked, the color rapidly returning to her cheeks in a blaze of brilliant red. “I mean, you make delicious things. Coffee…food…sandwiches. Yeah. So good.”
June’s lips pressed together, concealing a smile that you knew was there. Yeah, she definitely thought Robin was cute. Now you all just had to get Robin to be brave enough to make a move. Or somehow get June to do it.
“Thanks Robin. My sandwiches are pretty good.” She grinned, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Of course, I have been told that I’m a pretty nice snack too.”
Oh damn. Maybe you guys wouldn’t need to intervene in any way. Robin gasped, her shoulders drooping forward as if she thought she could disappear. Make herself as small as possible so June wouldn’t be able to see her anymore.
“Robin loves snacks,” Max said with a mischievous grin.
Nancy nodded, “Yes she does. You know where they have great snacks? The movie theater. Who doesn’t love that delicious buttered popcorn? Or a pack of M&Ms. And I hear Slums of Beverly Hills is playing this weekend. You wanted to see that movie, didn’t you Robin?”
Robin nodded, the move barely perceptible, holding the menu so tightly you were surprised it didn’t tear in half.
“Yeah. It’s too bad we’re all busy this weekend,” El sighed. “We wouldn’t want you to miss out.” Whipping around in her chair, she smiled up at June. “June, would you happen to be free this weekend? Say…oh, I don’t know. Tomorrow night around seven?”
Her lips curved up on one side, the pen in her hand tapping against her chin. “Actually, I am.”
“Huh. How convenient,” Max gasped, reaching into her pocket. “And would you look at that? We’ve got tickets and everything.” She slid one across the table to June as Robin sat as still as a statue. “Why don’t you meet Robin in front of the movie theater?”
“Yeah. Definitely!” June bounced on her heels, looking down at Robin. “I mean, if you want me to come with you.”
Robin jumped, her eyes finally looking up at the raven haired beauty who was waiting anxiously for her answer. You nudged her with your toe under the table and she finally opened her mouth but no sound came out. She resorted to nodding.
“Is that a yes?” urged June.
“Yes!” Robin shrieked, causing all of them to jump. The poor girl winced, her fingers curling into a fist. “I mean, yes. That would be okay. No. I mean, that would be great. I would love…I mean, I would really like it if you came with me.”
“Okay. Great!” June took the rest of their orders, unable to keep the smile off her face, stretching from one end to the other. It was so damn adorable that you could scream. Robin had no reason to be nervous. This girl was definitely into her. She’d just been waiting for Robin to show the same interest. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She winked at Robin before she walked away and the girl melted down in her chair, almost dribbling off of it and onto the floor as the tension dissipated from her body.
“You did it! You finally did it!” Nancy squealed, grabbing her arm excitedly.
“I didn’t do anything!” she protested, glaring over at Max. “You all did this. You conniving little sneaks! You even bought tickets already? What if she’d said no?”
Max shrugged, “She wasn’t going to. But even if she did then I would have gone with you, you dork.”
“I thought you were all busy,” accused Robin, glaring at each of them in turn.
“Of course we’re not,” El laughed. “But we knew you’d never have the guts to actually say something to her. So, we came up with a plan to help you.”
“I didn’t need help.” Robin’s arms folded stubbornly like a child.
You laughed, ‘Oh girl, I hate to tell you but you absolutely needed help.”
“I hate all of you. Well, maybe not you." She pointed to you and then her eyes narrowed. "Unless you were in on it too.”
You held your hands up in front of you, “I knew nothing about any of this but I do approve of it.”
“And you don’t hate us,” Max grinned, placing her head on Robin’s shoulder. “You love us and you’ll love us even more when all of this goes well and you’re all in love and gross like the rest of us.”
Your stomach clenched at that word and you quickly looked down at your silverware, toying with the spoon. You couldn’t allow any of them a chance to see what was turning you inside out written all over your face.
“That remains to be seen. I still have to make it through this date. How am I supposed to talk to her without all of you? I barely managed a complete sentence with you all here.”
“You can do this,” El said, placing her hand over her friend’s. “I have faith in you. Just be yourself.”
“Myself!? Are you kidding me? Have you met me?”
“Yes,” Nancy stated, “we have and we all love you. June will too. Just try to relax. You get in your head and think you have to impress but all you do is freak yourself out and act all weird. Just let her see you because she is going to love you. I know it.”
“And if she doesn’t, I can always have Billy come talk to her. It worked with Lucas when he was being a turd,” Max joked and they all laughed.
“You have a date!” you cried with a smile.
“I have a date!” Robin agreed, looking far less enthused than the rest of them. In fact, the poor girl looked downright terrified.
Chapter 15
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problems downstairs | jjk (m.)
pairing: jungkook x f!reader
rating: 18+ (minors dni)
genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, smut; oral sex (m. receiving), dirty talk, light fondling, cursing obvi, i think that's it? oh and UNEDITED AS FUCK
word count: 2.1k
note: i need to learn how to write smut again, it's been too long and i am so friggin' rusty i apologize for this fr 😳 anyway. defiling the tongue tied bitches !!
‘tongue tied’ masterpost ; taglist
— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
When Jungkook slips under your shirt to innocently rub circles into your bare skin, he realizes his fatal mistake.
You instantly guide his hand to your chest and use it to fondle one of your breasts, like you’ve been waiting for it this whole time. His brain almost short circuits at the feeling of your tit in his palm, braless, soft and supple and he can’t help but give it another squeeze.
You moan against his mouth and though the sound is muffled, it sends blood rushing straight to his dick – the one that’s growing harder with every swivel of your hips on top of him, with every vibration that your whimpers cause against his lips, and with every second passing by that he has his fingers on your bare chest.
“Wait!” Jungkook abruptly pulls away and grips your hips to stop you from grinding against him. “I just remembered something! Hobi asked me to, um, pick him up from the airport tomorrow.”
You stare at him, frustration immediately creeping up your spine. “And?”
“So you know...” He shrugs sheepishly, hands resuming their soothing rubbing on your body – through your shirt this time – as if he can sense your mood starting to turn sour. “I have to get up early.”
You look at him blankly, your lips pursed into a hard line like the deadpan emoji. “You’re so full of shit.”
“W–what?”
“Hobi told me he’s extending his trip for another two days.”
He freezes underneath you and visibly pales. His eyes widen comically like Bambi caught in headlights, lips parting and closing as he thinks of what to say after you just called him out on his lie. You’d be lying if you said this wasn’t kinda cute – you think nearly everything he does is cute, but it’s also highly annoying when you’re trying to be upset with him.
“Why would Hobi tell you–”
“Why does that matter?” you huff as you climb off him, plopping onto the cushions and frowning. “Okay, I gotta ask. Do you not want me or something?”
“What? I– Why would you say that?”
It’s not like you’re forcing him to want to sleep with you; it’s only been a few weeks after all. Maybe he’s the kind of person that doesn’t take sex lightly.
No, that can’t be it. You’ve heard his one-off conquests through the walls before.
But even prior to your official first date, whenever you used to make out as a couple of neighbors who enjoyed each other’s company, he never made you feel like you weren’t wanted. Well, physically anyway.
Lately, you’ve been confused as hell by his behavior. He’d still be eager to make out with you, but the second that you hint at wanting to take it a step further, he’d come up with a dumbass excuse to get out of it. You aren’t exactly desperate for some action, but you also kinda are. It’s been a while and Jungkook has been making you very frustrated, sexually and otherwise.
Just like tonight, he was quick to shut it down when things became heated though you were certain you didn’t imagine feeling his hard-on. The boner is right there. His sweatpants aren’t doing a great job at hiding anything.
“Every time it looks like we’re about to actually do something, you find a way to dip.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you silently grimace in embarrassment. “If you don’t want to have sex with me, you can just say it.”
He jumps immediately, his brows furrowing at your words. “No, no! That’s definitely not it. I– Fuck. Fuck… I can’t tell you this.”
You huff out a breath, because this is not reassuring at all. When you make a move to stand up, he pulls you back down by your wrist with a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset. I want you, of course I want you. I’m sorry if I haven’t made it clear enough,” Jungkook says earnestly, tugging you closer and maneuvering until your legs are thrown over his lap.
Your embarrassment dissipates by a fraction. “Then why does it feel like you keep pushing me away?” you ask. The conversation is happening anyway. You might as well get to the bottom of it.
But then a thought pops into your mind and you have to gasp.
Is it…? Could it be?
No.
But maybe…?
“Do you have… problems?”
Jungkook frowns, looking you over. “What problems?”
“You know…” You glance at his crotch before your eyes flit up to his face. “Problems… downstairs. The kind that needs, uh, medical assistance.”
He tilts his head, the furrow between his brows deepening. You watch the cogs in his mind turn until they click into place. The flabbergasted look on his face when he realizes what you’re talking about prompts an unintentional cackle from you. It almost makes you forget the whole conversation at hand.
“Why the fuck would you think that?” Jungkook screeches and shudders in embarrassment, darling Bambi eyes blown out of proportion again. “I do not have any issue in that department!”
It takes a minute for you to stop laughing, especially since his face has turned so red, you could probably see steam rising from the top of his head.
I certainly wouldn’t know that, you think but don’t say it out loud. Instead, you ask him, “Then why?”
He looks at you and fumbles with his fingers, then scratches his neck, clears his throat a few times and so on, all things he does when he’s nervous.
“If we have sex,” Jungkook starts slowly, shying his face away to preserve what little dignity he has left, “I like you so much I feel like I’m gonna bust a nut ten seconds in and you’ll think I’m a dweeb.”
It’s silent for a moment. He thinks you might’ve not heard him because there’s no way you would stay quiet after that confession. When he slowly turns around and your eyes meet, you start laughing again. Way to humble him.
“Jungkook.” You clutch his arm as you fall forward to rest on his shoulder, your body shaking with giggles as tears fill your eyes. Oh good, it’s so funny that you’re actually crying now.
“I knew this was gonna happen,” Jungkook mutters to himself but you catch it. You don’t mean to laugh at him, not really, but he’s just so goddamn cute sitting there with his pouty lips and reddened cheeks, admitting that the reason he’s been cockblocking you is because he’s too excited. This is definitely a first for you.
“Jungkook,” you say again with a smile once you’ve regained your breath, “You keep forgetting that I like you too. We’re literally dating! I don’t care if you don’t last long the first time.”
He glances at you. “Really?”
“Yes, dweebus,” you say with a teasing smile. “As long as you don’t make it a habit. I mean… we could probably get that first load out of the way right now.”
“What?”
“Well…” You gesture to the bulge in his sweats. “He looks like he wants some attention.”
Jungkook shakes his head a little, like a cartoon bunny, as if to reorient himself. God, he’s acting like this is the first time he’s getting a blowjob. “Now? Right here? On the couch?”
You bite your lip, placing a hand on his thigh. “Why not?”
Despite the embarrassment and the way he feels like a teenage boy again, his dick grows even harder at the look on your face. With your bottom lip between your teeth and your eyes gazing into his, he’s surprised that he hasn’t busted a nut yet.
“Fuck, okay,” Jungkook says. You peck his lips, getting up from the couch only to kneel down on his carpet, positioning yourself between his legs while you wait for his next move.
