#listen its my first time using tumblr its fine i can edit this later right

[timdrakescoffeecup]

(Updated Sometimes) Tim Drake Fanfic Masterlist

cw's will not be included, so make sure to check the tags. also might include some jason fics too

Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once

Tim asks Jason to teach him how to use a gun. (One shot, funny)

The Long Way Home by itsnatalie

Tim and Jason get trapped in a labyrinth that shows their worst nightmares. (Multi, angst, hurt/comfort)

like falling water by naheka

Dick crashes at Jason's place, hopped up on fear gas. (One shot, funny)

Bet on it by Lysical

Damian needs Jason's help to hide something from Bruce. (One shot, funny)

Deliver Yourself by forestgreen

Jason adopts his younger self. (Multi, angst)

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.

When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.

But most of all, Tim is alone. (Multi, angst)

Home by sElkieNight60

Tim forgets who he is. (Multi, angst)

Late Night Langoustining by whaleofatime

Jason adopts a lobster. (One shot, funny)

two against the world by carolinaa

While following Batman and Robin, Tim finds a puppy. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by Ultrageekatlarge

Tim blackmails Batman into helping him arrest his murderous uncle. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

See Life As a Worthy Opponent by TriviasGhost

Tim goes to a universe where he never existed. (Multi, incomplete)

The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks

What the comics neglected to cover after Bruce returns from being lost in time. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Obedience by Sohotthateveryonedied

Something is seriously wrong with Tim—Jason just knows it. Ever since the Mad Hatter incident, Tim has been acting completely different, and the worst part is that no one believes Jason when he tells them so.

But when the truth is eventually revealed, the whole family comes to realize that the situation is far worse than anyone could have ever predicted. (One shot, angst)

To an Athlete Dying Young by SonoSvegliato

A series detailing Tim’s ascension to Robinhood, with angsty Red Hood vigilantes in the background. (Multi, angst)

Matters of the Heart by DM (Nyerus), Nyerus

Kon need's Tim's help with an investigation in Metropolis. Feelings ensue. (Multi, Timkon)

It Wasn't Real (But We Were Happy) by lurkinglurkerwholurks

“Everyone’s fine. You don’t need me anymore. I told you, Bruce. I told you I’d stay until you didn’t need me anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I stayed too long. I should have... I shouldn’t have waited so long." (Multi, angst)

occam's razor by Beatrice eagle

An in-universe reddit thread about Jason's death. (One shot, funny)

To Try, To Err, To Try Again by theLiterator

Tim knits Damian a present. (One shot, wholesome?)

let's get mischievous by CreamofTomatoSoup

Tim's friend gets possessed by Dionysius. (One shot, angst)

Whoopsie by MichaBerry

Tim forgets to tell that he lost his spleen. Oops. (One shot, angst?)

Latchkey by goldkirk

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird nextdoor neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there. (Multi, hurt/comfort, this is a MUST READ for timfics)

Trouble Magnet by strikeyoucolors

"It's like you've been synchronized into passively hostile acts against Tim. Did he do something? Were you brainwashed? Because I now have a son who has been crushed, had his face broken, and been shot. All incidences of friendly fire. " (One shot, funny)

Echoes of You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

Milk white skin beneath the mud, black hair hanging in muddy clumps around his ears. Blue eyes staring back at him, animal-bright and dilated in the brief moment before he flinches back from the light with a cry of pain that stabs through Jason to the soul. (One shot, angst)

A Simple Life by RenaRoo

Tim Drake is living a simple life in one of the worst parts of Gotham. He makes the best of it, though. He makes for himself the only life he's ever known...

He thinks. (One shot, angst)

The Wound Begins to Bleed by audreycritter

Now that Tim’s moved back to the manor, he just wants a few afternoons a week without Damian around.

Funny how getting that was the catalyst for him becoming a better big brother. (One shot, brotherly bonding)

Hey, Lawman! by dinolaur

Tim goes MIA during lunch. (One shot, funny)

Gotham Banksy by LananiA3O

After finding out that he remains unavenged, Jason returns to Gotham, but instead of deciding to kill Bruce, he decides to channel his rage into a more creative endeavor: spray-painting Gotham until the message is loud and clear to everyone: fuck Batman. (Multi, angst)

Breaking News: Local Teen Given Intervention For Normal Behaviour by yellowrooster

Tim ends up in an alternate dimension where he's considered a drug addict. (One shot, funny)

Bay Through Hell by GordandV

Tim is mermaid. (Multi, AU)

Hot Dog, French Fries by eggmacguffin

Damian tries to hide that he's been hit with a truth serum. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

What happens in Vegas by Ididloveyou_once

Tim and Kon get married in Vegas, while drunk. (Multi, timkon)

Quarter past midnight by Aaren

Instead of being found by Talia after crawling out of his grave, Jason becomes a nurse. (Multi, canon divergence)

(Un)Wanted by Mika-chan (mikarin)

Tim gets kidnapped. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

A Midafternoon Beetdown by whaleofatime

Jason cosplays as a organic farmer. (One shot, funny)

Liminal Space by Calamityjim

Bruce's habit of collecting strays isn't limited by dimension. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Can't Stay Down (a Documentary) by SonoSvegliato

Tim gets his tonsils removed. (Multi, funny)

Surveillance by smilebackwards

Tim is a civilian who contributes to crime fighting by taking surveillance photos and leaving them on the desktop of the Batcomputer. (Multi, found family)

Chemistry of a Car Crash by anthologia

Tim gets into a car crash. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

Bet It all On Red by centreoftheselights

Instead of becoming enemies, Robin and Red Hood form an alliance. (One shot series, canon divergence)

False Dichotomy by heartslogos

Red Hood calls Red Robin's bandoliers "super convenient idiot handles". (One shot)

don't take you guns to town by kreestar

batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne. (One shot, angst)

Stubborn by audreycritter

When your butler mom calls and says, "Go check on your brother," you don't argue. You just do it. (Multi, sickfic)

I'm Just Fine by girlgeekjf

After rescuing a group of kidnapped children, Tim reflects on what he could’ve done better. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

A Christmas Miracle by Mithen

Damian and Dick go undercover to bust a child-kidnapping ring whose members dress up as Santa Claus. (One shot, funny)

Confidence Lost by C_R_Scott

Everything about Neal Caffrey’s past prior to his 18th birthday is a mystery, even to him. However, when someone unexpectedly recognizes him by a name that he has never used as an alias before, he learns that the biggest con of his life is literally his life. (or, tim is neal caffrey from white collar) (multi, crossover)

Exit Wounds by incogneat_oh

Did you hear this one? A vigilante walks into a warehouse and kills the joker. (One shot, angst)

If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You) by lurkinglurkerwholurks

Five times Jason saved his siblings, and one time they saved him. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Normally People Pass Out After by WriterfromGotham

Tim donates blood. (One shot, angst and fluff)

In Living Memory by DangerBeckett

Jason remembers why he stays out of other people's business. (One shot, angst)

Set My Mind To Wandering by Tabithian

Tim goes on a vacation. (One shot series, angst)

A Little Bit of Sunshine, A Little Bit of Rain by ohwhatevrewhatevr

For once, Tim is happy with his life. (One shot, fluff?)

American Ninja Worrier by DangerBeckett

Tim hires a ninja intern. Jason becomes concerned. (One shot, funny)

The Wrong Boy is Breathing by heartslogos

Tim visits Jason's grave all the time. (One shot, angst)

Jason Todd: The Not-So-Outlaw by GoAwayOlivia

Jason Todd isn't what Batman made him, he isn't what the Joker made him, he isn't what the League of Assassins made him, and he isn't what the Lazarus Pit made him. He's his own person and he's taking himself back, one home renovation at a time. Also he might just make friends with the people who are supposed to be his brothers while he's at it. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

The Art of Conversation by glassgoblin

Robin needs to talk to a friend, but everyone is a little busy. (One shot, angst)

Road Rage Robin by heartslogos

"I’d be doing humanity a favor.” Tim grinds out, “And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I’ve done worse.“ (One shot, funny)

How to be a male Batgirl by Blackjay27

There are many ways to help Batman and Robin, but no matter which universe he's in, Tim's method will always end with him in a costume on Gotham's rooftops. (Multi, canon divergence)

I Saw Grayson Kissing Santa Claus by pupeez4eva

It’s Christmas time, and Damian is on a mission - to stop this ‘Santa Claus’ fellow from molesting his older brother. (Multi, funny) (this fic is so funny it made me cackle out loud)

Favourite Strangers by SpiritsFlame

It's been six months since Bruce's actions led to the death of Superman. (One shot, crossover with the movies?)

show me yesterday, for i can't find today by indent

Then: The year is 2013. Jason Todd is alive, fourteen years old, and about to follow Sheila Haywood, his birth mother, into the hands of the Joker. All he wants is to save her life.

Now: The year is 2018. Jason Todd was dead. But now he's a nineteen year old vigilante about to take down the latest C-Lister rogue. Unfortunately for him, its a rogue that specialises in time-travel technology. And what starts as an easy takedown...ends as a time travelling phenomenon.

The two Jasons swap places. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Retrograde Motion by Lysical

All Jason wanted was a case that was simple, clean, and far away from the latest mess in Gotham. Magic wasn't the Outlaws' area of expertise, but they soon found themselves investigating a dark wizard with a penchant for organ harvesting.

When an accident on the case leaves Jason as a clueless seven year old with a memory that's spotty at best, what else can his team do but go to his family for help? (Multi, hurt/comfort?)

anglerfish by envysparkler

Robin was having a horrible night even before the Red Hood showed up. (One shot, angst)

Tso'ape Mumbichi by keeptogethernow

Tim is Talon. (Multi, AU)

Kodokuno Shoujo (A Lonely Girl) by C_R_Scott

A tale of two Robins wrapped up in an Asian-style horror story. Tim Drake goes to Japan for business, both for Wayne Enterprises and Batman Incorporated. However, when he returns to Gotham City, it's Damian Wayne who discovers he brought along more from his trip overseas than just his luggage and mission report. (Multi, horror)

at me, too, someone is looking by bacondoughnut

Dick Grayson knows he's got problems when the Red Hood's busted leg somehow becomes his concern. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Help by Loxare

Jason never went to Gotham after he emerged from the Lazarus Pit. Instead, he went to Bludhaven to begin his reign of terror. (Or Jason adopts all the children of Bludhaven.) (Multi, fluff)

Lean on me by Musingsofthesky

Tim just wants to hang out with Bruce. Too bad his cold has other plans. (One shot, sickfic)

The Ol' Switcheroo by AutumnHobbit

Damian takes a bullet for Tim. (One shot, angst)

Meant to be by protagonistically

Tim takes a bullet for Bruce. (One shot, angst)

Juneberries by MichaBerry

When Tim is taken, Damian has to come to terms with his own insecurities, and how he really feels towards his older 'brother'. When he does, it might be too late. (Multi, angst)

though the sun continues to stand by metropolisjournal (TKodami)

Tim in the movie universe. (Multi, angst)

The Time We've Got by DawnsEternalLight

While on an emergency Redbull run, Tim tries to talk to his adopted father. (One shot, fluff)

#listen its my first time using tumblr its fine i can edit this later right #wip #to be updated #i like angst okay thats why its mostly angst #idk why i sound so defensive #there will be the occasional jason fic #why do ao3 authors have such strange names #i swear if i accidentally delete this #why are there so many danny fenton cross fics #masterlist #fanfic recs #fanfic rec #fanfics #fanfiction #batfam #batfamily #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson #richard grayson #nightwing #tim drake #timothy drake #red robin #batman #bruce wayne #dc comics #dcu #dc universe #dc characters

[ardent-fox]

Tag Game Masterpost

Got tagged by some wonderful humans, including @celestialmickey, @energievie, @creepkinginc, @metalheadmickey and @look-i-love-u to complete these fun tag games, thank you and spring blossoms to each of you! 💐💙

********

✨️ Tag Game Tuesday Wednesday ✨️

Name: Lyds ⚘️

Age: 34 for another 4 weeks or so 🗓

Where in the world are you? Europe, middle of nowhere📍

The meaning behind your URL: 'Ardent' is one of my favorite words, husband calls me Foxxy cause of my red hair, also it sounds like 'ardent fucks' together so cheeky win 🍑

Your second favorite color: Dusty pink 💕

Any pets? Jasper the bun 🐇

Favorite season: Spring, I feel as if I'm in love with the whole world during it, it kicked in earlier this year and I'm absolutely fine with that 🌸

Last thing you read: Galladrabbles. My brain has been doing its cute thing where it can't focus on reading or writing anything longer than that for the past few weeks 🙃

Last song you listened to: I played the Crazy Ex Girlfriend soundtrack while getting ready to go out, so Gettin' Bi (which has become an anthem of mine ngl) 🎵

What are you wearing right now? A hoodie with a crumbling print of a tattooed and pierced out princess Jasmine taking a selfie, black sweatpants and socks with chihuahuas wearing Santa hats on them, my go-to sexy at home look 😅

A hobby of yours: Writing fanfiction and planning our home makeover, both usually taking place only in my head 💭

Your comfort show or movie: Got several, going with Pride and Prejudice (the 1995 BBC miniseries) this time 📜

And finally, what are you up to today? Had a monthly supply of hay delivered to me this morning, went to a job interview that went surprisingly well, did some chores and now I'm chilling here 😎

********

✨️ Tag Game Fandom Edition ✨️

Your name: Lyds 🌸

Your age: Still 34 😅

Your first fandom(s): Not sure what qualifies, but probably House M.D. 🩺

Your current fandom(s): Though my hyperfixations are always changing, Shameless/Gallavich is the only fandom I actively engage in 🧑🏼‍🤝‍🧑🏻

How did you first get into fandom? I was part of a Tim Burton/Johnny Depp RPG message board where I played 3 characters and we also used to write what I now realize was fanfiction on the spot over MSN. A bunch of us were obsessed with House M.D. and someone must have mentioned fanfiction.net to me cause I got hooked on reading Hilson and Huddy stories around the same time 👀

How long have you been engaging with fandom spaces? The RPG/House era started in 2008, but I didn't become active on Tumblr and AO3 until getting involved in the Shameless fandom as of April 2022 🗓

How often do you read fanfics? When my brain is in the right place, I'd say a couple stories a week 📱

Top 3 characters from your current fandom(s): Ian gallagher, Mickey Milkovich, Castiel (still going through Supernatural and loving every bit of it) 💙

Have you ever written a fic for a fandom? If so, shout it out! Yes, still at one completed ficlet and a Galladrabble collection on my AO3, not counting the 5-6 WIPs I have in my docs 📂

Have you ever drawn fanart for a fandom? Nope, can't draw to save my life 🙃

Share a personal headcanon that you feel very strongly about: Probably not the most original one, but Mickey never liked his full name until Ian stated he thought it was beautiful. Him using it in his wedding vows is symbolic of him reconciling with the darkest parts of himself and accepting them before offering his whole self to Ian, a declaration of love for both of them in his own way. The fact that it somewhat mirrors the act of him apprehensively coming out in front of his own hostile audience, only to confidently show his self-acceptance and love for Ian in front of their favorite people 6 years later is just icing on the (wedding) cake 💖

You’re trying to convince a friend to get into your current fandom(s) with you. What episode, clip, or scene are you showing them? The "I can explain this" scene when Mickey gets shot in the ass and the social worker appears at the Gallagher house, it's peak Shameless madness 😄

And finally, what does fandom mean to you? A sanctuary of creativity and comfort where we can all be, make and enjoy whatever we want, the closest thing to utopia there is 🫶

Tagging @ian-galagher, @sickness-health-all-that-shit, @gallawitchxx, @gardenerian, @squidyyy23, @juliakayyy, @whatwouldmickeydo, @auds-and-evens, @thisdivorce, @sleepyfacetoughguy and whoever sees this and would like to play! ✨️

#thank you all for tagging me over the last two weeks #decided to catch up on only these two games since there's too much to keep track of #tag game #tag game masterpost #fandom friends #about me

[sillyvirus]

sorry girl when i was going send an ask i accidentally unfollowed you but i followed you again sorry that will NEVER happen again...

anyway HEY WHATS UP YOU GUYS.... ITS JOJO AND RUVI ONCE AGAIN IN THE COOLEST PLACE ON EARTH (MIKKONOTHANS ASK BOX ON TUMBLR DOT COM).... we also have a quick little Song recommendation or no Artist rec for you it is Jun Togawa we Love her music it goes NUTS!!!!!! jojo and ruvi Stamp Of Approval. also we have this Fun edit for you: https://www.instagram.com/p/Cg-Ctu1haJx/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Ok show and tell is over. time for the Real Business. THE REAL DEAL!!!! THE DEER!!!! oh wait before we get to the real deal jojo has something to say: he apologizes for leaving you on read and he will reply later. yeah. because right not its business time. EYYYAAS!!!!! ok

now for the actual business which i have yet to figure out what the business is i just wanted to say that. how about some questions (suggestion from jojo.) i think its a great idea. according to jojo you love answering questions so yeah. lets do it.

question Number Uno: what is your favorite enzyme!!! lets find out i have to know.

question number Two: from jojo: when are gonna watch hannibal together (the three of us) GIRL I WANNA KNOW TOO.... we need to do that soon because it would eat.

question number 3: i asked jojo this earlier and now its Your turn. if i eat something and i am now in the Fed Metabolic State... what hormone will my pancreas produce? jojo is producing it right now. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO LOOK IT UP!!! JOJO SAID SO!! IT HAS TO COME FROM YOUR HEART!!!!! or your pancreas is fine too. ok go. (jojo got it right btw)

question Four: jojo wants to know what you think about the songs/artist we recommended and the edit. so let us know. woohhooo.

question FIVE! JOJO WANTS TO KNOW (AND I ALSO DO) WHAT UR FAVORITE HANNIBAL EPISODE IS!!!!!!