He lets out a nervous breath as he shimmies his sweatpants and boxers down to free his length and fuck, his cock is a glorious sight, and it definitely isn’t because you haven’t seen one in a while.
You take him in your hand, pumping slowly as he groans and throws his head back. “If I cum in two seconds, you’ve been warned,” he tells you.
You chuckle with a roll of your eyes. “Okay.”
You lick a fat stripe up the entire length of him and when you reach his tip, you give it a little kiss. “You have such a pretty cock, bun,” you purr, looking up at him through your lashes.
“Fucking hell…” Jungkook sighs breathlessly when you start taking him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his tip and your tongue swiping across it to lap up his precum. There’s a faint sweetness to it that you didn’t expect, it tastes almost artificial – probably it’s because of how much sugar he consumes on a daily basis – and it makes you moan around him, the sound sending light vibrations through his dick and prompting more groans from the man.
As you continue to bob up and down his cock, taking as much of him as you can, your hand pumps the part that can’t fit in your mouth. You welcome the feeling of him stretching your lips and the pleasant taste of him on your tongue.
“You’re so fucking good…” His hand falls to your head and tangles in your hair, helping you glide over his length more smoothly but mostly he does it to keep from thrusting into your throat.
Your name escapes his mouth in a beautiful moan – deep and needy. You can feel yourself getting soaked already just by listening to bim. It’s exciting to say the least.
“Ah, ah, fuck–” Jungkook’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head when you hollow out your cheeks and begin to suck him faster. “I’ll cum if you keep going like that.”
Isn’t that the goal here? Silly bun.
His fingers tug on your scalp in a warning when you don’t seem to be stopping any time soon, warm mouth still moving in a relentless pace that turns his brain to mush. You only raise your hand to give him a thumbs up to encourage his orgasm.
Soon enough, he’s chanting your name like a broken mantra, face twisted in pleasure as he shoots his hot cum down your throat in thick ropes. It’s saltier now but still sweet, and still very much him – you could get used to this.
You continue your ministrations even after he’s finished blowing his load – only pulling away momentarily to swallow and grin at him but still pumping him in your fist, before diving back in to take his tip into your mouth again – and his hand has loosened its grip on your hair, heavy breaths slowly become more even and turn into soft whines from the sensitivity.
Before you pull away, you press one last kiss to the side of his dick. “Come here,” Jungkook beckons and you comply, an innocent smile on your lips as if you hadn’t just made him see stars with the force of his orgasm.
“Well, that was longer than I expected,” you chuckle.
“You’re a little minx, you know that?”
Your eyes crinkle and your tongue sticks out to tease him, prompting him to lean forward with a kiss to wipe that smug look off your face. When his tongue dips inside your mouth, he can taste himself faintly. Oddly enough, it makes his cock stir to life again. His arm around you trails down to your ass, where he gives you a squeeze, and slips under the waistband of your shorts to toy with your panties.
He’s a lot more brazen now, you note.
“Wanna return the favor,” Jungkook says, eyeing you with his darkened orbs. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and he looks so handsome, so much more relaxed and confident than before that you have to clench your thighs together to relieve some pressure.
You wouldn’t think that this is the same Jungkook who was tongue tied and twisted not even half an hour ago.
You brush your lips against his, but not yet kissing him again. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”
Something switches in him.
Jungkook gives your ass a little pinch and stands, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, forcing a yelp out of you as you hold onto his back for support. When you see the muscles in his bare ass flexing with every step, you can’t help but reach down and give his cheeks a little squeeze, giggling as you do.
Oh, you have a feeling you’re in for a long night.
all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 20.11.2022]
#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook scenarios#jungkook imagines#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts smut#bts fic#bts scenarios#bts imagines#btshoneyhive#btswritingcafe#bangtanbathhouse#btscarnivalnet#btsdreamcourt#52hertz#clubzerooclock#fic: tongue tied
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I haaaasss 27 asks :}
Yes. Yes it does.
Thank you! :DD And yeah canon Gregory is just not my vibe man XD
(Traffic cone in question)
Thank you so much! :DD And yeah I try my best to get up and do something productive/different when I'm feeling down like that. My thought process is "well sitting here and sulking isn't making me feel any better so I should go and do something else" Which just so happened to be breaking out the old sewing kit and making a traffic cone?? XD Well to be fair I've made like 10 of those before but still an odd choice on my part-
Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked my cars artwork! :DD
And yeah I would draw cars stuff more often but they're just so hard to draw :(
Idk why they decided to jump into a DLC before fixing the base game, but man I really wish they wouldn't have. 😔
I'll do my best! :D
@tallchest13-blog
Yes :} or at least I've been trying to-
Thank you so much! And I did use a pattern to make him. Credit for the patten goes to Tammy Hallam, heres her video on how to make your own too! :}
@montygatorshusband
AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD
As for Glamrock Bonnie,, ehh, its a bit odd to me. Not a huge fan of the color pallet but its not the worst I've seen. I'd give it a 5.5 outa 10
ALSO! I believe Octonauts is streaming on Netflix, but I've also had some luck finding full episodes on YouTube :0
Thank you! And oh yeah, I feel you on the fandom part. XD That's why I'm still kind'a on the fence and haven't dove head first into my usual angsty stuff. I'm kind'a testing the waters with every post I make to see if I'll collide with the uh, other side of the fandom :x
Thank you! :DDD
Also Google is a search engine. :0 If you search for Octonauts fanart, its gonna do its job and search for fanart and likely find some of the stuff I made. Notice though that all of my artwork shown on Google links directly back to my blog. Its because Google isn't stealing it, its parting the branches of a bush and pointing "Look! Over there is some Octonauts fanart like you requested!" XD
@pinkbomb08
There isn't really anything Gregory can do for Bonnie..
Its hard to explain,, but I'll try. Bonnie is missing his leg from the middle of his shin down. So he cant stand up right like Foxy because- well duh, he's missing a whole foot.
So order to fix Bonnies leg so he can stand/walk like Foxy does, he would need an entire replacement foot with a working joint. This would also mean that the wires in Bonnies legs would have to be replaced and hooked up so that he can control said new foot.
Currently there are no spare parts around that fit Bonnies model.. and even if they did, Gregory wouldn't know how to properly re-wire an animatronic foot. He's smart but not THAT smart <XDD
The only thing Gregory could do is make Bonnie a weird peg leg that makes his current leg longer. Currently Bonnies half leg is shorter than his good leg. But in all honesty Bonnie doesn't really want that.
Having Gregory ducttape this weird goofy peg leg to him would be more embarrassing then what he already has. He'd probably want to salvage what ever dignity he has left and say "ah give it a rest. There's no point. My legs good enough for what its for." <:/
@taizarack
If I remember correctly... Sometime ago my tablet pen broke. And it took like 2-3 weeks for a new one to arrive. In the mean time I tried to make an art doll of sorts. That doll was Bibi!
I ended up making a lot of goofy posts with Bibi and I as I waited for my pen to arrive. Once it finally did and I went back to drawing comics, I ended making Bibi a reoccurring character. And he's been around ever since!
Now Jangles is a Halloween prop that I bought because I thought it was funny. I was practicing making quilts one time and I made a small blue one that just so happened to be the right size for him. So I put it on and then I thiiink I got the idea to add Jangles to my blog as a joke.? I gave Bibi a "new friend" to celebrate hitting 10,000 followers. The new friend was a cropped png of jangles XD
Eventually down the line I wanted to give Bibi an proper friend. So for Bibi's birthday I drew a comic where Jangles came to life and here we are XD
@pinkbomb08
Currently I am getting none of those things :x I have a cold so sleep and food is hard :( Thank you though! :D
@notsoliyah
:D AW!! Thank you! I'm so glad to hear how I've inspired you! :}}
@ur0neand0nly
XD Thank you so much! And don't worry, I'm pretty confident I'll draw him again someday
XD Thank you. To be honest I'm kind'a going back and fourth on this fandom. I don't really wanna be apart of the fandom, but the characters are the only thing I'm interested in drawing atm soo-
@ardent-38
Ooo these are interesting! Although absorbing power ups isn't about digesting them. Its something about being human specifically that allows them to absorb the powerups.. 👀👀👀
@maddiethehatter2192
My advice would be to use references religiously. That's what I did!
Also thank you! :DD
Barnaby for sure.
Well, my interpretation of him really-
@taizarack (Post in question)
@funky-frankie
No there's no SpongeBob comic, I just felt like drawing Mr. Krabs XD
Also THANK YOU!! :DD That means so much!! :}}}
@elegysonnet
<XD thank you. So far I have some pretty basic ones I imagine. Wally's house is alive and evil, Julie is actually a scary monster but has drastically altered her appearance to look less scary.. Sally is very celestial in nature because she's a real star, Eddie used to be a real human and bleeds and has a heart beat and what not.. uuuuuuh what elseeee,,, I liked to imagine that Sally and Julie came to the neighborhood when they were really young and Poppy kind'a adopted them?? Although I don't know how wide spread that idea is XD
Thank you! And yeah I'm not very fond of that portrayal either <XD As for your questions..
1: I'm sure there would be somethings that would push his anxiety to the surface. I'm not sure what they'd be but still- I imagine if Luigi was around to see it he would try to get Mario out of what ever situation he's in. If he's in a crowd he'd try to help him slip away unnoticed.
2: I'm not familiar with the giga bell, but if I did add it I'd imagine those would be the side effects yeah <XD Really sore and tired and cant really move for like 3 days :x
Remodeled or not, I wont be adding any of those animatronics to the Pizzaplex. I already wrote the entire past of this timeline, and those bots all already have a story in my AU. And with their given stories it wouldn't make sense for them to be added to the Pizzaplex.
Of course I cant spoil what those stories are, just know that I have my reasons-
Oh yeah I forgot to add the colored eye lids to Wally and Barnaby in that trampoline drawing <XD
And yeah! I wanted Wally to be much more expressive so I gave him eyebrows-
@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson
Aw, thank you so much!! Its so cool to hear that you've shared my name with your friends!! :DD
#my response#fnaf security breach dlc spoilers#fnaf security breach dlc#fnaf security breach#ocotnauts#bibi and jangles
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Can you write a story where Ballister somehow gets Nimona’s animal shapeshifting powers and Nimona has to train him on how to properly change forms?
Hi hi!! Great asks, here you go!
I hope you don't mind a bit of canon-divergence, I was inspired to include a bit of Comic Nimona's backstory (although this drabble takes place in the movieverse) and I would be lying if I said I wasn't inspired by @ambrosius-goldheart 's ideas about the Institute turning people into monsters!
-
Ballister darted through the streets, panting, trying to run through the day's events in his head.
He was supposed to be knighted tomorrow, and for some reason, he'd started feeling weird, and he'd turned into– it was so absurd.
He turned into a dog, a street dog, mangey and aggressive. When Ambrosius saw him outside their apartment, he'd screamed and chased him with a broom. Headlines were already running about how the controversial knight-to-be disappeared, abandoning his kingdom and his post like a coward. Some people were worried about assassination. Some people were angry at him. He had no idea what Ambrosius was thinking, or himself, for that matter. How did this happen?
Was he a monster, some sort of shape-shifter? Was he born that way? He couldn't have been! He hadn't done anything out of the ordinary, he just had that physical with the Institute doctors, they'd given him some shots– but they wouldn't have done anything to him. This kind of science didn't even exist!
Yet somehow he'd started frantically flopping from animal to animal without control, until he got stuck like this. He managed to find some old ruins to hide in. Gloreth, he couldn't speak, how would he get help, how would he switch back!?
His ears pricked and his head whipped around. A pink dog was in the room– he hadn't smelled it– since when could he smell things? He growled and flattened his ears.
Then, the dog spoke.
“Hey! I'm Nimona, it's okay, I know you're freaking out. I know you're human, you can relax.”
Ballister blinked. What? If this dog was talking, surely it was a monster, but then, wasn't he?
She continued. “I'm gonna help you shift back into a person, it's really not hard once you get the hang of it.”
Ballister yelped when the dog materialized into a teenager in a flash of pink light. “See?”
Tail between his legs, he backed up warily. What was this thing? Why was it helping him?
She crossed her arms. “Are you gonna freak out? Or are you gonna let me help you?”
He paused for a moment and sat down. He didn't really have much choice here. She made a mocking expression, “Good doggy!” Ballister grimaced.
“So, the first thing you're gonna wanna do is relax– difficult, given the situation, I know. But just take a deep breath and let all your limbs turn to jelly!” Her arms dangled in an exaggerated, unnatural way, like the bones inside disappeared. Trying not to be terrified, Ballister tried to relax his strange new body.
“Cool! So now, you need to picture what it feels like to be a human, remember what it feels like to stand on two feet, to have hands and legs and all that other crap, picture the form in your head, and now– I know I'm contradicting myself– you gotta tense up everything inside you, thinking only of the form you wanna take.”
Ballister swallowed. This he could do. He pictured it, how his hands felt, how his face felt, how his body looked, and he stiffened his shoulders.
“Keeping that image in your mind, clearly, relax all that tension at once!”
Ballister closed his eyes and exhaled, relaxing everything. When he opened his eyes, he was in his original body. He gasped. “You saved me! Thank you!”
She shrugged. “No prob. But in case you're planning on tattling to the Institute, keep in mind you're still not used to these powers. You're gonna wanna keep me around.”
“Powers?” Ballister looked down. “How did this even happen? I'm not– I'm not a monster–”
Nimona rolled her eyes. “Please. You think you're the first person the Institute wanted to disappear?”
Ballister's eyes widened. “They wouldn't.”
“They did,” Nimona hissed. “Of course, I'm the original, but about sixty years back they managed to nab some of my blood and have been using it to fuck with people ever since.”
Ballister shook his head, “There's no way– wait, SIXTY YEARS!?”
Nimona rolled her eyes. “Yes, keep up. Listen, this is only gonna keep happening. So, if you wanna learn to control your powers, and if you wanna protect the people you care about, we're gonna have to work together. Deal?”
Ballister was uneasy. He wanted to run home to Ambrosius, to tell him what happened. He wanted advice, but if he rejected this– apparently sixty year old child– he might become emotional and switch forms again. He might do it in front of someone and be banished from the realm as a monster. He didn't have a choice.
He reached out and shook her hand. “Deal.”
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☆· ( ˶•̀ ᎑ - ˶ )
♡ If You're Open For Request's May I Request For A Idia With A Siren Reader? (Can Be Gender Neutral Or Male, Whichever You Prefer)
I Could Actually Imagine An Adorable Scenario Where Reader Would Be There To Serenade Idia To Sleep When He Was On Another One Of Those Times With No Rest And Kept On Staying Up (•w•)
☆·→ Loeheart V.
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.•¨*•. ☆ .•*¨•..•¨*•. ☆ .•*¨•..•¨`•. ☆
Gender neutral reader ❀
Everyone can identify ❀
.•¨*•. ☆ .•*¨•..•¨*•. ☆ .•*¨•..•¨`•. ☆
Idia Shroud
Resting is the hardest task for Idia to complete alone. To be honest, his mind probably doesn't even know what the word "rest" means. Idia doesn't worry about it, though, as it's common to see him drinking energy drinks to stay awake when he's excited about a new game event or when he's still finishing one of his projects.
Idia never thought he needed someone to alert him about these things, mainly because he wouldn't care to follow the advice. But now, I find myself in the position of revealing to you that your boyfriend Idia has pretended to be asleep to trick Ortho. As soon as his younger brother left the room, Idia jumped out of bed and went back to what he was doing. He felt like a mastermind, having finished what he wanted and avoiding concerns about himself.
However, things have changed now. When I say things have changed, it's because he's been dating you for a while. At first, he didn't know much about sirens, and the little he knew came from comics, manga, or games. Meeting you made him discover many things, and Idia believes that you use some kind of spell on him because he accepts without complaints when you call him to sleep or take a break from his work.
Idia likes to put his plans into action, so he's always busy finishing or adding updates.
He will never call or remember to rest if you're not there to pull him into bed.
Idia likes to lay with his head on your chest for many reasons, whether it's because of the beating of your heart or because he feels closer to your melodies that way.
Little Spoon is that what it's called?
Idia is fascinated by your voice and sometimes mentions some songs for you to sing to him.
Most of the time, he reacts like the first time, quite embarrassed until he finally gets used to the feeling of having your attention and being in your arms.
He keeps it a secret, but he LOVES it when you care enough to hug him and patiently sing until he falls asleep.
At first, they were just small requests, but now there are touches, lovingly holding his hand and encouraging him to stop whatever he's doing to have a moment together where he forgets everything he was working on to snuggle up in bed.
Before Idia got used to this, you would say goodnight through messages and rest in your own room alone, but time passed until both of you got used to resting together, unconsciously making it a routine where trust led to the big step of sleeping in the same bed.
In the room, only your voice is present, following a calm rhythm, embraced where one of your hands lovingly combs the hair of the shy boy who now has a lighter breath, giving the understanding that he has already fallen asleep.
You look down a little to check your boyfriend's face, indeed he is comfortably sleeping on you, your voice hums until you fall asleep.
One incident involving Idia and you at the beginning of this habit in the relationship
Do you remember when I mentioned that he tricked Ortho by pretending to be asleep?
When you two didn't sleep in the same bed yet, he did it once to you in the beginning of the relationship, but he didn't expect you to come back because you forgot your phone on the nightstand. So, imagine the scene;
Idia completely in shock, hands still on what he was going to keep doing, looking at the door where you were also frozen, wondering why on earth he was standing there until reality hit hard.
ー You tried to trick me? ーYou look suspicious while Idia sweats cold because it wasn't part of the plan and he can't even come up with an explanation.
ー I... Um... I... I mean...
And then, for the first time, he saw your deadly look. Since then, he promised himself never to pretend again, as well as avoiding making you angry altogether. The poor boy was very scared
:(.
.•¨*•. ☆ .•*¨•..•¨*•. ☆ .•*¨•..•¨`•. ☆
Open request
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.•¨*•. ☆ .•*¨•..•¨*•. ☆ .•*¨•..•¨`•. ☆
Cat's Note:
You can't imagine how my heart jumped when I saw a request. English is not my native language, so I was confused about whether I understood everything correctly.
I researched a bit about siren mythology, but there aren't many details. If I made any mistakes, please let me know and I'll make another one, okay?
#twisted wonderland#twst x male reader#twst headcanons#twst imagines#twst#twst scenarios#twst x reader#idia shroud#idia x mc#idia x reader#idia x you#twst idia#twisted wonderland idia#idia fluff
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Just A Scratch- Part 1
A dramatic angsty Hannix prompt:
Warnings: Phoenix is put into an uncomfortable and unwanted position at the bar so please be wary if anything like that sounds triggering to you.
It all happens so quickly. One minute Phoenix is heading over to Penny to get a round of drinks at the bar and the next second she is being pushed up against the panel-sided wall by a drunk man who's hands find the swell of her ass like they have a homing beacon. Before she can even react he is there, in her space and getting closer, face showcasing a smugness in the way he leers confidently down at her. She's been hit on before of course, and usually reacts better, but something about it happening at the Hard Deck of all places, an establishment that has become like a second home for all the Daggers, puts Natasha in such shock that she can only stare back at the man unmoving.
"Well aren’t you a sight” the man speaks; his breath hot on her ear as he somehow seems to come even closer into her personal space. Natasha can’t contain her shiver, her unease palpable as her mind screams at her to push him off and get out of there and yet her body stays put. It’s not like she’s drunk; Phoenix was the last of the Daggers to arrive and hadn’t even managed to get a drink yet but somehow she is as frozen as a deer in headlights as this stranger gives her ass another squeeze with a grin.
Her lack of fight emboldens the drunken man. Perhaps he is mistaking it for her being interested although from the way he has her virtually trapped against the far wall of the bar, Natasha has a feeling he is the type of predator that enjoys making his prey feel ensnared. She raises a hand and tries to push back, finding enough of herself to recognize she needs out of this situation immediately, but the man bats her attempts at escape away with a chuckle. “If you want to get handsy baby, I suggest we go some place a little more private.”
“Let me go” it’s the first Natasha has spoken and she would be embarrassed by the lack of power in her voice if she wasn’t so freaked out by the whole situation. The man shakes his head with a condescending look, almost as though he finds the female aviator adorable. “Oh sweetie, don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya-“
“I said-“ her voice raises as she pushes against the man’s chest again to try and find a path to escape, “let me go.”
“But we are having so much fun” one more squeeze to her butt and then the man is moving to cradle her face, framing the stands of hair that fall over her face. Natasha opted to wear civilian clothes with her hair down today, a decision she regrets as the man in front of her continues to show her no respect. She knows this sort of thing wouldn’t happen if she was in uniform, remembering all the times she’s been called a frigid stick up the ass when she told men no in her khakis. Channeling that power, that strength that she possess when she wears her Lieutenant bars and soon to be Lieutenant Commander if Maverick is right about the ceremony at the end of the month, Natasha gives another push, harder to the point the man actually stumbles a step. He isn’t deterred, merely smiling as he shifts a lock of her hair behind her ear and dares to kiss the spot of skin he removed it from. “Beautiful and a little feisty, my favorite combination-“
“Then you’ll love me” a voice announces and it would be comical how fast the drunk man’s head snaps up at the sound if the whole circumstances wasn’t so scary. Phoenix turns as well, finally feeling a moment of calm as she notices Hangman of all people have come over, his eyes assessing the situation quickly and picking up on her unease. He’s wearing his khakis’ as usual, one of the few Daggers to still dress in regulation despite being on their mandated month of leave. The military Ken doll look works on him though, usually combined with his infuriating smirk and winking sea green eyes. That’s not who stands in front of Phoenix right now though, the flirty and playful Jake gone, replaced with the stone cold killer that Nat only sees on missions. Tonight, Hangman looks livid, lips thin and eyes narrowed as he stares at the man holding Natasha hostage with a glare that would make smarter men run for the hills. The drunk doesn’t seem fazed though, or perhaps he has a death wish, because instead of backing off the man just scoffs Seresin’s way, “Find your own bitch” he warns, sparing Jake no more as he pushes back into Natasha’s body, a bulge in his pants hitting her hip and making this state of affairs a hell of a lot more real.