OKAYYYYYYYY MIKKO HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT REST OF YOUR DAY. WE LUV YA!!!!! <333 AHHHHHHHHH -JOJO WOOOOHOOO WE ARE CURRENTLY SCREAMING BECAUSE THE SONG WE'RE LISTENING TO IS SOOOOOOOO GOOD ASJHJASFHSURhdaj

-from (with love) jaur jaur and raurvi (to miakkaur) GOODBYE! <3

OH MY LORD when i saw the notification i was like NO WAY!!! ANOTHER MUSHRUVI!! THIS IS THE GREAT NEWS!! but turns out its just the same good old mushruvi....

I HOPE MY ASK BOX IS VERY COZY AND COMFY FOR YOU GUYS ^__^ i just listened to a few bits of her music AND THIS IS RIGHT DOWN MY ALLEY :FLUSHED: she gets a third stamp of approval from as well. ARE YOU KIDDING ME THANK YOU FOR THIS FUN LOTTLE EDIT IM LITTERALLY SOBBING. SUKI SUKI DAIII SUKI. what the he'll guys. now yall know this isnt my first time watching it but it hits in the right spot....

i forgive you Jojo.

questions are always a great idea :3

1: MY FAVOURITE ENZYME IS LIGASE BECAUSE ITS SO SWEET ITS LIKE A MATCHMAKER AWWW. AND THERE WAS SOMEHTHING ABOUT DNA I DONT REMEMBER WELL. BUT I DO LOVE DNA!

2: GIIIIIIRL smirk

3: I AM NOT LOOKING IT UP I SWEAR TO MY LIFE but i have a feeling... .. i have a feeling it might be melatonin because i get so very sleepy after eating and so does everyone else :3

4: I LOVE THE ARTIST SO MUCH IM GONNA DOWNLOAD HER ALBUMs AND LISTEN TO IT ONMY WAY TO WORK AND BACK AND ALSO WHILE I DO STUFF THANK YOU SOMUCH FOR MY LIFE. AND THE EDIT TOO

5: OH GOD. i wish i could memorize episodes like jojo does... i can share my favourite moments ahhaha. i liked it a lot when hannibal sniffed will and will went Did You Just Sniff Me. that made me have a good giggle

THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE GETTING ASKS FROM YOU IT FEELS LIKE A CELEBRTY PERSONALLY VISITED MY HOUSE AND WENT wow its cozy in here and you are a funny and worthy person. I LOVE YOU GOONS IM YOUR BIGGEST FAN SNIFF

let me turn the tables i want to ask. if i was therian (or A therian..? is it an adjective .?) WHAT would be my thersona. i think jojo will know his answer very well but im interested in ruvi's opinionSO JOJO KEEP QUIET

-love, mikkaur

#the goons

[insertdisc5]

Hi!! I wanted to ask, in celebration of Deltarune CH. 2, do you have any updated thoughts and head canons about the game?? Like, y'know, similar to a previous ask about Kris in your Deltarune tag? Thanks!

thoughts on kris part 2 i guess???? (part 1 from ch1 here lol)

spoilers for deltarune like woah. this wont be kris focused just random thoughts on everything. thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk

not that many thoughts for this chapter tbh! EDIT LOL: this was a lie i have a lot of thoughts

-just in general i feel like the player isn't the only one controlling kris... like yes the player forced kris to do what happened in the snowgrave route but AT THE SAME TIME idk it feels like there's someone else too. just because of the terrifying voice i suppose. and also the jerky movement kris does every time they get their soul out? unless there's another reason for it... maybe getting your soul out means you walk weird lol

-BUT ALSO i feel like kris is 100% in control when they create fountains. idk it just makes sense kris would create them. to create another world, a better world, A WORLD WHERE THEIR BROTHER IS HERE PERHAPS? i do wonder why they get their soul out then though. i'm all for it sweetie! do whatever! i support you!

-(i am and will be playing deltarune with only kris' best interests in mind. i will not hurt anyone unless kris wants me to. dont worry my little meow meow im on your side! talk to me! no? okay ill stay under the sink its fine)

-speaking of asriel. SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER (starts crying) V-VACATION COLLEGE WHEN

-kris misses their brother so much it's so sad. if you make kris steal 5$ from asriel they take it "reluctantly"? talking to asriel online so often even alphys knows?? the google search?? GOING INTO ASRIEL'S GOOGLE SEARCH ROOM WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED BECAUSE THEY'RE CONVINCED THEY ALREADY KNOW WHATS IN THERE? THAT ONE IS LESS OF A MISSING THING BUT IM LIKE OH MY GOD

-the city walk with susie at the end makes it clear to me that kris really values susie's friendship... kris even sits with her if you spend long enough near the lake like aaaaah ;_;

-and even in snowgrave you spend your last acts with the final boss calling for your friends like YES there's a way bigger creepy aspect to this (kris as more of a Leader who Commands and commands their subjects to come) but still :'0 (and then noelle answers oh my god noelle im so sorry for the trauma)

-berdly. listen. listen. listen. liste

-berdly sucks but [berdly hurts his arm in the battle against queen if you don't save him because he doesnt want to hurt you] [berdly realizing smg's wrong in snowgrave and immediately taking steps to save noelle] berdly is my little crumb nugget. i will protect him.

-noelle. noelle. girlboss!

-like ooooh listen. hearing about the genocide path for undertale. made me go "that is SO COOL. i HAVE to experience it myself this is great. hehehe killing time" and like no regrets. i was fully enjoying the experience knowing i was an awful person. SNOWGRAVE THOUGH. i will never try this myself its too fucked up. casually grooming your childhood friend to murder people <3 and also acting like a weird stalker towards her <3 stockholm syndrome speedrun i will get all the info i can about this but i will never do this myself

-people remarking the kris/player>noelle relationship is similar to the relationship between player>chara in genocide path is like yes. chefs kiss. don't worry we just are making you stronger and everything will be fine "you made me kill my friend? and for what?" this is fine sweetie don't worry about it!!!!!!

-like the amount of details added to snowgrave, like if you equip noelle's watch she notices later? and her battle animations change as time goes on, she gets an ice shield and stops sighing in relief after battle? oh my god? oh my god.

-(berdly is not awake.) JUST KILL ME RIGHT HERE I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING ABOUT BERDLY NOT BEING AWAKE!!!!!

-also why didnt he turn into dust. so many possible reasons. is magic a thing in the normal world and perhaps no magic means no dust (theres graves). maybe he isnt dead. maybe hes braindead. maybe he'll come back. either way that boy is now in the closet big enough to put someone in

-also dess' name probably being december AND THATS WHY NOELLE LOST THE SPELLING BEE?!?!??! FUCK ME UP!!!!! JUST FUCK ME UP!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

-also so many good pixel art this chapter. too many? i didnt need pixel art of cardboard noelle falling on the statue. like thank you but please. please it hurts my game artist brain.

-the expressions in this chapter were also top notch. all the unsettling noelle expressions like (i fall over face first)

-i threw away the ball of junk (which i already tried in ch1) and this time the game was like "ARE YOU SURE BC THIS IS A BAD IDEA" and kris felt bitter :'( (it deletes all your items in the dark world)

-i uh fucked up and skipped the susie+noelle scene bc listen last time ralsei mentionned seeing what susie is doing we missed some PRIMO LORE. turns out it just makes you skip the scene and you dont get anything new. welp

-speaking of ralsei well you know. he exists. but im stuck on him going "i just wonder what being ralsei-like even is...?" ralsei my dude there's so much i could say about this. do you feel like you can't be ralsei-like because you feel like you have to be asriel-like

-but also that makes no sense bc susie hasnt even mentioned ralsei looks like asriel. and i cant imagine asriel being so meek. so WHAT GIVES

-ralsei as kris’ “i wish i was a monster just like my bro and family and i’d look like asriel but with red horns [THE HALLOWEEN COSTUME] and my name would be something cool like ralsei instead of a boring human name like kris and im sweet and cute because thats how i act with asriel because ASRIEL MADE ME” theory because that would be cute.

-ASRIEL GOING TO THE CHURCH TO CONFESS HIS "SINS" WHEN "SINS" AREN'T A THING IN THE ANGEL BELIEF LIKE I KNOW THIS INTERACTION WAS TREATED AS A JOKE BUT WHAT THE FUCK ASRIEL?

-kris definitely has a connection with the big red door in the city, judging by what the kids say they probably went there... i feel like this place's dark world will be the Final Dungeon you KNOW some shit happened there. also the sounds you hear when you go there is the phone dark world call's sound slowed down? AND AFTER SNOWGRAVE APPARENTLY YOU CANT HEAR IT ANYMORE? HUWAH?

-speaking of songs the songs were all so good, My Castle Town rules, the berdly snowgrave music is stuck in my head, flashback is uwah wuahah, Until Next Time is so good, AND ALSO A FRIEND NOTICED THE DARK WORLD CITY THEME IS JUST tHE SONG 74 (MOST NOTICEABLE WITH THE SNOWGRAVE VERSION)?????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN????? it might be just "hey its just reuse" BUT MR FOX YOU KNOW WE'RE GONNA READ INTO THIS IS NOELLE THE ONE SINGING IDK BRO!!!!!!!!!!

-asgore dreemurr fired from the force what happun!!!!! game theory is that asgore is related to dess' death/disappearance but eh who knows

-you start the chapter at lvl2 and get to lvl3 after the final boss, a friend mentioned this is probably because we destroyed a world and im :0

-to go back to kris it's still so interesting to figure out who they are based on how they act/people mention them. like kris shaking the ferris wheel car? yeah makes sense i can imagine a pranking kid do this. kris' dance? yeah thats a little silly but i can buy it. doing cool anime poses? well i dunno this doesnt line up PERFECTLY but sure. BUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN SNOWGRAVE... especially >proceed like that is such a weird thing that i can't imagine them doing, but i can't completely see the "player" doing either (compare with going to sans -which kris doesnt know- and going "SANS!" because of course the player would know sans), like THATS one of the reasons i feel like there's someone else in there. the weird robotic merciless actions. if im going super meta it feels like there'd be someone else like writing the choices into existence for us to pick you know? gaster probably? god i need to read more gaster theories i completely sidestepped the gaster shit bc i wasnt interested. anyway just spitballing

-(looks at big shot guy) please dont make him the next tumblr guy i beg you

-obligatory "queen was great" mention if only because this part made me laugh a little bit too hard

that was a lot. thank you for letting me talk

#ask tag #deltarune #deltarune spoilers #snowgrave spoilers

[zelkams-art]

#ShowYourProcess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

I was tagged by @milkcrates​, who showed her process of making this gorgeous piece with Wei Wuxian and little A-Yuan!! It was awesome to see how it came to life - and thank you for tagging me! ✨

So I got tagged to show how this Yunmeng brothers + golden core art happened! I already included the digital sketch for it in my sketch vs final compilation, but I guess I can show some more!

This is gonna be long because I like talking a lot, so putting the rest under a cut!

1. Planning

SO.  A golden core pic was on my to-draw list as soon as I finished watching the show. I had a WIP of a different pic for that waiting, but actually I noticed that a very similar thing has already been drawn, so that was kinda dropped. But I’m glad I waited until the idea for this one slapped me! It was pretty much a moment of “w a i t a second” and I had to grab a random piece of paper to sketch it while I still had it in my head.

This is the sketch - as you can see from the coffee stains, it has been through some stuff. On the left I actually tried out some different ideas for the golden core - the 1st one was the winner and led to the whole leaking/water/rain theme. I ended up mirroring the whole sketch because I didn’t want Wei Wuxian’s hand to cover Jiang Cheng’s front hair wisp, as that would make that area too crowded.

Meta-wise: I wanted to show that the whole thing was kept as a secret from Jiang Cheng. But we also knew about it - so Wei Wuxian is breaking the 4th wall and looking at us [the audience] directly, shushing to keep it a secret as well. Then there’s his hand hovering over the blindfold - it was included in the show, but also sprinkles in that extra symbolism. Then there’s the rain - the sky crying for the two brothers, so you’re not sure if those are raindrops or tears on their faces + lotus pond for the Yunmeng vibes. As for the golden core, I wanted to make it kinda messy and leaking like blood + shining and make it the main light source of the piece. Also kinda like a glow stick liquid.

I also like finding fitting music to go with my art and this one was actually supposed to go with Avicii’s Hey Brother, but when I was looking it up on Spotify I saw Kodaline’s Brother right above, gave it a listen and then the lyrics hit me. So I already knew that they’re gonna go in the caption. Also apparently it’s like The Song for them and yeah, makes sense.

2. Creating

2.1 Set up and tools

I use Paint Tool SAI + Wacom Intuos S to do all my art! The entire pic was made on a 2000 x 3000 px canvas, since I don’t like to work too big because of limited brush sizes in SAI + I don’t want to torture my laptop, as my art takes up quite a lot of processing power with a lot of layers and modes and sometimes things like to crash at the final steps 😬.

2.2 Planning and composition

So I started off by doing a digital sketch and focusing on the composition a bit more - I wanted something geometrical, so I went for the diamond shape with Wei Wuxian’s silhouette and the placement of the lotuses. Also the composition is vertical, all the important info is in the middle column - you could cut off 2/3 of the picture and it would still tell the story.

2.3 Lineart

Then I did the lineart over the sketch layer (there was a more detailed one than the “planning” sketch, but it looks like I deleted it once I finished). I usually draw more than I have to and on separate layers, so that I can move/modify things easily later - for example JC’s headpiece here didn’t really make it that much into the final piece but It Was There. Once I was satisfied with the lineart, I cleaned it by erasing overlapping things, like Wei Wuxian’s clothes behind Jiang Cheng’s head.  

2.4 Planning the lighting

After doing the lineart I blocked the characters with a single color and planned the lighting. The golden core is the main light source here, so it dictates which parts are gonna be lighter and which darker (although there is gonna some ambient occlusion from the background + reflected light from the water). I also added water and lotuses in the foreground + painted the background.