The pressure only last a second before the drunken man is ripped away from Phoenix and sent careening to the ground the other way. Before the female aviator can even process what is happening, Jake is in front of her, the expression on his face concerned though his eyes still look murderous. “Are you alright?” he asks immediately, his gaze scanning her for injuries while his hands hover without touching. Natasha knows she owes Jake some kind of thank you for saving her but something about Hangman being the one to see her so vulnerable and scared makes Phoenix raise her defenses, the defenses she should have had up from the beginning so she could have fought off the strange man herself. With embarrassment crippling her, she tries to roll her eyes, "I didn't need your help" she comments quickly, hurrying to hide the fluster off her face from the speed of the assault she just endured.
Jake barely blinks at her attitude, eyes still staring, still assessing, "But are you o-“ he’s cut off when suddenly a bottle breaks over his head, sending Hangman stumbling down to one knee from the force of the blow as glass rains all around them. Nat looks up to see her predator coming back, the other half of the broken bottle in his shaking hands, “you’re mine” he states, anger now in his tone from this delay in his conquest. He moves to take another step, but Hangman is up to the task, lunging up and tackling the man away from Phoenix once more.
The altercation has gained the whole bars attention at this point. The music of the piano cut away as everything descends into chaos. Natasha can see Jake land a punch before he is flipped over and lost in the movement of bodies converging on the two fighting men.
Phoenix is yanked immediately away from the wall and the fighting by Payback, who as the tallest of the group is able to spot her quickly as the other Daggers join the fight to back up Seresin. He deposits her over to Halo and Bob, a move that normally would anger Natasha for being ‘handled’ but she is still so shocked by the turn of events that she allows her friends to all but cocoon her in their safety. Pulled over to the side and out of the scuffle, Phoenix is able to watch as the men of her squadron rip the drunken man away from their teammate and throw him towards a corner booth. The man is bleeding from his nose and a split lip, and yet still he tries to fight his way away. Luckily the Daggers seem too formidable for him to overcome and they manage to box him in to the cushion, an image so similar to what the man did to her that Phoenix has to look away. She hears vaguely as Penny yells the police are on their way but Natasha’s attention soon becomes fixated on her savior. Jake is getting clear of the melee, Javy helping him over to a barstool, as blood covers the left side of his head and continues to trickle. Before she even thinks about it, Nat is moving, startling Bob and Callie with how quickly she is heading towards the bar top.
Just as she arrives Rooster is coming over too, handing Jake a towel to hold pressure as Javy runs to get ice. She watches Jake wince the minute the fabric hits his cut, the white of the cotton turning red quickly like it’s already done Seresin’s hair and skin. Natasha isn’t squeamish but the image is more than off-putting especially because it is her fault that the man is hurt anyway. Jake rubs his other hand along his jaw, showcasing the beginning of a bruise no doubt from a punch in the brawl.
Beside the injured aviator, Rooster lets out a long breath, “Penny is asking for an ambulance, just sit tight man-“
“Not needed” Jake moves to shake his head, and then as though thinking better of it, refrains. “I’m fine” though the way he teeters even while seated negates his entire argument. Bradshaw opens his mouth to argue but Nat beats him to it.
“Jake-“ Phoenix manages, because calling him Bagman right now feels wrong, “Oh god Jake-“ before she can say more, both men turn to look at her, wearing identical looks of concerns.
“Nat you alright?” Bradley asks at the same moment that Jake tries to stand and ask the same thing. Rooster pushes him back towards the barstool with barely any pressure, before turning to the female pilot again, “did he hurt you?” the mustached man asks.
“No, I’m fine. But, Jake he- God, I’m so sorry-“
“None of this is your fault Phoenix” Hangman answers, earning a look of approval from Bradley for not allowing Natasha to even try to feel any guilt for the night’s events.
“But- but your head-“
“A cheap shot, it’s nothing” though they can all see the wince when Jake tries to move the towel off. Bradley stands closer, looking over the top of Jake’s head, and giving a long whistle, “I think you’re going to need stitches Seresin” he shares gravely.
“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”
“A scratch that is ruining all your clothes right now” Bradley points out, emphasizing the now bloody collar of Jake’s khaki’s. It’s said with exasperation and concern, both Bradshaw and Seresin embracing the new level of friendship they had managed to reach after the success of the mission.
“Head wounds bleed a lot” the blonde reasons dismissively, “I’m good.”
“Yeah too good to be true right?”
Before Jake can reply to Bradshaw with his normal quips, Penny arrives, motherly concern on full display as she shuffles Jake towards the office where she keeps her first aid kit. Javy follows the pair, the four shots the man already had during the night making him more of a hindrance than a help, but still they manage. With Hangman gone, Natasha feels cold, not liking the man being out of her sight especially with him being so hurt because of her. As though he can read her mind, Bradley moves closer to Phoenix’s side, not touching her but providing comfort by making sure to block her from the view of her assaulter and the view of Jake’s blood on the floor.
Bob arrives with a glass of water, kind enough not to comment when Natasha’s hands shake when she grips it. Her WSO knows her better at this point than to ask her if she is okay, instead offering her a kind voice, “do you need anything?” he asks.
She shakes her head, “I’m good” she manages, naturally thinking of Jake with that choice of words and cursing herself when her lip wobbles with emotions. Bob, sensing all, places a gentle hand on her forearm “the minute he saw that man get in your space he was off” the bespectacled man supplies.
“What?”
“Hangman, I don’t think I ever seen him so worried. He didn’t even wait for Rooster or Coyote, he just barged on over to get to you.”
“Well you know how he likes to play savior” she murmurs though she hates herself for even saying those words out loud.
Bob eyes her for a moment, reading her mind like he always seems able to do, before shaking his head. “You know better than that” he speaks sadly, disappointment evident. “When I first met you all I thought you both were-“ he stops, pausing to follow Nat’s eyes that can’t seem to help but follow to the back room that Jake has left to go to. “You should talk to him. He- He’s not quite what I thought” Bob decides to share, squeezing his pilot’s arm one last time before giving her a moment.
Phoenix lets out a shaky breath. Its information she can’t process right now, not with the smells of the drunken man’s cologne and Hangman’s blood still under her nose. She wishes she could dismiss Bob’s observation as being misinterpreted but Natasha knows it’s not fair to Bob or Jake. In truth, she’s known Jake Seresin for a decade and though the man has been a thorn in her side, he’s also always been an ally. He’s pushed her harder than any other pilot or teacher ever has, and never looked down on her for being a woman like some of the other men has. In all honesty, if the turf war between him and Bradshaw hadn’t forced Natasha to pick a side, Phoenix knows Jake would be one of her closest friends, maybe even more at this point. They always had a good relationship, a give and take that kept things interesting and fun. She also isn’t blind; able to admit that Jake looks as good as he claims. Could it be that Jake feels the same way? Bob seems to imply as much, and the man’s deductions have been nothing but right since the day she met her WSO in the bar before the mission.
Natasha’s eyes turn back to the office door at the end of the hallway. The door is still closed and Nat knows that somewhere inside Jake is probably still bleeding because of her; hurting because of her. She wants to get to him, to thank him, to apologize, to hold his hand every time he wants to wince from the pain she has caused him. In the span of a few minutes Phoenix realizes that she cares for Jake Seresin, in ways that disguised itself as friendship and camaraderie but feels so much more now. She takes a few steps forward, ready to throw caution to the wind and just be there for the man, when the door flies open and a frantic Coyote runs out. His hands are red with Jake’s blood and the fear in his eyes are enough to almost stop Nat’s heart right there. “SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE” he screams, shocking the room silent, “NOW!”
And then everything descends back into chaos.
#top gun maverick#glen powell#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#top gun#top gun hangman#natasha phoenix trace#top gun: maverick#dagger squad#bradley rooster bradshaw#robert bob floyd#javy coyote machado#hangman whump#monica barbaro#bar fights#top gun whumptober#jake seresin whump#hannix drabble#hannix#Phoenix x Hangman#top gun fanfiction
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Park Chanyeol x Male Reader
<Part 1> <Part 3>
'You are such a fine specimen y/n; no wonder Duke never turned over to look at us even when we flaunted ourselves voluptuously.' 'To deny the chance of becoming a consort to the crown for this, hmm, must be some witchcraft.' 'I never really liked visiting you all because of this, you might be the heir to the throne, and you might be beautiful, but that doesn't mean anyone would just let their guards down and be with you.'
'Forgetting all the manners are we now?' 'Not really Sohee, I rank as equal as you; you and Suyung both are princesses and I am a prince, I expect nothing but respect for the orders we represent.'
Meeting the princesses was tiring; the constant remarks and counter-attacks had y/n feeling as if he had himself trapped in a pathetic tragicomedy rather than a few days hosting at a castle.
Chanyeol was often out and about leaving y/n with the princesses, and it was getting hard to control his nerves as the days went by. One night, on his routine night visit Chanyeol found y/n sitting on the bed staring at the wall with dried-up tear stains on his cheeks and the yellowish pages of the book he had opened in his lap.
'I don't remember the palace being so ghastly as to push you to the limits.' He went ahead and sat where he regularly did, on the chair beside the dressing mirror, facing the bed.
'I am tired.' 'Your royal highness, I will leave at once if you say so.' He got up and almost left when y/n whispered 'Please, don't.'
Chanyeol turns, shocked, rather bewildered, and caught off guard. This was a new tone he was hearing; he looked over y/n still in bed, looking down at his lap, still as if he was a part of the whole furniture.
Chanyeol went back and made himself comfortable; at least he tried to do so; while y/n put the book at the side table and took a sip out of the glass that had been there for some time now.
'Are you not well? You can skip the gatherings tomorrow and rest; there is no need to over-exert yourself.' 'I am tired.' Y/n repeated, in an even lower voice than before. 'The princesses and their cousins are tiring; at least I had my brother before to accompany me so they were all mostly around him. Now, I am all alone and their remarks never stop. Is this why you brought me here? To leave me all day long to suffer through comments as if I had done something wrong. I never even wanted to marry you. You could have had the heir to the throne here. Why did you do this to me? And why do you never accompany me while I am with them?'
'I...' Chanyeol was at a loss for words; he never thought that the prince would break down in front of him like this. He never really wished for it too. He got up and slowly went to the bed as if approaching a sparrow in the wild; he knelt down on the carpet, near y/n while observing the younger.
'I am sorry. I had no idea that they were going to treat you like this. I thought that since you always visited the palace you all must be good friends. I have to attend the training of the main army heads daily here that is why I am never able to be here. I am sorry. And, I married you because I liked you, I never liked the princesses, I know my ways to procure you were rash, but morality never really worked in favour of love and war did it? I am really, deeply, religiously, devoted to you; if you command me right now, I will behead the princesses, their cousins, and all those who made you cry like this and run away with you to your home and fight if they come for you.' He was already standing with his sword in his hand and that was the moment y/n realised that this man was beyond understanding.
Doing so much harm, on one command of someone, no one should be allowed to wield such powers, yet here, in the middle of the night, in an isolated wing of a palace, y/n sat looking into Chanyeol's eyes directly after weeks, feeling a rush of emotions indescribable.
'You are not a very intelligent person are you, Chanyeol?' A comic relief, his name, uttered by y/n with a smile full of twinkling eyes. Y/n realised later that he called the other by name and looked down again, 'Sit on the bed, then talk, I feel uncomfortable like this.'
Chanyeon went on and sat on the opposite side of the bed looking over y/n with determined eyes, 'I am not joking, I will do it all if you want it and if that will make you leave your gloom behind.' 'You will do no such thing. Hearing such declarations are ghastly enough for me; you should know how much I hate violence.' 'Then what should I do!? Please your royal highness tell me. I will do it, just say it.' Chanyeol was eager and looked more like a big dog waiting for command than a general of the army.
'Take me home.' Y/n whispered looking up to meet Chanyeol's eyes. 'Okay, we can leave for your kingdom right now, I will take you and your luggage can be sent later.' Chanyeol got up and before he could move y/n said 'I - I meant Sandria, not that.' Y/n was trying to avoid the bulging eyes of the general and trying to calm the heat rising in his body. 'What!?' 'I meant take me to Sandria, I miss Lady Park.'
It took a whole awkward minute of silence for y/n to repeat it 'Can we go?' 'Yes!' Chanyeol almost screamed and shocked y/n, again, more happy dog than a general.
So they left, in the night, without their luggage, just the two of them on a single horse. It took them two days and in between Chanyeol stopped at grand inns and was welcomed warmly by the owners, but what surprised y/n was how kind they all were to him, often too kind and reminding him of Lady Park.
They took one room throughout the journey as they were married so to avoid any rumours they had to take such measures, but Chanyeol never slept in the bed; he was always on the sofa, half asleep, half guarding as the threat on the prince was ever looming.
When they reached, Lady Park was not surprised; she got the letter from the palace beforehand; rather she was inquisitive as to why they cut their stay short and why did they not take the train?
'Oh I am sorry Lady Park, I was just uncomfortable at the palace and missed this place so I asked Chanyeol to bring me back, and I never really had the chance to roam the country, outside the manors and abbeys and castles, so I asked him to take the horse, also there was no train available that instant.'
'Oh y/n, please do not worry, I am rather happy that you are back; it gets lonely here without anyone to talk to except the butler and the other servants.'
Chanyeol was shocked again to hear his name from y/n's mouth utter so casually; he did not want to point it out to the other but wanted so bad to ask him to use it more. On his part, he still could not muster up the courage to use y/n's name; it feels — ironically, after doing it all wrong — it feels disrespectful.
'I will go to the room and change up, then I will meet you in the library.' With that y/n was gone.
'Why did you not insist on waiting and taking the train!?' Lady Park asked his son with a bit more hint of anger than he thought he would be facing.
'I did! But he wanted to leave instantly. I had no choice.' 'What did you do now that he left the palace like this to come back?' Before Chanyeol could answer Lady Park led him to the library and motioned him to sit as if starting an official inquiry.
'I? How can I do something in the palace that would make him run away from there? And runaway back to my house? Make it make sense mother.' He should not be acting this sassy to her but he wanted to point out the absurdity of the blame.
'Then what happened? I am sure the palace was more comfortable than here.' 'Well, do not talk to him about it please, he will tell you if he would like you to know, but I guess you are so stuck up with rituals that he would not want to portray a bad image of your future queen to you.'
'What?' 'Yes, he was crying, apparently both the princesses and their cousins always passed remarks and comments about him and other stuff, you know, stuck-up royals. He told me his brother was good at handling them but he was more sensitive to all of this so it hurt him a lot. I asked him to command anything that could be done to make him feel better, and he asked me to bring him back, so on my word, I did, also dearest mum he said he missed you.'
"I cannot believe that such behaviour is sanctioned by our King and Queen. They must be doing it as a jest but if it hurt him so much then it is unacceptable." "Well, you know how they are still pent up about me not marrying anyone of them." "It would have solved so many problems and there would have been no useless war." "Mother, you make it sound like I marrying someone for such reasons will result in a long-lasting relationship." "What about you and the prince then? He married you to end the whole show of gore bloody circus you started! Do you think he is happy here and not half as miserable as you would have been!?"
There was an uncomfortable silence, Ldy Park had such a moment after months, Chanyeol thought she was over it, but all this talk flared her up again.
"Mom, you know..." "What!? You love him!? That!? Please, I am still so ashamed that my son really went out to kidnap someone, that too a prince, at the cost of innocent lives, all the facade which you have created around this seemingly happy, working-out relationship disgusts me to the very core. I am here only for his sake, as I cannot trust you to be with him alone here, otherwise, I would have left for the dower house months ago."
Now, Lady Park was not only angry, she was in tears, all of this built up inside her while the young couple was away. She has been keeping up her smiles around the prince but after getting to know about the incident at the palace and her son's justification for not marrying any one of the princesses, she was not able to control herself.
"Enough, I will have the rest of my life to be blaming you, we mustn't make a fuss over it all when he comes down, at least he should get comfort somewhere."
P.S.:- If you liked it, you can support me by buying me a coffee; link's on my page.
#kpop x male reader#male reader#gay#gaypop#fanfiction#bottom male reader#kpop x male reader smut#exo x male reader#exo#park chanyeol x male reader#chanyeol x male reader#fragments of my mind#kpopidol#kpopgay#kpop fluff#kpop
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Tunnel Vision ~ (Konig x Fem!Reader)
Drinks and Drops ~ Part 2 of the Tunnel Vision series
Summary: You haven't run into the tall, silent König very often during your time in Taskforce 141, so when he starts showing up around every corner, you cant decide if it's for the better or worse.
(lots of fluff, no use of "y/n", slowburn, smut later on ;D)
I glance down at my phone, reading 8:07, as I stand in front of the pub. A droplet of rain falls onto my screen and I hastily wipe it on my jeans as another cold drop hits my neck. I dodge under the awning and open the door, chilly air and the smell of beer wafting over me. I almost laugh at how noticeable the group I’m joining is, from Ghost’s “more casual” mask to the tall figure sitting with its back to me… huh. I pause, as Ghost is almost always the tallest amongst our party. Clarity is delivered swiftly as the figure notices Ghost’s gaze and turns to look at me. My stomach seems to churn to a freezing halt. What I had taken to be a head hidden in shadow is actually a black mask, and suddenly the unusual height makes sense. I catch Soap’s eager eyes and force myself not to turn and leave. I make a beeline to the chair Soap has saved for me at his side, avoiding the steadfast blue eyes that follow my path. Unfortunately, my seat is sandwiched between Soap and König, though König is sitting more closely to Horangi, leaving a wide gap around the table. My stomach sinks and I think back to our last interaction, wondering if his memory of it is just as vivid.
“Optics!” Soap greets, and my stomach unfreezes slightly. “Was worried you’d bailed after all.” he grins and scoots over so I can pull out the chair and sink into it.
“You have no faith in me,” I scoff, my voice coming out more quietly than I’d intended. König’s stare makes me shrink back into my chair. As I look up, I see Ghost staring intently at me, too. I raise an eyebrow at him and his eyes narrow beneath his balaclava, which he refuses to take off, even off duty.
“You’ve given us enough reason to worry, hermit,” Ghost laughs gruffly. I purse my lips at the nickname and try very hard not to glance at König, who has been characteristically silent. “Have you met Horangi?” Ghost gestures at the man across from me, who grins and waves a little. He’s wearing his dark glasses, but his nose and mouth are exposed. I shake my head.
“We’ve never talked,” I say, and Horangi nods.
“You’re the one who keeps making me restock the earl gray tea,” he says, with a hint of a smirk. I grin back and raise my eyebrows. “What, you thought you were the only tea drinker?” He leans forward teasingly and takes a sip from his beer. I laugh and feel the ice in my limbs start to soften, still pointedly avoiding König’s eyes.
“They drink black coffee like maniacs,” I gesture to Soap, Ghost, and Roach, who all scoff in indignation. Roach mumbles something about not drinking ‘flower water’ and the table laughs.
“Oh, and this is König,” Horangi adds, and gestures to the man sitting to his left. I finally allow myself to turn my head and glance at him. His massive stature makes him look almost comical situated on the barstool. He looks only slightly different than usual, wearing a tight black t-shirt with some band Iogo I’ve never seen and too-tight khaki pants. He, too, adorned his mask over street clothes. I wonder briefly what outsiders at the bar assume of a man big enough to be a rhino with a black shirt over his head. I remember suddenly that I’m being introduced and I nod at him. He inclines his head slightly back.
“We’ve met,” he mutters, to my surprise. I nod again, unsure what to say. I look back to my right, where Ghost is still eyeing me curiously. I shoot him a ‘stop-that’ look, and turn my head back. “So, why do they call you Optics?” Horangi fills the strained silence that follows König’s words. I open my mouth to respond, but Soap beats me to it.
“She’s practically nocturnal, this one,” he snorts and nudges me hard in the side. “When we first met, we never saw her out of those night vision goggles. So, Optics.”
“I suggested ‘vampire’, but I was shot down,” Roach grumbles with a grin, drawing a laugh from around the table. I turn my head quickly to give him an offended stare.
“Tell me you’re joking,” I try not to smile, my mouth still hanging open.
“He’s not.” I can hear Ghost’s smirk through his mask and I stare around at them accusingly. “Oh, don’t look so injured, we changed it, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, you can’t complain,” Roach pointed at me sternly. “You're not the one called Roach.” he smacks the table and Horangi chuckles. The air now feels so full of laughter that I can almost forget my earlier embarrassment.
“I feel lucky now,” Horangi laughs, gesturing to himself and König.
“What does Horangi mean? Is it just a nickname?” I ask, taking a sip of the beer Soap ordered in my absence.
“It means ‘tiger’ in Korean,” he responds. “König is ‘king’, right?’ He prompts his friend, who nods in response. “I call him ‘silent but deadly’,” he adds, rousing a hearty laugh from everyone else around the table. König shoots him a harassed look, but his shoulders shake slightly as well. A smile pulls at my lips.
Halfway through my glass of beer, the awkwardness and regret of before melts, eased by Soap’s stream of banter and the cold sensation of drink spreading through me. The only thing unchanged is the anxious shiver that shoots through me when König’s eyes find mine. Though his presence no longer unnerves me, there is some thrill in his company that dries my mouth and quickens my pulse. He doesn’t glance my way often, and speaks even less, but the mere proximity is enough to daunt me. At this distance I notice how unusually long his eyelashes are, how his shirt expands with every breath, how his mask flutters when he laughs. These observations humanize him slightly, making him seem less like a mountain, and more like a man unreadable under his mask. He nearly catches my gaze once and I quickly look away to drain the rest of my glass.
In the course of the next hour, empty glasses began filling the table and König’s chair closes the gap, almost unnoticeably moving closer to my chair throughout the night. I hoped tonight gave him somewhat of a better impression, anxious to wipe away our first encounter. When my phone reads 9:48, Ghost is the first to break apart the gathering, standing after finishing his fourth drink.
“You lot keep me out too late,” he accuses, giving us all a stern look.
“Aw, Ghost,” Soap groans and lets his head fall back dramatically. “It doesn’t say anywhere that Lieutenants can’t have fun.” He tries to coax Ghost back to the table.
“I think you’ll find it does,” he responds, gruffly. “Unless you want to deal with me at 7 am after a short night?” Soap frowns, but seems to decide his Lieutenant’s logic is sound enough.