2.5 Shading the characters

After that, I started shading the pic. I usually do two steps here - one with “base” shading - focusing on the details and values based on the light source, then the mood shading with more coloring - based on the setting the characters are in. The first one is mostly done with the Multiply tool and base layer blending/painting, the second mostly with layer modes like Overlay and Luminosity. I also colored some parts of the lineart to make the shapes stand out (see: wwx’s front hairs)

2.6 Environment and touch-up details

Then it was time for the water and lotuses + the “special effects” for the rain and all the stuff associated with it - water splashes, mist, sparkling drops! Also some more mood lighting. Lots of new layers to keep everything organized and separated.

2.7 Finished pic

And done! After finishing I usually adjust the contrast/gamma/saturation of my art (or just edit it all in curves) + sometimes sharpen it to bring out details → I make a few different versions and pick the one that works the best. Although with this pic I was satisfied with the raw result so no major changes happened.

3. Posting

For posting I always scale down the pictures and upload them as a draft on this art blog. Then I check if things look okay on mobile as well - from what I’ve noticed my phone makes everything more warm-toned. Depending on the time I finish drawing, I either post it right away or wait until the next day, when there is more traffic on tumblr. I finished this one around 8PM of my local time, which is fine - so I posted it right away (also I was just excited, couldn’t wait 😅)!

As caption I used the lyrics from Brother by Kodaline, as mentioned before!

So yeah, that would be it! 

If you made it till this part - thank you and I hope you have an awesome day! ✨

Let’s keep the artist vibes here - I’m gonna tag (not 5 ppl but shh) @still-snowing​ and this piece that still breaks my heart @driszol​ and this Song Jiyang pic that lives in my head to this day @kushexi​​ and this pic with fox Wei Wuxian and A-Yuan bc it still makes me melt → no pressure of course! or if you want to do some other piece that’s awesome as well!

#showyourprocess #[and now tags for my own blog →] #not art #art process #oh this was fun - thank you for tagging me!! #always crying abt those self-sacrificial siblings :'')

[lilypixels]

Izzy’s Dag-Dag The Artist… Tag

By @morgynemberisagenderfluiddaddy

~ Rules ~

Show us a rendition of yourself in your own art! Can be anything! Sims render? Random stick figure? Picrew? Go nuts! (Just be sure to tag the artist if you use someone else’s picrew!!!!) Tag the blogs you want to know, and don’t be a dick that’s it! Also, feel free to answer as vague or in-depth as you want. And if you don’t want to answer a question for any reason just don’t vibe with it! Skip it if you wanna! Also make sure you tag me and use #dagdagtheartisttag so I can see it!!!!!!!!

This is a bit long so i’m just gonna...

~Questions~

1.) Do you prefer to be referred to by your name or blog name? Both are fine! I don’t care much about what people refer to me as in general and have had someone on here call me lily once

2.) Where are you from? I won’t say exact, but I live in the middle of USA (I can’t wait to move-)

3.) Do you have pets? 👀 Yes! 3 dogs and 2 cats, tho only one cat is truly “mine”

4.) Tell us about your “dream”. uhh like where I want to be in life? what I want to do? um I’m still working on the exact job title, but I wish to do research at a natural history/science museum (sorta like archives or collections manager, but neither of those are quite right i think). Otherwise, I just hope to adopt and even foster kids cause my life would not be complete without little ones :3 (spouse/partner optional lol) 

5.) Aside from art, what are your hobbies? Randomly researching things that grasp my attention, games...lots of games, reading, watching tv, coloring (wait does that count as art-), uhhh spacing out

6. )Does anyone irl know about your blog? yeah, but mostly just know about, not like see my posts i guess

7.)Do you know anyone from your blog irl? not outside of just chatting on discord

8.) What are some fun facts about you? I’ve had some poems published before (it was with entering a poetry contest), I have surprisingly good balance, my brain is not properly awake/functioning until 10am which has led to me almost using soap as toothpaste a few times too many, I have a birthmark on my finger (bonus: it sorta changes color/how noticeable it is depending on how hot or cold I am lol, i call it a mini thermometer cause of this), apparently Lion King was my Disney movie obsession as a kid...oh and I have a certificate in cryptozoology lolz

9.) What’s your day job? i work as a private nanny/glorified babysitter (i don’t live with them or drive but work regular hours through week and as needed; even join the occasional vacation with them)

10.) Do you have a celebrity look alike? i don’t think so; a girl in high school once said I look like Cameron Diaz tho-

11.) What’s your aesthetic? for my blog I think it’s becoming like dark academia meets cottage core?? idk for myself...who knows

12.) What kind of artist are you? the tired kind lol

13.) How did you get into your form of art? if we’re looking at sims, uhhh well I just happened to learn about cc one day, then happened upon simblr, saw edits, and thought I’d give a try cause I can’t draw but I need a creative outlet so this worked for me

14.) What do you watch/listen/read/anything else while you create? if I do anything, its listen to music; music is generally random based on what I feel like but more recently its been 2d anime groups (idolish7, hypnosis mic, etc)

15.) What is your favorite of your own creations so far?  lets see...this, this, and this edit wise I think

16.) How would you describe your art style? idk chaos

17.) What is more satisfying to you coloring or outlining? coloring, I like coloring 

18.) What meme would you use to describe yourself?

19.) What character from any media form do you most identify with? oh gosh uhhhh there’s a few but I’ll say Iori and Sogo from Idolish7 since they come to mind first lol. Iori is a fellow aquarius who hides his interests and agonizes over past slipups even a year later, others have legit moved on but he’s still stuck on it (that was true moment I was like “omg you are aquarius” lol cause yeah meee). Sogo i heavily relate to as well cause he’s,,,very nice and hides his own feelings, putting others before himself (but when right buttons get pushed, he can be scary lol) so yeah, those two

20.) If you were on the run, what would you change your name to? I’ve never thought of this...no clue

21.) Have you ever or do you want to change blog names? I have changed names, yes; I used to be silverine-sims but after a time i didn’t ~vibe~ with it

22.) God forbid Tumblr decides to pull a MySpace and lets us have page songs, what song would you choose?  page songs like adding playlist to blog? i mean its possible already with bit of coding and I used to have one set up but uh one song huh? gosh um I guess Twisted Hearts by tasuku hatanaka; it was op for Moriarty the Patriot s2 and I’m pretty obsessed with it rn 

23.) Oh yeah, I’m still on the MySpace train and I’m starting discourse! Who’s your top 8? my brain refuses to think and rank; i have trouble with choices and that extends to favorites,,

24.) Did you understand those references or did you have to look them up? (I’m fully aware I’m ancient, but are you?) i know of myspace but otherwise i have no clue what all it entailed

25.) One last question; why are you like that? I grew up watching Secret Saturdays, He-Man, Teen Titans, Danny Phantom, and Spongebob idk what to tell ya ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Dag dag?

Now tag tag!!!

I know not all of you will do this or was tagged by izzy already but I’m tagging everyone I can think of anyway-

@cyansimblr @neriney @lunchsims @waysims @klayde @sinfulwunders @void-imp @ladykendalsims @lazysunjade @almost-spring @smolteabirb @lunaziie @clumsyghostie​ and uh uh anyone else cause its too early and my brain just quit

#for the card thing #i was gonna do playlist but then id have to think more and choose a few songs from many #for characters itaru from a3 was another one #but two i picked maybe work more #also what does dag dag mean?? #or is it a play on tag to rhyme?? #tagged #tag thing #was gonna use simself for this #buttt i deleted after that one dream self tag #and photo from it wasnt cutting it #so used this picrew one #from another tag lol #dagdagtheartisttag

[wolfinshipclothing]

SIGH. So, i'm an actual ass because i accidentally deleted an ask.

It was about the Angel of Death Anne AU. I wrote the answer, tried to save it for later and now i can't find the goddamn ask.

The questions were (and i am not exactly quoting):

what is Anne relationship with Littlepot, the Grim Reaper from the Hallowen special?

Will Polly or Anne's parent's hear her voice?

So, i don't know if this answer will reach the right anon, but i hope it does.

-

First of all, thanks a lot for asking!

Second, I'M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. Work and college have been a pain.

I'll start with your second question, which was sort of answered here and here, but esentially Littlepot is just THE Reaper, from which Anne is just a fragment. DEATH took different shapes to fit the living person's perception on how DEATH looks like. Anne doesn't have this power yet. Long story short: he's Anne's supernatural dad.

As for question 1... well it took me a while because you actually inspired me to write a fic about the Boonchuy's hearing Anne's voice!

It was originally supposed to be something short and cute, but ideas just keep popping into my head and i kinda added plot into it.

So, i know its probably not what you expected, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

(Also, Mr and Mrs Boonchuy name's are Aran and On in this fic)

EDIT: Added AO3 and FF links because reading fics in tumblr is pure pain.

---

Anne was six years old the first time Aran Boonchuy heard her special Voice.

He was on cashier duty at the restaurant when a terrible scream tore his earbuds—and all of the customers'— apart. It was Anne. Aran threw the change to the face of the man he was serving and flew to the kitchen. How wife, On, was sitting on the ground, holding a weeping Anne. Marcy and Sasha were there too. Anne's little friends had come for a playdate but the Boonchuys had work. Not that it mattered —the little girls loved to play in the kitchen. Marcy had a knack for setting on fire things that were not flammable, and Sasha just loved to play Knight-And-Princesses with actual knives —she was always the knight. Having the girls in the kitchen was a constant pain in the butt for the Boonchuys but endless fun for the girls.

No one was laughing now. On was fine; Marcy and Sasha seemed alright too. The only one not fine was Anne. She let out a particularly long wail and Aran’s heart nearly stopped.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Aran looked accusingly at the other girls.

Sasha gasped and seemed ready to yell a protest, but Anne took the mic from her.

“She’s going to die,” Anne whimpered.

That phrase became one of the Top Five Creepy Things Anne had ever said. And boy, it was a long list.

“Die? W-who’s going to die honey?” Asked Aran

Anne lifted her miniature finger. She pointed it at Marcy. Then descended to point at the critter in Marcy's hands.

Let's be honest; as a restaurant owner, Aran knew you were not supposed to have animals in the kitchen. Not living, breathing, disease-giving ones. But he figured out the three little girls with On could take care of Marcy’s pet for a few hours

Also, it was a stinking turtle, for crying out loud.

"Anne, don't say things like that. You're going to scare Marcy," On reprimanded her daughter.

Marcy wasn't scared as much as uncomfortable and wanting to hide from all the undesired attention. But this was Marcy's de facto look, so it was hard to know what she was thinking.

“But it’s true!” Anne retorted and went back to her wailing, muffled only by On’s tight grip on her.

Anne was inconsolable until Sasha rubbed a hand over her curls. It was like an OFF button.

"You're being dumb, Anne," said Sasha in that particular 'you better listen up' tone she often used. "Don't you remember? Marcy told us turtles live forever. Right Marcy?”

Again, it was like a button was pressed, because Marcy began to ramble. "Yeah, it's true! They can live up to 100 years. And Mr. Matt is just a baby. He will grow with us and be with us forever. See? He's fine."

To prove the point, Marcy brought the turtle to Anne's face. Mr. Matt stretched his neck to take a peck at Anne. Then retreated back inside its shell.

Aran never spoke about it, and neither did On, but they both knew Anne's pupils weren't regular spheres like anyone else. She had skulls for pupils. And at that moment they shined bright and smiled sadly. The air got cold as Anne spoke in an otherworldly voice.

“NO. IT WILL DIE IN A WEEK.”

The strangest thing was, Aran could hear Anne's voice; but at the same time, he heard his wife's screaming. He'd heard it before. Six years ago, when the doctors dragged On from the maternity ward to the operating room, because little Anne had gotten the umbilical cord tied around her neck and they had to take her out now or both mother and baby will die. Aran told his wife everything will be fine, as the nurses held him down so he won't follow her. Then she screamed. Out of pain, out of fear. Out of rage because Anne wasn’t even born yet and she could die.

Aran lost his father as a young boy. But he had to wait until that day to know the fear of death. Anne's voice brought that memory back like a fist in the face. He shared a look with his wife; did she hear it too? He would have to wait to know it.

After expressing the cynical omen, Anne went back to her usual self; the air in the kitchen slowly warmed as Anne calmed down.

Aran didn’t flinch when, one week later, he heard from Marcy’s father that Marcy’s turtle died. ‘Older than what the clerk said. What a jerk! Can you believe it?’, rambled David Wu and Aran pretended to listen, but his blood had gotten cold.

It was too much. Too big of a charge for a little girl. And out of all little girls, why did it have to be his Anne?

On heard Anne’s Voice several times through the years and, although it went against her vows, she never told her husband what it sounded like.

Until that disastrous tennis match. It was the finals and Anne had been killing it the whole tournament. Not literally though, but in skills. She was a natural at tennis. But at that final game, something went off. On lost count of how many times Anne felt, or how many easy hits she missed. It was a total loss. Zero points scored on Anne's side. On didn't care a bit about the crowd's comments about how there was more dirt on Anne's body than on the floor, nor the sneer remarks of the winning girl's mother. All she cared about was Anne.

They were in the lockers, Anne seated on the corner of a bench. She was small for a ten-year-old. There was that 'about to cry, but don't want to' look on her face.

On sent Aran to warm up the van —a pathetic excuse to be left alone with her daughter. Often, Anne would be more open to her mother than to her father; other days, the opposite was true. On hoped today was a mom's day.

She picked a towel and dampened it with water, rubbing the material over Anne’s dirty face.

"It's no big deal, honey. We all have bad days," she said, although bad was selling it short. "There'll be other tournaments. You just have to work on your speed-"

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore,” Anne whimpered, eyes red from holding down the tears.

That made it for On. “Come on, Anne, you can’t give up now. Not after your first tournament. Not after a bad game. Not after your first bad game! Some people have to work their whole life to achieve what you did this season. You have real talent, and I won't see you waste it." On firmly scraped the thick layer of dirt covering her face. Anne was hissing like Domino on bath day. “I want to know what happened today. Are you mad? Hungry? Low on sugar? Cramps?”

Anne hugged her legs to her chest.

“Anne, look at me.”

Anne tilted her head even further away.

On lifted a hand. “Anne-“

Anne flinched and was in the middle of 'Don't touch…!' when On’s hand squeezed her shoulder. The world turned grey.

“She’ll never win because she’s a failure.”

On nearly jumped. Neither woman had said that.

Leaning against the lockers was a man, maybe in his thirties, with long hair held in place by a headband, and dotting a tennis uniform. The grayish tone of the world and the blue hue the man haloed revealed him as a ghost. That and the fact that his head was backward 180 degrees, meaning he was giving them their back and staring down at them at the same time. He had that obnoxious 'I want my order done by yesterday' customer face.

On, who was more used to spooks than a regular restaurant owner should calmly asked him: "Hello. Who might you be?"

“Nadil," the ghost bowed forward, but since his head was backward, it kind of lost its effect. Lifting one's butt was hardly a way to start a conversation "Ralph Nadil. Tennis player extraordinaire! Number one in all magazines in 1976. I was fated to be the best in the world. Until the 1976 tournament final.” He straightened his head with his hands so it was facing the right way. As soon as it let it go, it whipped back to its unnatural position. “It's funny, these necks of us, aren’t they? One small fall and your career’s over. As is your life.” He hunched over like a whining child. "I was this close to the US Open! Unlike your daughter here.”

“Excuse me?” On snapped all too fast, in the same voice she used when the health inspector showed his face by the restaurant.

“Just as I said. She’s a lost cause. A bad shot. A loser.”

Anne covered her reddened ears. A picture formed inside On’s mind. Ghosts were a constant in the Boochuys' life. The spooks were attracted to Anne for some reason. She could hear, see and talk to them. And if Anne touched someone, or someone was touching Anne (like On was now), she could pass that power to the other person. Sounds nice, right? It's not. Having ghosts following your daughter around everywhere she goes is just as stressful as managing a restaurant in this economy. It was easy enough to keep them away from the house; a circle of salt around the perimeter usually did the trick. But they had yet to find something to keep the ghost away when Anne was outside. The whole season was played on smaller courts, but the coordinators picked a semi-pro one for the finals because it was bigger.