“Fine, fine,” He joins Ghost, pushing in his chair with a scrape, but sways a little. The rest of the group seem to collectively agree, however grudgingly, and begin departing. I follow my team through the front door, but stop dead at the thick wall of rain enclosing the awning. Soap, Ghost and Roach seem to find no issue with the downpour and walk straight into the storm.
“We’re running for it!” Roach calls over his shoulder, and they take off into the rain, almost immediately made invisible in the sheet of water. I stand alone for a moment, feeling rather stupid for walking from base without checking the weather beforehand. I glance down regretfully at my white tank top and curse under my breath. Should I just wait it out…?
“Am I the only one who drove?” a figure appears at my shoulder. I turn to look at Horangi, who watches the rest of my team depart with great amusement.
“The only one with sense, apparently,” I reply with a bitter grin. Horangi smiles back at me.
“See you around, Optics,” and he, too, ducks into the rain. I watch his figure grow fainter, bowing into a black car down the street. I sigh and stare fiercely at the rain like it might vanish at my glare. I nearly jump when the last member of our group joins me beneath the awning.
“Did you walk?” König asks, his low voice barely audible over the drum of raindrops. I chance a glimpse up at him. He’s looking down at me from the corner of his eye.
“Yeah,” I respond, feeling small and ridiculous standing beside him. “Stupid, huh?” He shakes his head.
“No, not if you bring an umbrella,” He responds and, like magic, produces one gripped in his closed left hand. Without elaboration, he steps out from under the shade and opens it, holding it awkwardly to his right, making space for another person beneath. I stare for a moment at the gesture, then remember to move my feet and join him beneath the umbrella. It’s smaller than I would’ve liked. My head is nearly bumping into his bicep as we begin to walk, though he seems to be treading carefully to avoid collisions. “You don’t like the rain?” he guesses quietly, stopping before we cross the street.
“Normally, I would. But… um,” I glance back up into his eyes, which appear bemused. “You know, white shirt, water…” I trail off, letting him put the pieces together. Immediately he nods with understanding and quickly looks away. I can’t tell if this is sudden shyness or merely caution before crossing the street as he peers over my head for cars. When he decides it’s safe for us to cross, he mutters something faintly and rests a large hand on the small of my back to make sure I keep pace. I hardly notice when we reach the other side for all I can feel is his warm hand pressing into me. I feel almost unsteady when he abruptly pulls away, the absence of his touch leaving the spot cold. The rest of our walk to base is silent, though it doesn’t feel quite as unpleasant as before. He glances down at me every once in a while, making sure the umbrella covers my frame, walking deliberately to accommodate my short stride.
“You’ve helped me out twice now,” I mutter as we near the front doors, feeling an obligation to say something, but at a loss for anything substantial. He looks surprised.
“It’s no problem,” he says mildly.
“Well, anyway, thank you,” I respond and crane my neck to meet his eyes.
“Any time,” he murmurs, his voice growing oddly soft. Something about walking away feels wrong, so I remain rooted to the spot, continuing to stare up into his mask. After a questionably long silence, I bid him a quiet goodnight and step through the double doors, feeling like I missed something important.
Read part 3 HERE
#cod konig#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig x reader#konig cod#konig fanart#konig#call of duty mw2#cod mw2#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley
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LS2 episode 5 thoughts✨
The conversation Loki had with O.B. first concluded in Loki finding his "why" in order to control the time slipping. And, once he knew that and realized he needs everyone's temporal aura, where does he timeslip to? Back to Mobius. That's a sweet detail, and, similar to episode 1, reveals Loki's trust for this character. Even when Mobius doesn't remember him, Loki still believes in him. And in everything he was told back at the TVA, including the way he describe a jet-ski: "a beautiful union of form and function". Another detail that melted my fool heart was the way Loki laughed after Mobius's (or Don's, but I'm not calling him that) words: "Or did you follow me home?". They are precious.
"You saw something in me that I hadn't seen in myself". That says so much. It reminisces all those times in season 1 when Mobius was by Loki's side:
"A villain" "That's not how I see it".
"You can be whatever, whoever you wanna be. Even someone good. I mean just in case anyone ever told you different".
And we can see Loki learning how to trust, how to care. For his character, this is great development. He's not the same Loki that invaded New York blinded by pain and revenge. He's returning to himself and by doing so, he's returning to what truly matters to him. His friends, his found family. All those timelines he feels burdened to protect.
"It's not about when, where, or why. It's about who." EXACTLY. The other variables are unimportant if they're not in the hands of the right person. And, after the heartbreaking moments in which Loki is the only one left standing after everything falls apart in front of him, I think he understands that. To quote Tom Hiddleston himself: "He learns what heroicism really looks like." And this "who" goes both ways: who rewrites the story, and FOR WHO this is done.
"I can rewrite the story."
That line is epic! It shows the power he always had and can finally access. It puts the concept of free will in another light: it's THE story, not MY story. Also, how far back can this go? At the end of the episode, we see Loki back with O.B back when the Loom was stable. That's the point he chose, for everyone else, not only for himself. At this point, he could have gone back to Asgard, back to New York. Win it all, be king. But that's not his glorious purpose anymore. He's finally seeing what Mobius saw in him, even Thor, some time ago ("Loki, I thought the world of you."). And there was a lot of talk about stories, writing and rewriting them. That's sooo similar to the comic where Loki becomes the God of Stories!! Like, this is actually happening!
"They didn't get a choice in this".
I think this is an extremely interesting conversation he had with Sylvie, in which you can see both of their points, none entirely right. For Sylvie, free will is something left untouched. No intervention, ever, just moments and paths in a disarray only the one who takes them can know them truly. For Loki, it's more of a choice. Yes, we take our own path, but sometimes we're given a choice. There is no bad or right in this game, only choices. By giving everyone a glance at the TVA, Loki realises that. What if they want that life instead of the one they already have? They wouldn't know, if not given the choice.
"I want my friends back. I don't wanna be alone"
Okay, that hurt. In the time cell in episode 1, we remember Sif repeating the same thing over and over again to Loki "I hope you know that you are meant to be alone and you always will be." This says a lot about Loki's fears, and being alone is one of his biggest. But that's the thing, he found these people, he's not alone anymore! So of course it is extremely hard for him to just...give this up? It's not the first time he faces Casey and Mobius (Don?) not knowing him. His reaction "Not again" shows how scary this is, and we can obviously deduce that from the first episode. Not only everything is at risk of just disappearing into a void after the Loom explosion, when they are still there, still living, they don't remember him. Yet Loki finds a way to steady himself, and find everyone in all this mess.
But also, I don't think that wanting your friends back is something selfish, as Sylvie said. After going through different views over the same thing: "I want to stop He Who Remains" to "I want the TVA back" to finally Loki admiting that he wants his friends back, this is a matter that concerns many people, not just one. Besides, he did say that after all of it is done, they can return to their timelines as they never left. That doesn't sound really selfish to me. In fact, it reminds me of something Vision said to Wanda a whole ago: "What is grief, if not love persevering?". Then not wanting to be alone is a lack, a void persevering and waiting to be filled. And if that implies saving the Multiverse as well, then so be it (but that is definitely NOT the only reason Loki does all of this. He wants, and now can, rewrite the story for the better. For everyone, not only for himself.)
As of episode 5: Science/Fiction Loki is one of the most powerful beings in the entire MCU. Being able to travel back at any given point in time and space just by willing it into existence isn't a small thing. This, I believe, is something we deserve to see Loki in control of. Maybe it sounds a little too much to say that the whole fate of Marvel is in his hands now, but...it kinda is, isn't it? If not for Loki, we'd face the same disappearance as in Infinity War, only 100% now, not only 50.
I have been waiting and theorising for a long time that Loki will become the God of Stories. The fact that we might see it in less than a week is...something.
Also judging by the posters (which show different outfits from different times) there's a new suit we'll see him in on screen, and I can't wait!
Thanks for reading <3
#fangirling#loki#tom hiddleston#sylvie#mobius#god of stories#GOD OF STORIES!!!#agent of asgard#agent of asgard comic book#genderfluid loki#lokius
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Let’s talk about Foggy Nelson
TL;DR- if you’re gonna kill him off, make it more compelling.
Chase ranting under the cut:
TW: mentions of g-ns, bl00d, getting sh@t, c@ncer, gr!ef and l@ss
God, the news about cutting Foggy’s role in Born Again short makes me and so many other fans devastated.
I was shocked by these set picture, because Deborah’s face is bloody and it looks like Elden on the ground. And why does it have to happen in front of Josie’s, of all places! That’s so so fucking heartbreaking if what I think happens will happen.
Fuuuck.
I first watched the series just over a year ago, and I instantly connected with Foggy. He’s not one of the big beefy guys beating the snot out of each other on screen. He doesn’t have any radioactive superpowers, he doesn’t know how to fight (unless he has a softball bat), and he could use some work with his Spanish.
But god, I’ve never felt so warm around another character.
He’s kind, he’s a servant heart, he loves unconditionally, and dammit, he loves food! I’ll never forget how hard I cried over the scene of him and Matt in college- sure, it’s a rarity to see Matthew so happy, but it’s even more meaningful that Foggy is there. He’s been by Matt’s side since the day they met. And god, if that isn’t some rugged loyalty, I don’t know what is. Matt treated him like garbage, especially in season 2, season 3, and Defenders, and yet Foggy stays because he just loves his best friend. He wants the best for him.
And so this choice by the Born Again writers, to just throw it all away, seems so cheap.
For people who know me and how I write, I know I’m no better when it comes to killing off characters. I’m not opposed to Major Character Death. But this choice, this way of killing him off seems careless, given the impact he has on the show (and not just his emotional influence. Foggy is part of the reason why Matt does all he does).
Foggy can still be killed off and given a dignified death. I don’t care if the writers killed him off for shock value. Dardevil was never a shock value type show.
Fine, we kill him off.
It makes no damn sense to shoot him on the side of the street, getting it over with in a 2-minute scene.
(Let’s assume that this is what they plan to do, for the sake of what I’m trying to say.)
It’s called Daredevil: Born Again, right?
Rebirth is fucking painful. Sure, so is a gunshot wound to the chest. But so is knowing your best friend is dying and you can do Jack. Shit. about it.
A huge struggle for Matthew is the way he���s constantly fighting tooth and nail for control. Knowing your best friend is dying of cancer (as he suffered in the comics), slowly waning away and there is not a thing you can do about it would hit him so hard and make him lose himself (His metaphorical Death). And he’s trying to hide it all.
Throughout the show, Foggy is there, playing his usual part, but we all have this sense of loss, knowing he won’t be here for much longer. Around the climax of the show, maybe even the finale, it’s time.
For fans of the OG show, we all remember Foggy’s way with words. We remember how he talked down the gang members in the hospital and saved lives. We remember how he had the guts to stand up to Reyes on multiple occasions. We remember his prowess in the courtroom, just as equally matched as his best friend.
So I think Foggy should be the catalyst for Matthew to be Born Again. I think some of his final words are going to make him remember himself.
(And this is not to romanticize cancer in the slightest, and if I were to write this out in full, Foggy’s struggles would be real as they could get. Sending love and empathy to those battling with cancer and those who have lost loved ones. My heart is with you.)