"Oh, I get it," On spat. "I take it you've been bothering my daughter the whole game, didn't you?"

"Bothering? I've been trying to help her!" Ralph stomped his feet silently. "This is the court where I died! I think I have the right to give pointers if I feel inclined to. And finally, I had someone who could actually listen to what I had to say. Unfortunately, it had to be your useless-"

On was up and front faster than the time it takes for a match to be lit. Her hand kept squeezing Anne's shoulder. On wanted to see this spook's face when she's done with him.

"Now you're going to listen and listen well because I will only say this once. My daughter is beautiful, talented, and smart. I mean she could have better grades if she worked harder but that's beside the point. AND she's a great tennis player. Definitely better than the other girl, and absolutely better than you. So you're going to apologize to her and then you're going to leave her alone. And I know what you are thinking." She shoved a finger inside Ralph's nose; literally since he was made of ghostly smoke. "You're thinking 'this is an old woman. She can do nothing to me. And yes, I might be old. But my daughter's only ten years old and she can see you. Now, tell me, what do you think her old mother can do to you? Mmh?”

On held a stare-off with Ralph. Eventually, it crossed the ghost's flipped head that a woman with that much self-confidence was either too good at lying or too dangerous to mess with. With this thought in mind, he lifted his hands in defeat, said a pathetic apology to Anne, and backed away until he disappeared behind the wall.

On breathed off. She smiled brightly at Anne and hid her trembling hands behind her back. The world became colorful again.

“Well, that’s over with,” said On and sat next to her daughter. “From now on, I want you to tell me whenever a shriek or a spook or a banshee or whatever is bothering you, alright?”

Anne mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

On shrugged it off. “It’s just a tennis match.”

Anne shook her head over and over. “The kids at school think Marcy and Sasha are weird just for hanging out with me. You guys are haunted by spooks all the time. And I can’t even win a stupid game because I’m… because I’m not…”

Anne’s hands went to her face but it was too late; the tears began to fall freely, as Anne painfully hiccupped. On pulled her daughter to her chest and let her weep. Then she heard it.

“I JUST WANTED TO DO SOMETHING… SOMETHING TO FEEL NORMAL. BUT I’M NOT. I-I’M SORRY”

On too started to weep. She'd heard the sound of a crying baby. The same wail Anne made as she finally began to breathe, after several minutes of infinite silence, the day the doctors did a C-section on On. It was the sound of Anne coming back to life, and it should've been the best sound in the world but it haunted On in her sleep because it reminded her Anne had nearly died. From that point forward, every time Anne cried, no matter how insignificant the reason, On remembered how she'd almost lost her before having her.

Never was that memory as strong as it was now. It felt like Anne was dying in her arms again. But she wasn't, because her little Anne was a fighter. There are things in this world, things that are coming for her, from which On couldn't protect her. Anne will need to be strong

“You’re everything I ever wanted you to be.” On said, slowly and full of pain. “Mine. My Anne. My littlest angel. And you don’t have to play tennis again.”

Anne laughed childishly and for a moment it felt that all the monsters —the outside ones, and the ones living inside Anne’s head— were gone.

Eventually, Anne did play tennis again. And she won several tournaments. She played in that same court several times. They ran into Ralph every time.

And every time, Ralph would make a turn and fly away like the wind.

Learning Anne was the Angel of Death, the Collector of Souls, the Final Reality, AKA Death itself was, hardly, a surprise. Honestly, the giant, talking, anthropomorphic frogs were way more of a freak-out. Anne being the Grim Reaper? It was so obvious one was left to wonder how nobody figured it out before.

But the bag was out of the cat —or however, the saying went. It was a blessing; the truth. Anne really had grown out as a person. And as the Grim Reaper. She obviously didn't need her parent's protection anymore.

Truthfully, since Anne came back, the Boonchuys' haven't heard her Voice, not even once. Until the very moment, they thought she was going to die.

Mr. X has been a pain in the ass ever since Anne returned to Earth. The FBI Agent was onto the Plantars, them being actual 'aliens'. And he was onto Anne too. It was hilarious. Poor guy didn't even have a clue of what Anne really was. What her 'job' was. He wasn't too bright.

Or so it seemed. Then he showed up with a dozen FBI vans and a hundred agents. Anne went for X's neck —not that she could be blamed; On would've done the same. Then Mr. X pulled out a baton. It was electrified and shone with bright, sickening white light; like a hospital neon sign. With a single touch of the weapon, Anne was reduced to a convulsing form on the ground. The patch of skin the weapon had touched was burnt and black. It healed quickly but left a nasty mark. X took the Plantars into 'custody', and he would've taken Anne too if it weren't for Aran's reflexes at dragging Anne to the van, and On’s mad-driving skills in getting away.

So, to recapitulate: X had taken the Plantars hostages to a secret FBI compound where he would… Well, let's not think about the details now. The portal Terri had built to bring the Plantars home was kind of a bust. And, of course, X now had a weapon that could harm and or kill Anne. Where did he get it, it was anyone's guess. Perhaps the Killer Frobot that was sent to exterminate Anne; that had been the only time something gave Anne a pause.

Weapon or not, Anne wouldn't let the Plantars at X's hands. Neither could her parents. Family never left family behind. And so, together, the three Boonchuys devised a plan. And when Anne wasn't listening, Aran and on devised another, secondary plan.

Plan A was a success! The Boonchuys, the Plantars, and all the allies they’d gathered escaped the FBI compound, reached the storehouse where they’d built the portal, and with the new power source they 'acquired'  for it, the Plantars would be home in a flash. Everything worked well.

That's the funny thing with life. When you’re down, the only place to go is up. And when you're too high, the fall hits harder.

Everything happened too fast. The portal was too small for even a hand to go through. A hundred FBI agents, armed to the teeth, invaded the building. And as soon as he spotted Anne, X slashed her with his baton. One attack to make her fall, and a second one to keep her down. Both times in the face. Anne howled in pain. She was conscious but badly harmed, twin burnt marks like an x crossed her face.

On and Aran had to watch it all. Their allies were being held down like common criminals. The portal coming to a close. And Anne, their precious Anne, their little girl, lying on the floor, hurt and scared.

X taunted them. "Not bad, Anne, not bad. You really are full of tricks, aren't you? I'm tempted to have you dissected as well, just to see what makes you tick." X lifted Anne's face with the tip of the baton, making the girl hissed. "But in the end, you failed. Because no matter what you do, or what you are. In your heart, you're still. Just. A kid.”

The smell of burning flesh filled the air. On didn't have the guts to look. Then X gasped.

Anne had grabbed the baton with her bare hand.

“You’re right X. I am just a kid,” Anne’s smile was calm and pure. “But today reminded me that with the right people by my side, I can do ANYTHING.”

X didn’t even get to yell ‘what the-‘ before the baton split into a million pieces under Anne's grip. The surge of power sent everyone flying against the walls, blinding them with that sickening white light.

When the Boonchuys’ came back to their senses, they saw an Angel.

Well, kind of. There was Anne, but she wasn't just Anne. Her clothes had morphed into a black and golden suit of the finest kind, with a golden chest plate engraved with scythes protecting her chest, with metal shoulder pads and boots of the same material. A cape made of the night sky fell from her shoulders to the ground; shooting stars danced down its length. A circlet of black fire, in the shape of a lotus flower, hovering above her head, completed the royal look. One thing that caught On’s attention was the blue tennis gloves. They were similar to the ones On had got her, so many years ago. They didn't really fit the queenly outfit, but hey, when you are Death and can create your own clothes on the spot, you become immediately immune to fashion rules. Then there were the wings. Golden, dragonfly wings, sprouted from Anne's back, nearly as large as she was tall (and she seemed taller now than ever before).

So yes, she was an angel. The Angel of Death. On and Aran’s angel.

Oh, X was gonna get it. He realized it too and crawled back away from Anne.

“What are you?” X asked, almost offended by his own ignorance.

Anne laughed and made a show of flapping her pair of wings and showing off her cape of stars. Her whole body haloed black light.

“TAKE A WILD GUESS.”

It was anyone’s guess what X heard, but both Aran and On heard the same thing.

Nothing. Silence. Anne’s words reached their brains without going through their ears first. It was an empty room that could never be used again. A house without a teen’s laughter. A final 'I love you' that will never be said. It humbled and broke both adults to tears.

Being done with X nonsense, Anne kicked him. X flied like a ragdoll right at the Boonchuys’ feet. Just where they wanted him. They rushed to hold the man down, On making the special point of faceplanting him, breaking his ugly-ass glasses. The other agents, seeing their boss being bossed by a Divinely-Powered teen and her parents, did the smart thing and surrendered. Anne hummed and lifted her hands. Tendrils of darkness, black tentacles made of goo, emerged from the ground, tying down all the agents. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

And they were finally, finally actually safe. That was the good news.

Bad news? The portal was a complete flunk. Terri and Dr. Jan worked desperately on the controls and the structure, but they only got it to spark once before it turned off for real.

“I’m so sorry guys. I… it requires more energy than we thought,” said Dr. Jan. “I don’t know if we can even reopen it.”

Through all this, Anne stood in front of the portal, still wearing her new form. Her dragonfly wings flapped quickly as she rubbed her chin.

“Maybe we don’t need to. Maybe there’s another way,” said Anne and her voice still carried that otherworldly silence, but it didn't hurt nor did it sadden the Boonchuys. Like Anne was more in control now.

“Give me some room.” She ordered and everyone backed against the walls. 

Anne joined hands around the black lotus flower over her head. From it emerged a large staff, a whole head taller than Anne, all black, with a heart-shaped golden stone at the top. Nobody gasped when a large blade, in the shape of a crescent moon emerged from the heart. Anne twirled the scythe above her head and shadows danced around her. Everyone was pushed further away as the room became bigger, and the sheer strength of Anne's gravity push keep them stuck to the walls that keep getting farther and farther away.

 On and Aran could barely see when Anne lifted the scythe above her head. Then she sliced it down and the sharpest cut ever was heard. Like scissor-cutting a steel beam. At the same time, the room shrunk down to its original size, pulling everyone down and at the portal machine's feet.

"I think my bowels and my lungs just shifted places," said Ally while Jess patted her back.

Hop Pop beamed. "It might have, but it also did wonders for my back." He made a wide circle with his hips. Something inside him cracked. "Eh, never mind," he said.

Sprig shouted. "Guys, look at that!"

There was a… gate? Chasm? Hole? It was hard to describe because it didn't resembled anything the Boonchuys had seen before. In any case, a fissure, in the slight shape of a triangle, had opened, and on the other side, a familiar frog world could be seen. Anne had just cut open a portal to another dimension.

Molly Jo broke the silence. "No offense, Frogman, but I think she should've been the superhero." She teased Sprig.

"Give me a break, would ya? I have cool ghost powers too! Sort of… but I can't open portals to another world."

Polly broke in. "Yeah, cool power and all, but it would've been great if you had used it like, one or two weeks ago. I'm totally complaining, by the way."

Anne gave a meek laugh. "I know," she said in her usual voice. "I thought it was possible but I never knew how. I guess I was holding myself down. But not anymore," she turned to face her parents. It was strange, how someone so majestic could look so fragile. "This is me. I mean, part of me. And the other part too. Human and Reaper. I'm the whole I can be. I hope it's ok?"

On caressed Anne's cheek. It was freezing cold but it quickly warmed to On's touch.

 "Yellow has always been your color. And everyone looks good in black," On joked, and why not? She was happy.

Anne groaned t the joke but didn't try to hide her smile.

There wasn't much left to say. Hop Pop said his farewell to his actor friend. Polly rambled to Jess and Ally about all the upgrades they'll do to Frobo when she returns to Earth. Sprig high-fived Molly Jo (who, on second thought, was too young to come to this mission, to begin with). Dr. Jan and Terri were too busy doing circles around the gate, going on about how "impossible" this should be.

They haven't known Anne long enough if they still believe in 'impossibles'.

Speaking of, it was time for Anne to say goodbye to her parents. From the look on her face, this was even more painful than she ever thought it would be.

On showed Anne the backpack she had brought for her. "I packed some stuff for you. Just the basics. Phone and charger, toothbrush and paste, your hormones so you don't have to be without for months again, and some spare clothes and shoes." She blushed. "Oh, but I guess those are useless now you can make your own clothes."

Anne held dearly onto the backpack. "I'll make sure to use it all. Especially the toothbrush. It's pretty lightweight, 'tho. I figured you would've stuffed it with photos to remind you guys with," Anne said to her dad.

Aran's smile was wicked. "Oh, you won't need anything to remember us…"

"Because we're coming with you." On finished brightly.

This was Plan B! Which was essentially Plan A with an extra step.

"WHAT?" Anne shouted, rattling the walls and cracking the windows. Dust fell from the ceiling and burnt over her fire circlet.

"We decided this a while ago," Aran elaborated. "You're not our little girl anymore, we know that. You've proven yourself capable of anything you put your mind to and more. In fact, if we go we'll probably just get in your way and you'll have to prevent us from getting eaten by some kind of giant monster or something."

Aran's speech didn't help their case at all. Then On took the reins.

"But we also decided that we can no longer go back to that house without you. Knowing you're far away, fighting in a war, saving people. I may be selfish but I can't sit by and let you do it, not if I can be there myself. Even if all we can do is cheer for you and give you thumbs up, then that's what we'll do"

"We'll be the best thumb up-givers ever." Aran lifted both thumbs high up.

On touched her daughter's face. X's wound had healed but the x-shaped scar over Anne's eyes remained. On traced her fingers over it, wondering if it'll ever heal.

"Even if you don't need us, we still need you. Please, let us be with you."

Sprig and Polly jumped in to the talk, by jump-hugging Aran's legs. "You really mean it, Mr. B? This won't be the last time we see you?" said Sprig, teary-eyed.

Aran patted the kids' backs. "Daww, of course, you won't lose us. We won't let you guys go that easily. You're all family now."

Even as he said this, Aran knew Anne had the final word. If she asked them to stay behind, if she said they would just get in the middle, and that they didn't know what they were doing, they would do as she said

Anne examined the portal, wings flapping slowly. "You know I won't be back, right? Not in a good while. Not until everything is over."

They knew. They'd never been more sure about something ever since they decided to move to the United States. They had stood their ground to Aran's mother, and now they stood their ground to their daughter.

Anne got red-faced and jumped into their arms, tying her parents in a soft, weak embrace. Like she was still a child that needed comfort.

"You guys are the best," said Anne, the little skulls inside her eyes crying fat tears.

On chuckled. "Well, you have to get it from someone."

The choice was made and the portal was open. No reason in wasting more time. The ladies of the Thai temple told them they'll take good care of the restaurant —and of X. The agent shuddered and turned green-faced.

The Plantars stood in front of the portal, to the left. The Bonchuys did too, to the right. Anne stood in the middle, joining both families. On the other side was a new world. A new land, with new people. A new culture. A new life they'll need to get used to.

But Aran and On were no strangers to that and joining hands with their daughter, they took a step forward.

To their new home. Their new fate. 

#angel of death anne #anne boonchuy #anon ask #ask #mr boonchuy #mrs boonchuy

[tickotaku]

Head cannons for Chuuya, Fyodor, and Tetcho in a relationship with an S/O.

Hello Anon! Thank you for waiting! This is my first time really writing and posting head-cannons, so they may not be exceptional. I ended making it pretty gender-neutral, and it doesn’t really have an intentional structure. Regardless, I hope you enjoy them! 

I’ve been sitting on the idea of writing on Tumblr for a while, so any feedback (positive or negative) is greatly appreciated. If you liked something or thought I could have done something differently. Even pointing out grammatical or punctuation errors can help me grow as a writer. (And I definitely have room to grow) Anyway, if you have any thoughts or tips at all, leave a comment or let me know somehow. 

Now that that’s said, enjoy! (Warning; Possible manga spoilers(?))

Chuuya Nakahara:

It takes a while for Chuuya to even consider being in a romantic relationship.

      He has a lot of responsibilities as it is, and having an S/O may damage his reputation and make him look soft.

      However, once he falls in love, he couldn’t care less about reputation. He can still be a ruthless mafioso while protecting his lover.

      If his S/o confesses first, he’d be stunned for a minute. Once he’s processed the info, he’ll be sweet as heck about accepting their feelings.

      If Chuuya confesses first, it’ll be like a grand proposal. We’re talking roses, music in the background, and a romantic poem.

     Chuuya will protect his S/O no matter what and make sure they feel loved.

      He’ll try not to go overboard with presents, but to him, his lover deserves the world. He’ll frequently leave notes of encouragement, baked treats, and little things. Holidays or occasions however, will have extravagant gifts. Jewelry, limited edition merchandise from their favorite series, a private island, etc. etc. He’s filthy rich, why not?

      If his S/O isn’t already in the mafia, it’s going to stay that way. He wants then in as little danger as possible. He knows they can take care of themselves, but he is not taking any chances.

    He loves pet names.

     If he gets flustered, he’ll push his hat down on his lovers head so the brim covers their eyes. Once he recovers he won’t shut up about how cute they look in his hat.

      Call him short, just try. It doesn’t matter how tall his S/O is. If they joke about his height, next thing they know, they’ll be on the ground under him with him smirking down at them.

      And then he’ll kiss them as revenge.

     His kisses are often quick pecs, but once he can get a break and slow down, they’re long, soft, and loving.

      If his S/O is ever stressed or overwhelmed, he’ll sit them down on the couch and just hold them.

     Once he gets them to open up about whatever they’re feeling, he’ll just rub their back and listen. Once they’re done, he’ll encourage them and try to offer solutions.

     Late night rides on his motorcycle can be the perfect stress reliever. He’ll zoom and jump to see if he can get his S/O to laugh to squeak. Bonus points if they grip his waist.

      He rarely smokes once he’s in a relationship. He prefers spending time with his lover to calm him down.

     He can be a bit hot-headed during an argument, but if he goes too far, he stops immediately. Even if he still thinks he’s right, they’re more important. He’ll revisit the topic later once both sides are calmer.

   He loves dancing with his S/O under the stars. He’ll activate his ability and hold his lover close as they dance among the stars.

Fyodor Dostoevsky:

   Falling in love wasn’t exactly something Fyodor had planned on ever doing.

    Even once he enters a relationship, that’s not exactly how he sees it. He was simply intrigued and wanted them, so he went after what he wanted.

     He’s not exactly an honest boyfriend, but he tries not to outright lie to his S/O. That doesn’t mean he won’t, he just usually tries to change the topic or twist the truth.

     He doesn’t really try to hide who he is from his S/O, but he won’t give them much say in what he does anyway.

     He keeps a few tabs on his S/O, but other than that, he lets them do as they please. As long as he gets to be around them and know what they’re doing.

    He won’t ask them to get involved in his work, but if they show interest, he’ll give them mini missions to take care of.

    He enjoys playing games with his lover, especially cards.  He’s always amused at how determined they are to win, only to be utterly defeated. On occasion, he’ll let them win just to see their eyes shine as they gloat about their “victory”

     If he’s in a bad mood, he’ll tend to push his lover away. Although, he won’t stop them if they hug him or want to spend time with him. Because he actually appreciates it

      He’ll pretend that he forgot his S/O’s birthday. He keeps a completely straight face as he sees them look over at him repeatedly out of the corner of his eye. He eventually pulls some clever trick to reveal a present, and soaks in the way his lover goes from gloom to delight over something he sees as a trivial thing.

      But he loves them, and that’s not trivial to him. Although he rarely says it right out.

      He rarely kisses his lover, but it’s all made up for when he does. Because it’s the only time he really shows any kind of vulnerability, and they’re so genuine it’s more telling of his love than any words could convey.  

     Fyodor may not actually say “I love you” until he and his lover have been together for a long time, but if his S/O really listens, the message gets through.

Tetchō Suehiro:

   Tetcho is a bit odd so there may be a few bumps here and there when it comes to a relationship at first.

   Early on, he doesn’t really treat his S/O much different than he treats anyone else.

   He’s takes his job seriously and can seem cold and distant due to his generally stoic nature.

   But a bit of communication can do wonders.

  Once he gets a firm grasp the concept of “dating”, he’ll grow to be more affectionate.

   PDA doesn’t really bother him, and as long as his S/O has no complaints, he’ll be as affectionate as he wants in public.

    He likes to hold his lover’s hand and keep them close to him.

  He’ll often stop and just study his S/O

   How they walk or smile, the little tells they have, any nervous habits, Tetcho could just sit and watch them for hours. He’s not trying to be creepy, he just loves everything about them.

   The first time he kisses his S/O is sudden and casual.

He thinks they look so adorable and feels so grateful that they’re with him, so he leans over and kisses them gently.

   His S/O may be shocked, but he just continues on as if nothing happened.

   He’s very blunt and straight forward, so he doesn’t lie to his S/O.

It can be strange how he speaks his mind without hesitation. But if he thinks his S/O looks good in something, or if he randomly remembers how much he loves them, he’ll say it right then with no context.

   He takes things very seriously, so sometimes his S/O will have to be careful what they wish for. He does listen though, so if they’re just honest with him and try to get things across, he’ll get it.

   If they’re talking, he’s listening.

Although he may stop to train or exercise, he’s still listening.

   Speaking of exercise, he will in fact, use his S/O as a lifting weight. So long as they aren’t freaked out by it.

If his lover is lounging somewhere, he’ll just pick them up.

   He’s always touched by how his S/O worries about him every month when his surgery comes around.

   But he assures them its fine and will always let them know when it’s over so they can relax.

   He may try to convince his lover to eat similar-colored foods, but if they don’t want to he doesn’t mind.

   He’ll try not to gross them out with his food, but he still likes his food how he likes it.

#BSD #Bungou Stray Dogs #bsd headcannons #My writing #Tetcho Suehiro #Chuuya Nakahara #Fyodor Dostoyevsky #Writing request #feedback appreciated #Looking at you writer friends #Y'all better point out something I could improve on or I'm gonna be upset #That's mostly a joke #I feel like these are awful but oh well

[soundsof71]

Hey! Album: 'Fleetwood Mac' (1975) - Fleetwood Mac

Hey! Great to hear from you! You (and your previous blog) were my original inspiration for trying to raise my tumblr game to something intentionally curated, and more than that, personally creative. Sorry to have let you down. LOL

What a pleasure to talk about this one, though, an album I think is -- strangely enough -- one of the most underrated albums in the classic rock pantheon!

What’s that you say? An album with “Rhiannon” and “Landslide” underrated?!?! Well it’s true, seriously underrated, at least partly because those two stellar, nay, legendary songs are the first ones that most people think of. There's so much more! It's definitely my favorite Fleetwood Mac album!

My perspective is a little different than the standard rap that Fleetwood Mac didn't properly begin until those two California kids joined the band in 1975, because to me, they started taking off when their first American joined the band, Bob Welch in 1971 for Future Games, which I wrote about at some length here. 

(For the record, Future Games is my second favorite Fleetwood Mac album. Anyone who hasn't checked it out really needs to.)

I’ll leave it at that for now, except to observe that to most of my music nerd friends at the time, I was a latecomer to Fleetwood Mac the band, having completely missed their earlier, bluesier lineups. Indeed, the 1971 lineup was their 8th! And they'd come to #9 in 1972, before landing on lineup #10 in 1975.

They had a bunch of hits on the five albums in this 71-74 range (”Hypnotized” is one that still slays me) that I think hold up as among their best ever. While the album before Fleetwood Mac, Heroes Are Hard to Find didn’t have a hit single, it rose to #34 on the US charts, and got plenty of attention. 

My point is that Fleetwood Mac didn’t spring into existence out of nowhere in 1975. Nor was 1975 necessarily ground zero for the millions of people who bought the album Fleetwood Mac. It came out in the summer of ‘75, but took 15 months to hit #1 in the US! (It peaked at #11 in the UK.) This was a far bigger album in 1976 when all the singles came out, and the band was touring like crazy to support it.

They basically dragged the album to the top of the charts kicking and screaming by the end of THAT year with relentless touring, setting the stage for their true commercial breakthrough with Rumours in 1977, but artistically? I prefer everything about 1975′s Fleetwood Mac.

btw, the music nerds know that Fleetwood Mac was recorded at Sound City Studios, which makes all the difference in the telling of the tale. In 1974, the band had located to Los Angeles, and following the departure of Bob Welch in December, Mick Fleetwood went looking for both a recording studio and a guitarist. 

While getting to know producer Keith Olsen at Sound City (a studio legendary for its drum sound, among other things), Keith played Mick some tracks from an album he’d recorded here a couple of years earlier with a local guitarist and his girlfriend singer, both of whom were also songwriters.

Mick said, I’ll book the studio to record my next album, I’ll book you to produce, and I’ll hire the guitarist....who famously informed Mick that he and his girlfriend were a package deal. All of this happened because of Sound City Studios.

(Here's Mick recording this very album in this very studio.)

Your friend and mine Dave Grohl directed a FANTASTIC documentary about Sound City Studios, a kind of a dump to be honest, but where tons of phenomenal records were made, from After The Gold Rush to Caribou, Damn The Torpedoes, Nevermind, Rage Against The Machine, and most recently, Phoebe Bridgers’ Punisher. Lots and lots of stories about the making of Fleetwood Mac in this movie, and much more. 

Here’s the trailer. The whole movie is available on YT, too! And Amazon Prime, and a bunch of other places. HIGHLY recommended!

So here we go taking directly about Fleetwood Mac.....

the first song from the album i heard: "Over My Head". This was the first single released in the US, remarkably, four months after the album was released! I dunno, did the label not want to sell any albums? Or did they just not get how catchy these tunes were? I have no idea.

And ironically, the band didn't like the choice of "Over My Head" at all, ranking it dead-last in their own considerations of likely singles! I think that this is evidence that they were using heavy drugs much earlier than we thought. LOL

"Over My Head" peaked at #20 in the US, their highest to date by far, although, in some defense of the band's reservations, didn't chart at all in the UK. Saying that it rose to "only" 20 in the charts doesn't begin to describe how heavily it was played, though. A LOT.

do i own the album: Did then, Spotify now. The answer for most of the albums in this round of Asks. :-)

my favorite song: "Over My Head". Look, I admit that this is insane when Fleetwood Mac also includes "Landslide" and "Rhiannon." "Landslide" in particular is maybe one of the greatest songs anyone has ever written, and every single person reading this knows somebody named Rhiannon because of that song. (I've met two.) And hey, "Say You Love Me" was a MUCH bigger hit at the time too... but I'm tellin' ya, "Over My Head" fucks. 

It's the single version that fucks hardest, though, no doubt about it. I was disappointed when I finally bought the album that the version there fades in (NO! THIS IS WRONG) and has a wide mix that diffuses the impact. The radio version is so tight that it's practically mono, and it punches you right upside the head. 

One of my favorite things about listening to "Over My Head" in the past couple of weeks for this Ask is that it's Old School Fleetwood Mac. Chris on piano, Mick on drums, and John McVie with what might be the best bassline that anyone stroked out in 1975. My god, it's a fucking monster, and it just gets hotter as the song progresses. By the end, it's on fire, and you hear it so much better in this tight single mix.

The new guy adds a nice little solo on top of a nice rhythm lick, and he and Stevie add background vocals, but they're not front and center. "Over My Head" is really Christine McVie's showcase, although Fleetwood and Mac really shine too. This would have been a monster hit without the new kids, as indeed it pretty much was. You could say the same thing about "Say You Love Me", which is also all about Christine's songcraft, and a voice like no other, then or now.

Here's my edit of a lovely Mick Putland photo of Christine McVie from a couple of years earlier.

I guarantee that it's been way too long since you heard the in-your-face single version of "Over My Head". On Spotify, you can find it on the couple of Deluxe Editions of Fleetwood Mac (here's one), and it's also on the anthology, The Very Best of Fleetwood Mac, which I've embedded here. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gw-lIt1ILzk

least favorite song: "I'm So Afraid." I'm so afraid not. LOL

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: Hmm, I might put "Sugar Daddy" in that category, but honestly, the main thing I don't like about this song is the title. LOL But it's the 4th best Christine McVie song on an album where the best three of hers were all released as singles, so I guess it all works out.

a song I used to like, but now don’t: Anything by the new guy. I'm not going to go into detail here because what I love about this album, I still love. At the time, I dug two of his songs here (you can guess which two, surely), but I started to really despise this guy a few years later. Now, I can't listen to anything where he's prominent at all, on any Fleetwood Mac records.

Fortunately there are more than enough Christine and Stevie songs, and Mick and John's playing, plus all those earlier albums like Future Games, to keep Fleetwood Mac in the rock good pantheon. I'd have fired the new guy 30 years earlier than he was. 

favorite lyric:

Mirror in the sky

What is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm getting older too

Like I said, the two Stevie Nicks tracks on Fleetwood Mac deserve every bit of the love they've gotten over the years. You can also see with just a quick glance around my blog that she's one of my most-posted artists. Please don't take me repping Christine as any disrespect for Stevie!

Do I like "Landslide" a little more than I otherwise might because it's specifically about outgrowing the aforementioned new guy? Maybe.  Or do I like it a little less than I otherwise might because I can't hear it without thinking of him? Maybe that too.

overall rating out of 10: Then: 9.4. Now: 9. The new guy went 2-for-4 for my money at the time, and the two that he whiffed on are genuinely terrible...but as bad as those two clunkers were, the rest of the album seemed perfect to me. Certainly among my most-played mainstream rock records into the early 80s. I was perfectly fine skipping one song on each side.

Even though nowadays I can't stand any of the songs he sings lead on, you take those off, and you STILL have "Landslide", "Rhiannon", "Say You Love Me", "Over My Head", and "Warm Ways". No album with ALL THOSE on them gets less than an 8.5, right?

I'm adding a few tenths each for how tightly Fleetwood and Mac are locked into each other and these songs on rythm (easily the most underrated duo of the era, sez me), and Keith Olsen's immaculate production. The score of 9 is therefore objectively correct and mathematically unassailable. LOL

I'm going to end where I began, by talking about Christine McVie. Instead of listening to this first and foremost as an album with a couple of giant Stevie Nicks songs, listen again to Fleetwood Mac as Christine McVie really lighting things up. She deserves so much more credit for the band's success than she gets, and seriously, "Over My Head" fucks. 

Now looky here, @aluacrescente . I know that YOU have strong feelings about this record, so spill! And the rest of you, too! I don't intend to have the last word on the albums in any of these Asks! Just the first one. :-) So lemme know what YOU think!

PS. Apologies for any formatting weirdness! I started this on desktop, where I do all my writing, saved the first few paragraphs to come back to later, only to be told by tumblr that I'd stated this on the app (DID NOT) and could only edit there. Grrr. Not cool, @staff. I've spent another day just tweaking to make it somewhat readable and wondering how these people can be so bad at their jobs. LOL

My crackpot opinions and wobbly writing are my own of course, and I'm aware that they have a larger negative impact on readability than tumblr's incompetence by far. LOL

#aluacrescente #ask #Fleetwood Mac #christine mcvie #women in rock #stevie nicks #Landslide #over my head #john mcvie #dave grohl #sound city #youtube #essay #me #recording studio

[dragonsateyourtoast]

Special thanks to @owl-in-a-top-hat for their support of social justice! They requested something from the Calliope's Tale universe, and I am happy to oblige. Sorry this took so long - it got a little lengthy, haha! And then I had to rewrite the entire end of it because tumblr decided to delete my edits.

-

Her name was Miyei, and she was the queen of the sea.

No nation could capture her. No navy could break her fleet's formation. There was no ship upon the seas of the world that could - or would - best her.