That’s how to make Foggy’s death significant and impactful to his place in Matthew’s life and the narrative.
As Charlie Cox once famously said,
“Foggy Nelson is the beating heart of Daredevil.”
And it would be a damn shame to stop it so soon.
———
(Thanks to @kutpot who helped kickstart this whole rant)
#netflix daredevil#daredevil#daredevil born again#born again#foggy nelson#matthew murdock#mattfoggy#born again critical#mcu critical#mcu criticism#rant post#save daredevil#save foggy nelson#charlie cox#elden henson
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Sception Reads Cass Cain #39
Batgirl (2000) #19 - October 2001
Writer: Kelley Puckett..........Pencils: Damion Scott
Inks: Robert Campanella.....Colors: Jason Wright
Another memorable one shot story in what has become the definitive Cass Cain story mold. I don't think I'll have too much to say about this issue specifically. Those who were fans back in the day surely remember it, and if you're new to Cass's Batgirl run then as always for this early period it's a good book and I encourage you to go out and read the issue for yourself, especially since work has been busy this week, so I don't really have time to go through this issue in detail.
Still, by way of brief recap, this is the one where Cass is patrolling extra hard, determined that literally nobody in Gotham should die that night, when she's distracted by a news broadcast:
Wait, whatever state Gotham is in has the death penalty? Then why do all the super criminals never yadda yadda cinema sins ding sound.
The guy himself is super stoic about it. No sign of repentance or reflection or regret, but he's clearly accepted what's about to happen and determined to face it with some degree of dignity.
But then cast abducts him mid-execution
Only to be stopped by the mother of the woman he killed. I know I'm rushing through this summary, but just, the faces in these panels are so good. Cass's pleading and heartbreak, the woman's implacable stone-faced determination in the face of this demon-looking vigilante, the way the murderer, shocked out of his stoicism, can't bring himself to face this woman. Also just thematically, the metaphor here for Cass's own internal struggle with guilt, that no matter how much she's changed, no matter how much good she does as Batgirl, the man she killed, someone's son, maybe someone's father, is still dead, and she can never change that. It's extremely blunt and on the nose, but it works.
So anyway, back the murderer goes, only now that his stoic shell has broken he can no longer face his end with peaceful dignity. All Cass managed to achieve was to make his death more horrific.
And of course we find out that the reason Cass was so determined that nobody should die is that this was the anniversary of the murder she committed. Which of course is a very Bruce-like sort of sentimentality.
....
We've seen this sort of stand alone episodic one shot from Cass several times now. As much as I like the more serialized stuff playing with her various relationships to Bruce, Babs, the rest of the Bat family, or her dad, or her mom (as of yet unconfirmed by canon), these sorts of one shots really do seem to be the stories og Cass worked best in, the stories she was designed for even. While we've talked about this before, here a short bullet-point review of what defines a classic 'Cass Cain story' from her early Batgirl period
Stand alone story. One issue of the comic, one complete story. It might presume familiarity with Cass's character and background, but they're generally meant to be satisfying even if this is your first introduction to Cass.
Human focus. Cass's stories are concerned not with aliens and demigods and magic and science so fictional it might as well be magic and other larger-than-life comic book tropes, rather they're focused on relatable human characters, regular people trying to survive in a dispassionate world.
Somber tone. Cass's stories aren't upbeat action adventures where good triumphs over evil. The overall tone isn't fun, it's sorrow, grief, isolation, where light and hope are all the more precious for how rare and fragile they are.
'Street level' antagonists / no costumed criminals. This is arguably necessary to maintain the above focus and tone, but no super villains whose bombastic gimmicks and personalities would distract from the humanity of the everyday people around them. Even in the rare case when an enemy has super powers - "Meta" in issue 3, Kenny in issue 10, the cybernetic assassin in issue 18 - they're still dressed in more or less normal clothes and treated as regular people, not comic book super villains. And even then they're the minority of antagonists, usually Cass is fighting regular street thugs and mob guys, even though she's arguably the most explicitly superpowered member of the bat family, which in turn minimizes the length and importance of action scenes so the story can focus on human drama and personal themes.
Heavy thematic resonance. Cass as a character is about family - the family we're born to, or that we choose, and about the tension that results when a family member genuinely loves you and yet is still terrible for you or to you. And she's a character about doing the right thing even when it's hard, even when it doesn't seem to make anything better. And she's a character about guilt, about what it does to you, about how it can motivate you to do better while still hollowing you out inside, about how penance alone without the catharsis of absolution is a bottomless pit that will never be filled no matter how many acts of contrition you pour into it. These themes are the core of Cass's character, and her most iconic stories all relate back to one or more of these core theme in some way. "My dad's bad, isn't he" "Maybe he did [change], but my daughter is still dead"
Not every issue of Cass's book has fit into this description, but when she's not caught up in some crossover story or going through some significant shift to her status quo, these are the sorts of stories she's engaging with on a regular basis. Again, these are arguably the stories she works best in.
I've made no secret of the fact that, while I like modern Cass and I'm glad she exists, she doesn't really hit the same to me as Cass classic. And yeah, a big part of that is that her history and relationships just aren't the same. She doesn't have the same fraught relationship with her father, there are no parallels between David and Bruce, Bruce isn't particularly central to how she became a hero - he wasn't even Batman at the time. She didn't become a hero by stepping into a legacy role Babs had left behind, so there wasn't this close generational connection between her and Babs, or even any particular relationship between them at all until a good deal later.
She still felt guilty over killing someone, but it was something she was forced to do under threat, not something she willingly did only to suddenly regret it in the aftermath, so the guilt seems a lot more misplaced. Also everyone knew about it from pretty early on and forgives her for it, there isn't the same period of her actively hiding it sure that everyone would reject her if they found out like we talked about last time.
So yeah, so, so much of her history and relationships are completely different, but something I maybe haven't focused on enough is that her stories are different.
From the moment modern Cass is introduced she's tied up in global conspiracies, the league of assassins, people turning into monsters. She's on teams with super-powered allies fighting costumed super-criminals in serialized stories that take years to play out to any meaningful resolution. The concise, street-level stories focused on the individual humanity of the people involved and on connecting her stories to her history by thematic links... I haven't read all of modern Cassandra's appearances, but I've read enough of them to say that these kinds of stories either simply aren't present or are overwhelmingly in the minority.
Even in the 'Batgirls' title that sadly ended last year, with Cass, Steph, and Babs are working and living together, theoretically my all time dream book. But their interpersonal relationships are rarely the focus and their adventures are mostly fighting various larger than life costumed criminals. It was a fun book, sure, but even in itself that's a break from OG Cass's deliberately somber tone.
So I guess if there was one thing I'd like to see from modern Cass, apart from some sort of retcon restoring the OG David Cain with his difficult and layered relationship to Cass, it would be a return of the archetypical Cass story, because these are the stories that best highlight Cass's best qualities - her empathy, her compassion, her inner conflicts.
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I Still Remember the Taste of Your Lips
A/N: So, I can't lie, I think this is my favorite of the drabbles I've written for @sjmromanceweek so hopefully everyone equally enjoys! A different type of Anniversary for Day Six, but hopefully still fun and of course, full of fuff :)
“Nesta Archeron.”
Nesta turns at the sound of her name, meeting a broad chest before her eyes flick up and connect with a pair of hazel ones. Somehow, despite the years that have passed, they look the exact same as Nesta remembers them. All golds and greens blurring together into a kaleidoscope of warmth and light. There’s still a scar slashing through the eyebrow above the right one. But where Nesta remembers smooth skin and baby fat still clinging on, there’s now the hard line of a jaw and stubble.
“Long time no see,” Cassian continues, the left corner of his mouth ticking up in a smirk. That’s something that hasn’t changed.
“How long has it been again?” Nesta asks, finally stepping away from the large vase of flowers she was helping Elain to arrange.
“Ten years give or take,” Cassian offers with an easy shrug. “Who’d’ve thought after all those years your baby sister would be marrying my baby brother.”
“I doubt Rhysand appreciates that description considering he was only a grade below us.”
“That’s what makes it more fun.”
Cassian tosses Nesta a wink, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief, and Nesta can’t stop her amused snort. Before she can say anything else, though, the doors to the hall swing open, Feyre practically skipping inside, her hand clasped tightly with Rhysand’s. Nesta doesn’t miss the way Feyre’s white sundress is a bit more wrinkled than when she last saw her sister, but Feyre and Rhysand’s smiles are wide, so she keeps any comments to herself.
“Is everyone here?” Feyre asks, looking around at the small group assembled.
A final head count and a nod from Feyre, and the wedding planner they’ve hired starts giving out instructions. She pairs everyone off and lines them all up, so they practice walking down to their places. Elain and Amren walk down first, then Nesta and Cassian, Mor and Azriel taking up the end of the wedding party. Finally, Feyre and Rhys practice their walk down, the two having decided to walk in together, a symbol of their equal relationship.
Once everyone is standing in their places, the wedding planner starts going through what everyone can expect tomorrow. When Azriel will need to hand over the rings. When Mor will need to take Feyre’s bouquet and when she’ll need to give it back. Nesta tries to pay attention, to listen to everything that the woman is saying, but her eyes drift. She’s surprised to find Cassian already watching her, and when their gazes meet, his grin grows until crinkles appear beside his eyes.
He glances quickly to his left, raising his eyebrows in some sort of silent conversation. Nesta looks to his left as well, her brow pinching in confusion when all she finds is Amren standing proudly next to him as she should be. Nesta can admit it’s a bit comical, the five foot even woman standing next to Cassian’s tall and broad frame.
When Nesta’s eyes dance back to Cassian, he makes a face, raising his arm and miming resting his elbow atop Amren’s head. Nesta has to press her lips together to keep her face neutral, but then Amren takes notice of Cassian’s actions and digs her own elbow into Cassian’s gut in retaliation. Cassian lets out a pained gasp and doubles over, earning looks from everyone else in the group, but Nesta presses the back of her hand against her lips, desperately trying to keep her laughter in.
By the time the rehearsal ends, Amren is still glaring daggers at Cassian, and he backs away from her slowly, his hands raised in a mock surrender.
“You’re going to have to sleep with one eye open after that stunt, you know?” Nesta informs him once Cassian is close enough.
Cassian spins around to face her, his grin still wide and unperturbed. “Maybe, but it made you laugh, so it was worth it.”
It’s such an odd thing to say, and a blush cascades across Nesta’s cheeks before she can stop it. If Cassian notices, he doesn’t say anything, just keeps looking at her with that sincere stare that takes Nesta all the way back to biology class all those years ago. And yet, somehow it’s even more intense than back then, some new emotion Nesta can’t quite put her finger on swimming amongst the greens and golds of his eyes, and Nesta has to look away, turning her attention instead on everyone still gathered and waiting while Feyre and Rhysand chat through the last things for tomorrow with their wedding planner.
“Looks like we’re the only single ones,” Cassian comments.
Nesta looks at Mor and her girlfriend laughing with Elain, at Amren and Varian chatting with Lucien, at Eris straightening the collar of Azriel’s shirt while Azriel looks on with faux annoyance that does nothing to hide the fondness. She tries not to think too hard about the sad little pang that echoes between her ribs, turning instead to offer Cassian a small smile over her shoulder.