This was in the old days, before the Midnight Sun and Calliope, before the Crown and their vile trade, before even Buroni Hakir and its law of fealty. This was when those that could conquer the waves were considered strong as the gods themselves, able to tame the water beneath and the wind about.

Her name was Miyei.

A fleet of five hundred ships, she had. A fleet that no coastal village could stand up against. No port could deny them. They could blockade a nation if they wanted, and vanish into the Topaz Islands the next day, invisible amongst the thousands of tiny stones jutting from the sea, the coral reefs that lurked beneath them. The Islands belonged to Miyei and her fleet, and everyone knew it. No one could navigate it like she did. No one had ever mapped its intricate formations.

Inside the islands, Miyei was safe. Until she wasn't.

Perhaps it was her hubris and disrespect that brought Kulari's wrath down upon them, or perhaps it was just chance that coaxed a hurricane from the southeastern waters and sent it roaring to the coast in a day and a half. Whatever the truth, even Miyei's seers did not sense its approach, not until it was too late. The hurricane burst over the Islands like an angry god, ripping the trees from their stones and ripping the fleet apart. She mobilized them as soon as it appeared on the horizon, but they weren't fast enough. Perhaps half the fleet escaped. The other half was too slow to run, or they thought the Islands would shelter them. That was not true - the Islands simply gave the storm something to batter them against.

Miyei's flagship, the Blue Bone, was one of the ones caught behind. When the hurricane came, it tore her ship to shreds beneath her and threw her into the ocean like a ragdoll.

This is it, Miyei realized, as she saw the stormlight fading above her, the water dragging her down. I will be no more.

To her surprise, she awoke some time later, laying atop a flat piece of wood in the water. When she scrubbed the salt from her stinging eyes, she realized she was afloat on half of a ship's deck, in the calm, cloudy blue water of the Islands. She didn't try to stand, just squinted around at the world.

There was something watching her at the edge of the deck.

Miyei scrambled back from a creature with eyes so dark brown they were almost black and skin almost as dark as its eyes, head resting on its crossed forearms. "Stay back!" she shrieked, grabbing for something, anything - a piece of metal tied to the deck, anything. She held it out in front of her like a sword, shaking hands pointing the sharp tip towards the creature.

She'd seen merids before. But never this close. "Stay away from me!" she shouted, and the merid, finally, slid backwards into the water and disappeared.

Miyei took stock of her surroundings. Ship deck, metal piece, and a few of the islands in sight. But she didn't have any way to paddle her raft to them, and she didn't know if she would be able to swim all the way to one of the nearer blots of rock. For several hours, she tried to construct something, all the while well aware of the blistering heat of the sun and the lack of water.

Towards midday she sat down. "I am going to die here," she murmured, and wondered if she ought to just let Zzoriel take her now for the reef.

A laugh came from beside her. She sat upright, eyes wide, and saw again the merid beside her. "Stay-" she started, but the merid interrupted her by pulling a parrotfish out of the water and tossing it onto the deck.

The merid - mermaid, from the looks of it - just watched as Miyei carefully stole forward and touched the fish. It was dead, freshly so. "I..." Merids couldn't speak; that was ridiculous. Still... "Is this... a gift?"

"Is it?" The mermaid said, and disappeared again.

Stunned, Miyei sat down hard on the salt-crusted wood. Xikaal grant me the breath in my body and salt in my tears, what? she thought. But... I've never heard a merid speak before! They, they can't...

No. Now was not the time for pondering. She didn't have a fire to cook it with, but a fish was a fish, and the one thing that hasn't been torn from her in the hurricane was her knife, a coral-handled iron blade that gleamed bright silver in the sun. She stripped as much flesh from the fish as she could and savored it.

By the evening, she still hadn’t found a way to get herself to the nearest island in the chain. She didn’t even know where in the chain she was, though she had a vague idea - she knew the shapes of individual rocks poking above the water. But... she couldn’t reach them.

At nightfall, she waited to see if the mermaid would come back. When she spotted a flash of brown under the water, she went still and silent, until the mermaid’s dark head poked up above the swell.

“Listen,” Miyei said, speaking quickly in case she darted off again. “I am a pirate queen. Anything you want, I can give to you, if you get me back to the islands.”

“A queen,” the mermaid scoffed. “Really? With what nation?”

She can speak! She can really speak! Where did she learn?! Never mind, that doesn’t matter. “I’m powerful enough to build my fleet back up if I can get to an island with enough wood and sticks to build a raft back to one of my strongholds.”

The mermaid watched, leaning on the edge of the raft. It tipped perilously; Miyei swayed to keep her balance. “Sure,” the mermaid drawled. “Whatever.”

And she was gone. Miyei sat down again, frustrated, but she didn’t come back that night.

The pattern repeated the next day. The mermaid gave her a fish; Miyei tried in vain to make some kind of sail, or paddle or something that could get her moving. But one of the things that made the Topaz Islands hers was her wind-magic sailors, the ones that could power the ships through this unnaturally calm area, usually so untouched by Kulari’s breath. There was no breeze to sail by.

That night, the mermaid came back. “You must take me to an island,” Miyei ordered her, rage bubbling in her chest. “You must!”

“Or what?” the mermaid asked. “You’ll kill me? Out here, it’s you who’s in danger. I’m doing fine.”

Miyei seethed, but she was right. “You will take me to one of my strongholds, or I will kill you,” she snapped.

The mermaid stared at her, then shrugged and slid under the water. Miyei this time charged forwards to the edge of the raft, that sharp piece of metal in her hand, and stabbed it down into the water. Nothing. Of course not.

Then the mermaid’s hand closed around the metal and tugged hard, and Miyei overbalanced and was dragged into the sea. The water was cool to the touch, and she automatically shut her mouth and held her breath, trying to right herself - but strong hands grabbed onto her and held her in place, one over her mouth, one around her torso and arms, locking them down. The mermaid was behind her. Miyei knew instantly that she could not escape, but she struggled anyway.

“You’re foolish,” the mermaid told her, voice clear in the water, somehow. She just held Miyei, below the surface. Miyei knew she could hold her breath for four minutes, but she hadn’t been prepared, and she knew the merid could out last her. “Do you want to stay down here with me? Is that it?”

No! Miyei struggled, shaking her head.

“Then get out of my ocean.” The mermaid released her. Miyei flailed, then kicked upwards until she broke the surface, gasping for breath, and pulled herself back up onto the wooden raft.

The next day, at midmorning, she sat down on the planks and called out, “What are you doing?”

No answer. Miyei narrowed her eyes. “I know you can hear me,” she shouted, voice ringing over the waves. “What’s your plot, here? Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”

The mermaid surfaced next to the ship and leaned on it again. “I want you to stop ruining my islands,” she said, conversationally. “You have cannons and swords. My people do not, except of ocean glass and stone and coral. We can’t beat you in a fight. So we’re forced to negotiate with you, except you people won’t listen unless we make you listen. It’s an opportunity.” She shrugged.

Miyei glared at her. “Well, fine, you have my attention,” she snapped.

“Good. Promise to leave the islands alone forever, and I’ll take you to a stronghold. Then you can clear your people out and leave.”

That... was absurd. But Miyei knew she wouldn’t be getting out unless she did this. Besides, she could just lie. “Deal,” she said.

“That was surprisingly easy,” the mermaid said, watching her face. “Too easy. You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not!”

“And there, too.” The mermaid shook her head. “That’s not a deal if you mean to break it. You just want to get back up on a ship where you’re safe away from me, and then you’ll continue parading around. Well, I’ll tell you this: we asked Kulari for help once, and we can do it again. If she gets tired of helping us, she’ll bother Athu about it. Then what? Then what happens to you, pirate queen?”

Miyei glowered at her. “I can’t leave the Islands,” she said. “They’re where my fleet needs to hide. It’s where we live.”

“I can tell you right now, we were here first,” the mermaid said, shaking her head. “We were here first, and we don’t care for you moving in and saying it’s yours.”

“I can’t just make them leave!”

“Yes, you can. You made them come here. You can make them leave here.”

“It’s not that simple!” Why am I even entertaining this thought? This creature wants me to destroy my entire empire! “You can’t just make people leave.”

“Well, I hope you figure out a way to do that,” the mermaid said. “When you do, I’ll be ready to tow you back to a stronghold, so you can enact your plan. Good luck.” And she disappeared again.

Miyei stamped her foot on the deck and swore several times, loudly. Curse this stupid merid! Curse that stupid storm! None of this was - none of this should have happened! Wretched, horrible merids, lurking underneath the waves and causing problems and now trying to take her Islands from her! No - she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave. She’d just have to - she’d just have to lie better.

She waited several hours, then called out again. “Fine,” she snarled. “I hate it. And I hate you. But I like living better. Do you hear me? I’ll adhere to your horrible conditions if you’ll only let me go!”

A disturbance in the water. Miyei strode over to the edge of the raft and stared down into the water. “Do you hear me?” she again shouted.

A hand shot out and clasped around her ankle, and with a shriek, Miyei was again dragged down into the water. She clawed at the boards, but all she did was get a splinter in one hand before she was dragged into the water.

The mermaid stared at her, holding her by the shoulder. “You just cannot bring yourself to be a good person,” she said, sounding irritated. “So I’ll have to force you to be one. I was really hoping maybe you’d just have the decency to listen and realize there are real people you’ve invaded here, but I should have known from your past habits that you’re not capable of such a thing, so I’ll have to play tour guide and hope my land can speak for itself. You disgust me.” With that, she shook her hair out of her face and sang out a few sharp, clear notes that made Miyei’s vision blur and go black. She felt her body involuntarily breathe in and shrieked - this creature was trying to drown her! - but the water just felt like thick, humid air, rushing into her lungs, and out again, taking her air bubbles with it. It stung, and hurt in her throat and nose, but after a few moments, she was forced to accept that it wasn’t killing her.

The mermaid was watching her when she opened her eyes. “If you climb out of the water, you’ll drown,” the merid said casually. “So I really wouldn’t recommend trying to get away.”

If it had been humans she’d been negotiating with, Miyei would’ve tried to escape. But this was a merid. And she’d done something to Miyei, something magical, and there was no way Miyei could count on her magic not killing her if she tried to break free. So she glowered at her and said nothing.

“Good! Great. Now, come on.” The mermaid grabbed hold of Miyei’s wrist and immediately towed her away from the raft.

There was so much more beneath the Islands than she’d realized. Miyei could swim, of course, and was familiar with reefs, but she’d never been one to go exploring around in them like some folks did. The seabed here went deeper than she expected in caves and crevasses, and the coral covered secret clearings of white sand and green seagrass. Her vision was unexpectedly clear down here, peering through the water, and the sunlight that reached down showed an extraordinary number of fish and corals hiding on and in the rocks.

But more impressive than that were the merids. Miyei had rarely ever seen a merid in the Topaz Islands - she’d assumed they were too shallow for them. But here, she saw them everywhere. Watching from behind rocky outcroppings, cloaked in the green sea-grass sprouting from the sand beds, tucked underneath a spur of coral just peering out at her. They all stared at her, and each had an expression of mixed curiosity and... hatred?

Why do they look at me like that?

“They hate you because they were here first, and you and your fleet moved in and started destroying everything,” the mermaid told her, conversationally. “You drop your anchors on our coral. You catch all the fish and leave none for us. You destroy things we create without even noticing, and you do not listen to us. These are where we raise our children. And you just sail on in and wreck the place. Can you see why we have a problem?”

Miyei tried to speak. To her surprise, she could, though it was hard, forcing water sluggishly through her throat. Her lungs weren’t used to this kind of effort. “Why... didn’t you mention this... before?”

“You don’t think we tried?” the mermaid snapped. “We tried! But nobody listens to sea monsters. I had to learn your horrible language in order to even get you to listen.”

“You could’ve... talked to us before.”

“No, I couldn’t have. You would’ve captured me in a net and put me in a tank for entertainment. Absolutely not.”

That... may have been true. Miyei winced. You don’t use people for entertainment. But I didn’t know they were people, she thought, and grimaced, and said nothing.

“You look uncomfortable,” the mermaid said, with a kind of grim satisfaction. “Good! You should be.”

She continued to drag Miyei after her, downwards, towards a large hollow in the rocks. It led to a soft sandy area, where several mer-matrons carefully watched a few chubby, awkward-looking blobs go floating about. Baby mermaids, Miyei realized, staring at them. They were... very strange looking. Weirdly similar to human children, except for the gills and the heavy, fleshy tail.

“Oh, yes, we have children,” the mermaid commented. “I know, astonishing. It’s almost like we’re people who come from somewhere.”

“I get it,” Miyei grumbled. “I get it.”

“No, you don’t.” The mermaid turned, staring at her. “You don’t get it. We live here. You tried to steal our home from us, and you’ve been succeeding this whole time. You need to leave here.“

“But where... do we go?” Miyei asked.

“That,” the mermaid sniffed, “is not my problem. There are other islands to live on that don’t have our ancestral birthing grounds underneath them. Go use those.”

The mer-matrons had gathered together in a little group, warily watching Miyei and the mermaid. The mermaid sighed and called out something in a searing, hissing language that made Miyei’s ears hurt; the mer-matrons responded, their voices deeper and stronger, and stayed where they were.

“What’s your name?” Miyei asked.

“Ah, finally!” The mermaid turned back to her. “Finally you ask! I was really wondering how long it would take you to realize I probably have a name.”

“I get it, alright?” Miyei snapped. “There’s no reason to keep on me like this. I get it!”

The mermaid glared at her. “You couldn’t pronounce my name if you tried,” she snapped. “It’s Skreshkaiurhsra. You can call me... let’s go with Resh.”

Miyei took a deep breath (of... water. It still unnerved her) and let it out. He crew on the Blue Bone answered to her because she was just and fair to them, and because she punished anyone who broke her rules. If - if - she got out of this mess, she knew, she’d have to adhere to the merids’ demands, or face the same punishment.

And... she didn’t realize there were kids down here. Children.

“Resh,” she said. “Right. I’m Miyei. So to get home, what do you need me to do?”

-

Resh wouldn’t let her go that easily. She casually assured Miyei that the magic wouldn’t wear off any time soon and told her to help out. The storm had ripped some of the reef apart - the merids were trying to repair it as best as they could.

It wasn’t natural, Miyei was told. The reef was cultivated, kept at its most beautiful and healthy, by the merids who lived here. Some were here all year round to maintain it, and others came and went, coming here to give birth to their children, leaving later once they were grown. “Like turtles,” she said, “but, you know, awake in the thoughts.”

Awake in the thoughts. The thing that Miyei had thought merids weren’t.

It was easier to lift stones and coral underwater, but Miyei wasn’t as quick swimming as the merids were. A single flick of their tails, and they were gone; she had to drag herself through the water. She didn’t belong here, and it was obvious. For days, she struggled to keep up with the merids, doing what they asked of her - she had no choice! And by the end of a week, the younger mermaids (not the babies, but the children) were brave enough to whirl around her, taunting her in their weird language.

“Go away,” she snarled at them, a time or two, feeling her face flush. She didn’t like being made fun of.

“Aww, they’re having fun,” Resh said, appearing behind her. “They aren’t faster than the adults. Let them mock you.”

“Why?!”

“Because they’re children, and they’re having fun,” Resh replied. “Honestly. Were you ever a child, or were you born grumpy?”

Miyei was worried about her fleet. The Blue Bone had been destroyed, she knew, and half her fleet with it. Where were they now? Had they chosen a new captain, a new queen? Would they try to find her? Or would they assume she was gone? Where was her life now, all remnants of it sunk beneath the waves? And myself with it, she thought, looking up to the glittering surface far above. I’m down here, too.

No one came looking for her. It was as if the world above the surface ceased to exist. Everything was the ocean: the coral, the merids, the water that she breathed. Everything. The ocean became the only thing that mattered. Two weeks. Three. A month. Two months.

The merids stopped being so afraid and wary of her, after a time. She’d long since lost that piece of metal, and she didn’t use her knife as a weapon - it was a tool, nothing more. They even seemed to be okay with her presence around. Resh almost seemed to like her.

And then the storm.

It was sudden. The first news they got of it was a crack of thunder over the ocean miles away that they could hear, even from the caverns. All the merids started, and looked up; Miyei, who’d picked up a little bit of their language, could understand what they were saying. A storm? Approaching? They hadn’t thought there would be one. Merids could feel when storms came. But they hadn’t felt this one.

She swam out of the cavern and found Resh as quickly as possible. “There’s a storm coming,” she told the mermaid, as if she didn’t know.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Resh said, but her face was more worried than irritated. “That shouldn’t happen. And we didn’t call that.”

“Then who did?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some of your old friends, who knows.”

The storm came. Miyei had never seen a storm from below before. She thought that perhaps the wind would be dulled underwater, that it would simply be a lovely light-show. She couldn’t have been more wrong. The water became her enemy, roaring, twisting, tearing sand and plants up from the seabed. Fish hid inside the rocks and corals, but even those weren’t safe. The water ripped at the reef like a sea serpent.

Resh hauled boulders in front of a cavern where several merid families had fled for refuge. "Bring more!" she bellowed when she saw Miyei. "Seal it up, keep them safe!"

"I will," Miyei called back, and then the storm ripped away any further words she could have said. She had a split second to think before a wave came roaring in. A whirl of water caught a rock and sent it hurtling away towards the mermaid.

The last thing Miyei remembered was trying to warn her. "Resh!" She remembered shouting, and then there was water, and sound, and -

-

Miyei woke on the shore. Wet sand on her cheeks. Air blowing above her. When she raised herself up, she was seized by a fit of coughing and choking; water in her lungs trying to escape, to be replaced with air. Air. I’m alive. I’m on land.

There were voices in the distance. Miyei dragged herself to her knees - she was so heavy, so clumsy here! - and spat up water. It didn’t sting like she thought it would.

Voices drew closer, and Miyei sat back on her heels and turned her face to the sun. She breathed in, deep - deeper than she should have. The air felt like nothing. She breathed too much, and it sent her coughing again.

By the time she recovered, she was surrounded by people. “Queen!” someone shouted. “Queen, Kulari’s breath, you’re alive!“

Those must be from her fleet. Her crew. The ones that made it out before the storm. She tried to breathe lightly - had it always been this easy? No, she was simply used to the water, which resisted her, which supported her, not this place of air and dead sound where she had to drag herself along through nothing - and looked at them.

“Queen,” one of them started, and then the words died in their mouth. They stared at her, eyes wide, faces pale. Miyei paused. Something was wrong. She raised a hand to her face.

She hadn’t noticed it before, not with how heavy she felt freed from the tides, but there was a strange weight to her head. She ran her hand along her face, her cheeks. There was a strange, smooth ridge of hard bone rising from her cheeks, sweeping up above her ears. There, again, alongside her eyebrows - and from her forehead as well.

Miyei staggered to her feet and turned towards the nearest sailor. In one swift movement she lunged forward and grabbed for the hilt of his blade, unsheathing it fully. He yelped and leaped back, but she only raised the sword and stared into the mirror-bright blade.

Coral. It was coral. It split from beneath her skin and surrounded her face like a portrait frame, or a halo, hanging about her head. It was oddly smooth for coral, and solid, but there was no mistaking that intricate patterning or that dull olive green color.

Miyei stared for a moment longer, then dropped her hand and threw the blade into the wet sand. It stuck point-first and hilt-up, quivering where it landed. “Gather everyone,” she rasped, her voice rough with salt and sand. “Every ship. We empty the strongholds. No one remains in the Islands after three days’ time.”

“What?” said one pirate, staring. “Queen, we can’t -”

“We can,” she interrupted him, a low growl. “Every person here leaves. Do you understand me?”

“Queen,” someone started, and she whirled to face them, her black hair flying around her. Sand sprayed onto the ground. The sailor went quiet.

“Good,” she said. “Let’s go. I need a new ship.”

Miyei looked to the water. It glittered so bright it nearly blinded her, but she swore for a moment she caught sight of a dark-haired head vanishing between one swell-peak and the next.

-

The Topaz Islands are a sacred place. They are holy by all of the goddesses of the sea, protected by a living fleet that has held its vow for thousands of years. No nation can capture them. No fleet can break through their waters. There is no ship upon the sea that may enter them and live to tell the tale.

The fleet that guards them is eternal, and its captain, they say, has been alive since its founding. They say that instead of blood she has saltwater and kelp-fiber. They say that she speaks the merids’ tongue. They say that if you intrude into the place she has given her soul to protect, that even Kulari’s blessing could not protect you from her retribution.

Her name is Miyei, and she is the queen of nothing, for the sea itself needs no crown.

#Calliope's Tale #ctverse #writing #writeblr #UGH sorry for the mishap #had to EDIT ALL THE DRAFTED WORDS BACK IN #because TUMBLR DELETED THEM

[levyfiles]

Only 9 years of Anger but it’s been 30+ years of trauma.

I’m a Canadian multiracial woman who grew up in a community that was not as diverse as it is now. Since I was a little girl, I’ve encountered several instances of baffling behaviour toward me that only in hindsight did I come to understand it was because of my colour. The jokes about watermelon, dumb edgy nonblack kids who think I’ll think they’re cool if they drop the n-word around me. Some fool who everyone thought was funny in high school lead a rendition of Hero by Enrique Iglesias and replaced the word hero for “negro” as he played guitar at a Christian school camp retreat to zero consequence. I was nicknamed Aunt Jemima by older boys because I wouldn’t date them. All this stuff was background noise because my number one awareness of being a Canadian was that despite all this, I would never be treated as bad as an indigenous person would be treated in this country. So I laughed off the jokes, ignored the jabs, ignored the n-word, played the “cool black person” who let things slide because that was how you survived. I made it to my 20’s being passive and moderate, and at some juncture I realised my friend circle was occupied by people who used my colour and my race as a punchline. It was like something snapped in me after college; I stopped being passive, I wanted to learn how to be myself and be proud of my heritage instead of acting like I was some ambassador for every white person in authority who wanted me to nod and say “no no I’m okay with your opinion, so please hire me.”

In 2011, I broadened my friend group to people who had had similar experiences but hadn’t backed down, people who had a community to back them up so they didn’t cower at the idea of facing their own trauma. That’s when I started to make friends online who came from different and diverse perspectives. Starting that year I began reading first-hand accounts of police brutality cases and their large numbers. I heard about black sex workers in the states being harassed and disappearing when they complained. I heard about the way young black men are taught to keep their hands visible because even a parking ticket could get you killed. I was angry and heartbroken but I noticed that despite the fact that I was furious and cross-posting everything I learned on twitter and every other blog space I occupied, barely anyone who wasn’t black wanted to interact with it. It was like I was touting some kind of religion, asking people to believe that people in and out of this country had a disease called racism. 

The few people who used their public platform to talk about it were dismissed as crazy. After Trayvon Martin, my heart just stayed broken, and then the "mysterious suicide" of Sandra Bland and the mug shot they took with her body propped up in the police station when she had already been murdered fully wrecked me because so few people cared. There was always some excuse as to why these people deserved to be murdered; as if suddenly people got amnesia about the ideal of the justice system and due process. As if people should really be all right with a young teen being shot in the street was all right because there was no one else there to see it happen or why.  Soon followed a rash of different cases, and almost everyone close to me who wasn't black had some opinion about it whether that's telling us not to get too angry, to protest the way MLK jr said we should when his very own words talked about anger and pain and the way it spills out of people who only want to exist. He said unrest doesn’t develop out of thin air and that it’s the language of the unheard. I watched Colin Kaepernick get publicly ridiculed and watched white creators whisper a little about it if they weren’t against it. There was a shyness in the energy about the content I read or watched and I had somehow accepted that that would always be the case with people working with platforms online. I watched Tumblr delete a whole tag about BLM because people decided it was starting arguments. I watched white content creators make jokes about Tamir Rice, about Kaepernick until they stopped getting laughs.

It's now been 9 years later and even though 2011 was the first I had ever sat and listened to the truth about these cases and I had been furious and hurt since then, it was not the beginning of the problem and my making noise about it and trying to make people understand at the time fell on a lot of ears that didn’t want to listen. People who were experiencing the pain first-hand were screaming louder and louder until Hollywood got a nice chokehold on it and posted a print of Chris Pine with tears in his eyes and called that the face of the civil rights movement.

So now I find that I’m experiencing a strong sense of deja vu watching people younger than me, or my white peers finally get it. I see posts about it everywhere, white creators and white celebrities posting support and empathy. It feels like a sharp awakening of the world and the chance that there’s hope for all the people who have been yelling and screaming for justice long before I ever became aware of the score. 

It also feels terrifying. 

Because sometimes white creators don’t take stock of their audience. They see them often as a monolith of people who support and engage with their content, so they’ll post a handy instagram quote, or an edit with links to donate; they’ll post their own call to action. Now the activism is something it never was before, it’s “Cool”. BLM is trending; it’s a quick view count and an absolutely easy and performative way to say “Sorry” for all the times in the past these white creators said the n-word, all the times in the past they dismissed diversity because it was inconvenient to them, and all the times they ignored the casual racism in their own content and the transformative content of their audience. So their white kid audience, who are happy to follow them blindly to the next trend, don’t fully understand the impact of what’s happening now. They’re making their edits, they’re changing their twitter handles to ACAB and BLM, they’re performing just fine. It should be a good thing, right?

Then why are there white kids out on the street saying they’re protesting. Saying they are here to make change but they’re caught with baseball bats breaking windows, instigating confrontations and running away for black people to deal with it. Why are they out there living their favourite purge fantasy so they can go home satisfied and safe while people are being tear-gassed and trampled by police? Why do they go home and make their mood boards and their t-shirts and their etsy sales for cool “protest looks”. The tired tiktoks that are just recreated audio of black creators being spooned off so a white face can be the one saying the very thing black creators are brave enough to put on social media at the risk of getting hurt!

Don’t get me wrong. This is all necessary in the growing pains of a worldwide movement. It’s the #stopkony2012 of 2020 because even back then when the performance was on, no one was actually doing the reading. Internationally the whole internet went ham on a cause that had already been dealt with by its own victims.

What I’m basically saying here is that fighting for human rights isn’t a game; this isn’t a cool new thing you can jump in on because the chaos keeps you hidden. Take this seriously; bring this energy to the polls, and KEEP this energy for the future even when the trending page isn’t interested in giving you money for your cause, even when your friends get bored and decide that they want to move on to the next cool thing to perform activism for. Be real. Continue to practice empathy for those whose stories you ignored up until now. Non-Black content creators, your new awareness of something happening is not an absolution of your willful ignorance in the past. Do your reading; educate yourself. Because while you may be just discovering the outrage and the hurt of witnessing a black person being murdered and the pulling teeth aggravation that comes with zero justice, people have been dealing with this far longer than you or I.

#black lives matter #racism #personal

[fuckyeahharryhart]

PART 3 HARRY HART FAN FICTION Because they better give him a good story for the last Kingsman. In case they don’t, I wrote something myself.

PART  3

FAN FIC

KINGSMAN III: REDACTED

MULTI PART SERIES:(My version of Kingsman 3)

Harry Hart x Original Character

Warnings: Reference to violence

Word Count: 5,000

OVERVIEW: After the events of Kingsman, The Golden Circle, Harry, Eggsy and the rest of the survivors rebuild their agency to it’s former level of integrity. A new player arrives unexpectedly, carrying memories of the past that will change the future of Kingsman.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Gwendolyn, having played her last card, shares a drink with Harry and Eggsy while she tells them who she is, where she came from and why she was spying on them.

------

The Black Prince Public House stood on a quiet corner in South London’s, Kensington. The pub dated back to the early 20th century and its name referred to the road where it stood. The wall were painted a dark forest green with black trim. Its name was displayed in gold. It was the place to go, its sign stated, for FINE ALES AND STOUT, but the three patrons inside, seated at one of the booths at the rear, decided that something a little stronger was appropriate after the evening’s turn of events.

Gwendolyn decided this was a drink she was waiting for her whole life and, therefore, if she was going to “celebrate”, was not the right word, perhaps “commemorate the occasion” was a better term, she was going to do it properly. She had acquired a taste for fine scotch and chose accordingly. She was quite sure the two men were slightly taken aback when she ordered three The Macallan 25’s, neat, for the table. She was fairly certain that this warm, friendly, unassuming neighbourhood pub would not carry The Maccallan M Edition, or the Silver Jubilee, or the Dalmore 64.  so she didn’t inquire, but even the cost of the three glasses would be relatively extravagant. The price wasn’t a concern of hers and she was sure it wasn’t a concern of the Kingsman, whose coffers went deep. She wasn’t beyond offending any gentlemanly sensibilities this evening. They were beyond chivalry. And she wasn’t about to tolerate either of them possibly ordering for her.

The two men regarded her if she were a new species of female. She probably was. There were female Kingsman agents, but they too, followed Kingsman protocol, regardless of gender. The behaviour, actions, mannerisms of all Kingsman were consistent, familiar, reliable, while she was under no such constraints.  If her behaviour this evening was unseemly, “unladylike”, she really couldn’t give a rat’s arse. She was here for a reason and her methods got her job done. Perhaps with less grace and finesse than she was hoping for, but she got her results.

The three short tumblrs of scotch were placed in front of them. It had been a very long time since The Black Black Prince had poured not one, but three from that particular bottle. As it was custom that the host, or hostess for this matter, make a toast and she didn’t yet make a move toward her glass, the two men waited to follow her lead. So now they decide to be polite, she thought.

“Well, then.” she began. She was slightly irritated at their seemingly perfect presentation, at least on Harry’s part. Eggsy was not beyond taking a more relaxed shape and leaned back into the booth. His tie was loosened and his suit coat unbuttoned. His hair slightly mused even though he did not participate in any of the more physical aspects of their evening, as if that was its natural state. He would have shrugged out of his jacket if it weren’t for his shoulder holster.

Harry Hart, returned back to his gentlemanly demeanour, sat straight, but comfortably, his suit and tie still perfectly in place. Even his hair had somehow returned to its initial state, smooth waves brushed back into shape. It made her feel somewhat uncomfortable to see him so poised after the physical contact they had made. She had flipped him over her head, had a knife to his throat, kicked him fairly hard in the shin, and he looked none the worse for wear. Only his expression, equal parts indignant, concerned, and vaguely offended, revealed that anything of interest had occurred.

In contrast, even turning toward him was likely to throw her off balance. A feeling she did not enjoy one bit. Just her quick glance in his direction and she could feel him behind her again, pressing against her, the long line of his legs, the broadness of his chest across her back, the sheer size of him, the smell of his wool suit and the cologne, soap or whatever made him smell so good and she felt a rush of blood rise up to her cheeks. She clenched her jaw and flushed. She was hoping that they would take it for her high emotional state after their confrontation, not the fact that she found herself neatly attracted to a man she only just met and almost twice her age.

His refined manner only made her that much more aware of her own disheveled state. Her hair, a black cloud that had been blown all over, her pedestrian attire, though not unattractive, in no way matched the elegance of their Kingsman suits. No cosmetics, no adornment, not that those elements of her outward appearance were particularly important to her, in the face of their stately masculinity, she felt decidedly unfeminine. And regardless of her feelings, she knew that her looks were as much of a tool for a spy as her words or actions. She convinced herself she wasn’t concerned just because she wanted Harry to find her attractive.

Her personal feelings seeped into her professional persona. She reeled back her thoughts and replaced them with a cool, calm, collected mindset with a specific objective. If she kept her personal feelings at bay now, she could let it all out after her mission was accomplished. She drilled into her brain, be smart now, feel later.

Until she felt differently, she approached this as she would any other meeting of an asset or target. What she needed from the relationship and how could she get them to do what she wanted was just as much about finding out what they needed, and how to make it seem she was giving them what they wanted.  Almost every relationship was based on a desire to be heard and understood. Wants and needs were always self-revealed, unwittingly or intently. She just had to listen.