“It looks like we are.”
~ * * * ~
Despite a crazy morning of trying to make sure everyone’s hair and makeup was done, getting Feyre into her dress, and getting everyone to the venue on time, the wedding goes off without any hitches. They take photos and head to the reception, everyone anxious to get the party started and to take full advantage of the open bar. The wedding planner has them all line up again in front of the large double doors leading into the ballroom, and already Nesta can hear the other wedding guests, feel the bass of the song the DJ is currently playing.
“We have to do something fun for our entrance,” Cassian tells her, dragging her attention to him. “I could dip you.”
“If you dip me and drop me, I will kill you,” Nesta shoots back, narrowing her eyes for good measure.
“Still threatening violence? Have you ever actually followed through on that threat in the ten years since we’ve seen each other? Actually… don’t answer that. I don’t want to be complicit.”
Nesta rolls her eyes, even as she has to bite back an amused smile. “You’re an idiot.”
“You wound me, Nesta Archeron,” Cassian says with faux solemness, pressing a hand to his chest.
The double doors are pulled open and cheers ring out from inside before Nesta can say anything else. Elain and Amren step inside first, and then it’s Nesta and Cassian’s turn. True to his word, Cassian pulls her close, dipping her dramatically.
The rest of the evening seems to go by in a blur of first dances, speeches, and food, and soon, Nesta finds herself three glasses of wine deep and on the dance floor with Cassian. Cassian has since abandoned his suit jacket, the sleeves of his button down rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons undone, showing off a tease of golden skin and the dark lines of tattoos hiding just beneath. He’s let his hair down from the neat bun he wore for the ceremony, the dark curls flying around her face while he shakes his shoulders in a dramatic shimmy along with the beat of the song playing. One of many atrocious dance moves that has Nesta’s side aching from all her laughing.
“You are an embarrassment to the entire wedding party with those moves,” Nesta calls over the music.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cassian dismisses, grabbing Nesta’s hand and spinning her. “I’m clearly a professional dancer.”
The song changes over to something slower, so Nesta steps back, prepared to head back to her seat or maybe get another drink from the bar. Instead, Cassian’s arm slides around her waist, tugging her back and close. His other hand captures her own, and all Nesta can do is blink in surprise as he starts to sway them to the beat. His hand spans almost the entirety of the small of her back, and it seems to radiate warmth along with the rest of him, seeping through the fabric of her dress and leaving her skin blazing in the best way. He tilts his head down to keep Nesta’s gaze, and it causes stray strands of his hair to tumble along his temple, casting shadows across his cheeks and hazel eyes. Nesta’s heart trips over itself between her ribs, and it takes her a moment too long before she finally slides her free hand to Cassian’s shoulder, following his steps.
“I haven’t had a chance to ask you yet what you’ve been up to. Since we last saw each other I mean,” Cassian says, moving them in a slow circle.
“You mean since ten years ago?” Nesta asks dryly, raising an eyebrow.
Cassian chuckles, Nesta feeling the way the sound rumbles in his chest where they’re pressed together. “Something like that.”
“Well, I don’t have much to report. Went to college. Went to law school.”
“Proud member of the high school debate team became a lawyer. Why am I not surprised? Where’s your firm?”
“I was in Adriata, but I just relocated back to Velaris. Made partner actually.”
“That’s amazing, Nes.”
The nickname prickles along Nesta’s skin, awakening something simmering in her blood until she has to swallow hard. “And what about yourself?”
“I’m a business owner. A gym specifically. It’s great. I especially enjoy teaching self defense classes. You should stop by sometime now that you’re back in Velaris,” Cassian tells her, the sincerity in his tone and in his expression seeming to hide some deeper meaning behind the request.
Before Nesta can even begin to dwell on what he could mean, the music once again changes back to something upbeat and bass heavy. She and Cassian continue to stand there for a moment, holding each other, watching each other, even as everyone else around them returns to dancing. Fire crackles and sparks through Nesta’s veins, and she has to pull away from Cassian. She offers him a small smile before retreating toward the bar after all, ordering another glass of wine. She definitely needs a drink. But she only gets a few sips in before she’s pulled back onto the dance floor, this time with Elain and Feyre.
The songs start to blur together as Nesta dances with them, but soon, she needs a break, leaving her sisters in the very capable hands of their significant others. Nesta pushes her hair off her face, her chest still heaving slightly from all the dancing. She tries again for the bar, in desperate need of something to drink now, but there’s a bit of a queue, so she stands behind two of Rhysand’s friends, waiting for her turn.
“Distract the bartender for me,” a voice whispers against her ear.
Nesta turns to find Cassian, a smirk pulled across his face and his hazel eyes twinkling with that mischievous mirth of his. He offers Nesta a wink and backs away before she can even ask what he’s talking about, and she considers shouting after him, but a throat clearing in front of her lets her know the bartender is waiting for her. With a shake of her head, she steps up to the bar, offering the bartender a small smile in greeting.
“What can I get you?” the man asks, already reaching for one of the glasses.
“Um… can I get…” Nesta starts, trailing off when she notices Cassian sneaking behind the bar and reaching for one of the bottles. The bartender frowns, turning to follow her gaze, but Nesta quickly leans forward on the bar, crossing her arms and pressing in her elbows. From the way the bartender’s eyes drop to her chest, she knows it worked. “Sorry. Can I just get some water? I’m so hot from all that dancing.”
Nesta makes a big show of batting her eyelashes and fanning her face with her hand. The bartender swallows hard, stumbling over his words. By the time he's finally coming back to himself and filling Nesta’s glass with water, Cassian has snuck back out from behind the bar.
“So what’s your name?” the bartender asks, sliding the water over to Nesta. “I’m—”
“Sorry, she’s not interested,” Cassian cuts in, grabbing Nesta’s hand in his and all but running away.
Cassian leads them out of the large ballroom the reception is in and out the back door of the building, only dropping Nesta’s hand when they’re greeted by the crisp night air and a blanket of stars overhead. They take a seat on the back steps, Cassian sitting close enough to her that their shoulders brush as he opens the bottle of wine he stole. Nesta knows she should probably scoot away, should try and put some distance between this man she hasn’t seen in ten years, but he’s so warm that she can’t bring herself to. Instead, she watches the way his hands work as he pulls the cork free, watches the way his forearm flexes and his throat bobs as he takes a swig before holding out the bottle for Nesta to take.
“I can’t believe you stole a bottle of wine,” Nesta chastises, even as she takes the bottle and drinks from it anyways.
“Rhys already paid for all the bottles. It was just going to go to waste at the end of the night anyway.”
Nesta hums but doesn’t say anything more. They sit like that for a while, passing the bottle back and forth between them and enjoying the quiet peace of the night. The next time Nesta hands the bottle back to Cassian, he digs his phone out from his pocket, making a surprised sound at whatever he sees on the screen.
“Would you look at the time, Nes,” Cassian says, knocking his arm gently against hers. “Guess what today is.”
Nesta frowns in confusion, turning to peer at him. “The day of Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding…?”
“Technically it’s 12:03 now,” Cassian points out, brandishing his phone and the time displayed there. “So, no.”
“The day after Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding?”
“On this day, ten years ago, we kissed,” Cassian explains, holding up the bottle of wine in a mock toast toward the sky. “Happy anniversary.”
“What are you talking about?” Nesta asks, her tone colored with laughter.
“Ten years ago, we were at a party in Kallias’s basement, and Mor had the genius idea to play seven minutes in heaven. It was me and you in the closet.”
Nesta is full on laughing now, unable to stop the giggles that fall past her lips. “I cannot believe you remember the exact date of that.”
“A man never forgets getting to kiss the hottest girl in school,” Cassian says, his tone matter-of-fact.
“I was not the hottest girl at the school,” Nesta argues, shaking her head in disbelief at this whole conversation.
“You were to me,” Cassian promises, turning his gaze fully toward Nesta. “I was going to tell you, you know. That Monday after, at school. I knew you always stopped at your locker between second and third period, and I was going to tell you and ask you out, but…”
“But that was the week my Mom got sick,” Nesta finishes for him, dropping her gaze to her lap. “We never did go back to that school after everything.”
“I’m sorry about what happened with your parents. Both of them,” Cassian tells her quietly, reaching over and settling his hand over where hers are twisting in the fabric of her dress.
“It’s in the past now. It’s fine.”
“Well, hopefully, it didn’t completely ruin our memorable kiss.”
Cassian’s tone is light, the remark teasing, but his hazel eyes still shine with sincerity, with sympathy, and Nesta knows he’s just trying to make her feel better. It has warmth flooding between her ribs and blooming down her veins, and she offers him a small smile of thanks.
“Memorable isn’t exactly the word I would use,” Nesta teases right back. “Especially considering I didn’t remember it until you mentioned it just now.”
“Wow,” Cassian drawls sarcastically, making a big show of shaking his head in disappointment. “Way to absolutely destroy my self esteem.”
“We were fifteen! Plus, I was blindfolded for some reason for that stupid game.”
“Alright, Nes,” Cassian starts, reaching down and curling his hands around Nesta’s ankles. He pulls her legs up and over his lap, tugging her even closer to him. “Eyes wide open. It’s time for a re-do.”
Nesta lets out a sound somewhere between a surprised laugh and a gasp, eyes widening. “Cassian.”
“Nesta.”
“You cannot be serious right now.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I am completely serious,” Cassian assures her, reaching up to toy with a stray strand of her hair before tucking it gently behind her ear. “We may not be in high school anymore, but you’re still the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.”
Nesta doesn’t even know what to say to that. There’s no denying that she had a crush on him at one point when they were in school together. And there’s definitely no denying that he’s only gotten more gorgeous with age. She can’t deny that in just the twenty four hours they’ve spent together, he’s made her laugh and smile and feel light in a way she hasn’t in a long time, in a way that no one ever has, and all while still seeing her somehow.
And maybe it’s all the wine sitting warmly in her gut and the alcohol thrumming through her veins. Maybe it’s all the excitement and joy of Feyre and Rhysand’s day. But some part of Nesta eggs her on, whispers in the back of her mind, and draws her in in in to Cassian. Some part deep in her soul recognizes him, feels safe with him, wants him in a way that is both terrifying and exhilarating. And maybe it’s all of that or none of that, but before Nesta can talk herself out of it, she reaches up and buries a hand in the dark curls of Cassian’s hair, tugging him into her until their lips meet.
The kiss has electricity firing through Nesta’s every nerve ending. Cassian has one arm secure around her waist, the other hand cradling her jaw, and Nesta can taste the bottle of wine they shared on his tongue when he deepens the kiss. The dark strands of his hair are soft and silky between her fingers and when she tugs, he groans into her mouth. She presses closer still, practically in Cassian’s lap but she doesn’t care and Cassian doesn’t seem to either if the way his arm tightens around her is any indication. When they finally pull back, Nesta keeps her eyes closed, catching her breath, relishing the way her lips still tingle, the feel of Cassian wrapped around and pressed against her.
“I know I’m ten years late asking, but any chance of getting that date?”
—
Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @cassiansbigwingspan @unlikelypersonalknight1 @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo
#nessian#nesta archeron#cassian#acotar#sjmromanceweek2023#nessian fanfiction#nessian fic#nesta x cassian#my fic
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