Unfortunately, for this first meeting, she would be the one doing most of the talking. She knew being genuine, sincere, and honest, would be in her best interest.  The more and better we are heard and understood, she thought, the more we are willing to and want to engage and respond. The sensation of being listened to was a powerful motivator and feeling enhancer to all people, it was human nature.  It was why we befriended those that listened to us, worked for those that heard us, and fell in love with those that understood us.

——

“Well” she repeated, refocusing. She shifted her posture, drew her shoulders back, lifted her head a little higher, and held the space around her. Composing herself just as she would with any new asset would put her back on target. Remember your training.

“I’m sure you have many questions.” She opened up the table.

Harry, as direct as she, got right to the point.

“How are we to trust that you are really Merlin’s daughter? He never spoke of family.”

He folded his hands together, looking stern with a slight narrowing of his eyes, his brow with just a hint of a furrow.

Harry’s eyes roved over her, her posture, hands, the angles of her face. He listened to the inflections of her voice, searching for any tells that might indicate she was being less than honest. He looked for any hint of the tall Scotsman in this young woman. The loss of Merlin was still a wound that was raw. For both he and Eggsy. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone using his death as an excuse, no matter the reason, but especially if it was a false one.

“He wouldn’t have.” She replied bluntly. “

“ How much did you know of Hamish?” She asked.

She emphasised the pronunciation of his given name. Hay-mish.

“That is, before he came to Kingsman.”

The two men glanced at each other, but did not speak. Admittedly, they did not know of Merlin’s past. He never offered, and as gentleman, they never asked. They both knew that spies usually became spies because of something dark and fucked up from their past, and Harry had no doubt this was the same for Merlin. Hence, he never questioned his unwillingness to disclose his life prior to Kingsman. Harry was the same, just as unwilling to divulge his own personal information.

Eggsy, “That doesn’t mean anything. Anyone can say that.”

Harry leaned forward slightly, emphasising the importance of his words. They were low and sharp.

“If you really are who you say you are, then you know that his loss is one that we still feel every day.”

He shot a glance toward Eggsy, who more than anyone, felt the weight of his death.

“We will not condone anyone using his name for their own motives. Have you proof?”

She surveyed them for a moment. She considered her words and chose them with care. Her words were all she had and they carried a heavy weight. They had to be strong enough to deliver the message she was about to send. He eyes moved to her drink, still untouched.  Mindfulness was key. As was paying attention to their responses, observing them with the intent to understand. Through her words, she would see how they felt, what they were thinking, and most of all, what they wanted or needed.

She cleared her throat. She met one pair of eyes and then the other.  She poised herself to say something that, to her, held the utmost honour and importance. She took a deep breath in. At the end of her exhalation, she spoke. Her voice was low as well. Her words were even more powerful for her lack of emotion.

“My father’s favorite song was ‘Country Roads.’ by John Denver.”

The entire room seemed to suddenly quiet with stupefaction.

“My father was singing it, when he stepped off of a land mine to save both of your lives. And to save your mission. For my father, the mission always came first.”

For the two men, this was an impossible statement. No one, set aside Eggsy and himself had that knowledge. Not even other Kingsman.

Harry spoke, this time with frank disbelief. He wasn’t even questioning her. He was asking himself. Out loud. Without his familiar strength and surety.

“That is impossible. There is no possible way you could know that.”

With the same poise, the same simplicity, she explained.

“I was there when he died.” Observing their state of bewilderment, she clarified. “Via satellite and reconnaissance drones.” Which didn’t ease their confusion.

“If you worked with my father, you knew he was a brilliant strategist. He wasn’t merely good, he was gifted. He had the talent of an artist. Some of that talent filtered down to me. I’ll never be as good as he was, but I was good enough to hack the communication band that Statesman had in place for reconnaissance and I had access to audio and visual of the events that led to, and after his death.”

Impossible would never have the same meaning for them again. Because this young woman’s story was utterly impossible. Yet, here it was, an impossible situation.  

She turned slightly toward Eggsy and held his blue eyes with her grey. Her voice took on an undefinable emotion, “I know that he took your place on a land mine, Eggsy.”

And with that confession, he was forced to drop his gaze. Is this how Harry felt when he had to tell him that it was due to Harry’s own mistake that Eggy’s father died? Guilt was physical. It was a crushing weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe.

“I know that he died in the way that he wanted.”

She added with a note of empathy and understanding to slightly ease their guilt and their shock.  

“He was able to give his life for those close to him.”

Neither of the men could think of anything to say. Harry Hart, who was never at a loss for words, found himself unable to find a single word that would be appropriate for a time and situation like this.

Gwendolyn sighed internally. At least now she had their full attention. She was quite certain that she would not be interrupted this time around.

“Perhaps,”  she said. Her voice now carried a softer note. It was not the voice of an agent. It was the voice of a daughter.

“Perhaps, I should start at the beginning”.

“But first.” she paused and picked up her glass, holding her arm out toward the men, the glass in her hand.

Harry and Eggsy, first exchanging a look in the other’s direction, followed suit. Each man took a glass and waited, with the warm golden liquid breaking up the lines of dim light that hovered over their table.

She suddenly felt overcome once more, as she had been when she first stepped off the train and onto the concourse on her arrival. She channeled that emotion into her toast, which was brief and heartbreaking in its simplicity.

Holding up her glass, “To my father, Hamish Mycroft.” She paused. “And to Merlin.”

Each of them held the gaze of the other two as their glasses touched with a light, crisp ring. Each drank back its contents.

——

As three glasses hit the hardwood of the table. Gwendolyn began to speak. Her story was a long and complicated one. And unfortunately, the two men could tell, it would be a sad one. An unknown daughter of a colleague that you’ve known for most of your adult life doesn’t suddenly appear after his death with good news.

“My father, whose given name was Hamish Mycroft, was married. He had three children. Two boys and a girl. I was the youngest.”

The slightly blank, yet confused faces made it seem like she had already given them more information than they could process. She paused, gestured to the barkeep for another round. The scotch would do good to kick in soon, because her story was not going to get any easier.

“Before he had a family, he worked with far east intelligence, recruited after his time in the army, where he had been stationed in Tibet, Bhutan, and other East Asian territories.”

She nodded her thanks to the barman, who delivered their second round of drinks. The scotch should have been savoured, but she felt at the time, a tip back for her father was right, even though he would have been horrified to see her shoot back a scotch of such high quality. This one however, she would sip.

“While he was working as a field operative at the station in Bhutan, he met a very beautiful Bhutanese woman, Evelyn, my mother, who was also working intelligence, but as a handler. Based on their skill assessment, they were assigned to work as a team. They would run missions together. My father as the operative. My mother, his handler. Hence, I myself am half Scottish, half Bhutanese. If you’ve had difficulty pinpointing my ethnicity. It’s not a common pairing.”

“Even though the agency opposed ‘close and continuing’, inter-agency relationships and relationships in general, Hamish believed that he could live a normal life. That he could have a wife and family despite working in intelligence. They were an example of having a successful home life in addition to a successful career and they were very happy for a long time.”

Merlin as a husband and father were the farthest roles that Harry and Eggsy could imagine him in. The brusk, often testy, disagreeable scotsman, with all the warmth of a potato, with a wife and children.

Gwendolyn continued with her story. Pausing after a long stretch for a sip of her scotch, but for the most part, continuously and without any interruption from the two men. They were both a bit stupefied that one of their closest, most respected and trusted colleagues had an entire past of which they had no knowledge.

—

Hamish was smitten at first glance. On Evelyn’s side, it was more appropriate to say that she tolerated his presence . And even that was putting things kindly. Eventually, he was able to win her over with his rough Scottish brogue, his biting sense of humour and dry wit. Underneath the sarcasm and abrupt, even gruff personality, she sensed a very kind soul who possessed a good heart. It was simply being protected by a shield designed to keep people at arms length.

Though as handler and operative, there could be no shields. There could not be even a hairs breadth distance between a team, let alone an arms length. The operative’s life was literally in the hands of the handler. If they weren’t working, existing, breathing as one, it would be only a matter of time until the operative would find himself in a position where he needed his handler, but the handler wouldn’t be able to provide. Or the agent, not fully trusting his handler, withheld crucial information, therefore setting up his handler to fail in the case where he needs life threatening assistance. These relationships often ended in the death of the operative, as he had to fully entrust not only the capability of his handler, but also fully trust the person behind his earpiece. The relationship had to be based, on not only on professional compatibility, but on a personal and emotional connection as well.  Whatever jesting nature, or standoffish front either of them first presented to each other dissolved when they were on mission. The trust was profound. It was scary to know the circumstances they had been through together and how much each of them put their lives in the hands of the other.

Their relationship was highly personal, intense, and emotional. The nature of their relationship was a powerful force behind their choice to be together and to devote their loyalties to a single agency, with a singular mission, to preserve life and to protect the innocent. However, this often resulted in taking out some very bad, very large, very powerful players off the world’s stage. When they both proved themselves more than capable individually, and even beyond exceptional as a team, they were brought on to the Maximum Threat, Maximum Risk Special Operations Division, or MTMR.

The MTMR, only dealt with the worst of the worst, and then the unthinkable of the worst. These were the terrorists, the warlords, those with enough power and influence to bypass almost any law, any treaty and any world decree. Those who would violate human rights and the rules of engagement. They were the worst of the worst, but also the lowest of the low. In their eyes, life was a commodity to be traded, abused or without value and discarded at will. This is what happened when psychopaths achieved power. Without empathy, without a conscious, without a sense of right or wrong or any moral accountability, without any value of life. These were the most dangerous and most difficult enemies to engage. Not only could they commit the most horrible atrocities, they were usually narcissists as well, dynamic, charismatic, even charming. Therefore, their inner circle was comprised of sycophants who provided his narcissistic supply. They eliminated those that were either immune to their charms, or were beginning to understand the true nature of their personality, which was that of a very highly functioning psychopath.

In this division, Hamish did not operate in the field, but joined Evelyn in strategic planning and outcomes. They worked as a team. Hamish, with his knowledge of the field as a Special Operations Officer, possessed the skills to operate weapons and explosives, to take on missions to gather intelligence and destroy targets in hostile environments. He knew the dangers, the variables, the best strategies.

Evelyn provided critical thinking.  She had the ability to predict outcomes, to make the most difficult life and death decisions without hesitation and be a leader to her team . The pair became an invaluable asset to the division. It was proof to them, when the agency acknowledged their value, not as separate agents, not as a handler and operative, but as a team, that they could be in the world of espionage as husband and wife with a family. The agency saw that their success was based on not only their expertise, but BECAUSE of, not despite their relationship. The closeness, the sheer absolute trust that they had in each other, and their love kept them committed to each other and their work. They experienced both a fulfilling family life and successful professional life for longer than anyone could hope for in their line of work.

During their successful tenure in the MTMR Special Ops, one operation took precedence over all others. They were both actively involved, not only in gathering intel, but in the entire intelligence cycle.  First, with planning, identifying possible threats and what they needed to know about the threat with world leaders and decision makers. Collection, which was the division they both began in, the physical collection of target information through operations. Analysis, examining the new information, looking for connections, key points, new developments, and combining it with what they already knew, creating useful and actionable intelligence. Lastly, was Dissemination, where the new intelligence was discussed with politicians and decision makers who then decided whether to take action or if more information was needed.

It was during one of these cycles, where Evelyn and Hamish were assigned as head officers of a mission. It was a mission that resulted from intel that their team had collected, analysed and produced. The target was an international underground world leader, not of any established or recognised government. He threatened to destabilise society. Not through government or any means of authority. He wasn’t targeting positions of leadership. He wasn’t engaging in the trickle down theory. He was starting at the bottom. First, was taking out crops, tainting water supplies, poisoning livestock. He did not bother with small areas. He targeted the largest ones. Locations with the most impact and the widest effect.  Civil unrest was next. Which turned into peaceful demonstrations. Then came active protest. Followed by violent protest. Then it was rioting, looting. And when fear took hold, it was domestic terrorism. He was using the countries own people to destabilise the structure, the foundation of civilisation, which was based on people working together.

Apparently, he was not one to follow the saying, “The fish rots from the head down.” Meaning that without sound leadership, the people will eventually turn bad and die off. When in actuality, the guts, the contents of the fish begins to rot first. Perhaps the warlord followed this philosophy. Corrupt the innovators, the providers, the creators of sustenance, essentially the life givers, and civilised society will begin to rot from, not the head down, but from the inside out.

In conjunction with the US, the British Armed Forces and other key international allies, they were able to coordinate an airstrike. It was successful in so much that they destroyed their enemies home base, their world HQ and well as almost all of their high level leadership. However, they missed their main target. Also on the strike list, was the home of Azal Aamon, which was where he was supposed to be at the time of the strike. His family, wife and two children were to be collateral damage. Unfortunate, but sometimes unavoidable in times of war. But after reviewing the DNA evidence to confirm the targets as deceased, his family was identified, but Aamon’s DNA was not found. No one had knowledge of how he was able to avoid or survive the attack. The last piece of intel that they had verified, was his location at the time of fire.

———

Inside the Black Prince, Gwendolyn paused. She reached for her drink, lifted the glass to her lips, and took a small sip. Harry saw her jaw working as she let the scotch rest on her palate, allowing it to reach all the areas of her tongue so she could appreciate its aromatic notes before she swallowed.  It was a gesture he was familiar with, one that he made every time he enjoyed his own drink, but it was especially interesting to see this decidedly, he was not a sexist in any way, shape or form, but this particularly male gesture take shape on her extremely feminine and delicate face. He felt decidedly uncomfortable. So he simply took her lead and followed suit with a swallow of his own. As did Eggsy, who was leaning forward at this point, his elbows on the table and his tie even more undone, as were the few top buttons of his shirt. Harry as always, remained properly attired.

She looked at both of them, her eyes inquiring, silently asking if they had any questions, if they needed any clarifications, to see if they understood. To confirm that they believed her.

Harry was particularly intrigued. Out of all the coincidences that seemed to be happening, he knew precisely, the mission she was referring to. The British Armed Forces did take part in the Aamon mission and he knew this because he was part of the BAF at that time.  He had been directly involved in the operations side of the mission. How was it possible that he had this experience in common with Merlin and it never came up in conversation? He thought back to the rare times where they would share stories, sometimes while waiting out a mission, or after a successful one, over a drink just like this. He recalled sharing a few stories from his time in the military, but thinking back, could not recall a single instance that Merlin even mentioned his time in the army, or anything really prior his employment with Kingsman. Harry only knew that he had been military. Out of all the possible connections that they had, one of the biggest ones that they shared remained unknown until after his death.

Gwendoyn was regarding him thoughtfully, knowing that he had made some kind of connection or realisation, but she didn’t mention it and he was grateful. He tipped his head, asking her to please continue.

“As you can imagine, this was seen as a failed mission on paper, since they did not terminate their main target. But in many ways it was a huge success. An operation of this scale, with multiple targets on the board, with international military and intelligence coordination, with minimal collateral damage, is typically unheard of, and my parents were honoured to have lead their intelligence division. I’m not sure if Kingsman participates in this particular tradition, but after high risk missions of this nature, officers and operatives, if it is feasible, are offered time off, mostly to decompress. The agency is aware that if their officers and operatives work at that level of intensity for prolonged periods of time, they will burn out. It’s not possible to sustain that level of stress at length without a chance to wind down.”

It was quiet. Gwendolyn has stopped speaking. Harry could see that she was taking time to collect her thoughts again. He wasn’t sure why she needed to. She was recalling a very complicated and personal story with an eloquence, a clarity and a dignity that he respected very much. She wasn’t just reminiscing about a story, reciting history, or a past event. Their comprehension was important to her. This wasn’t about her “getting something off of her chest”. He had the feeling that she could be very happy never having to say any of these words ever again. She wasn’t looking for support or understanding. She was making sure that THEY understood her story. It wasn’t sympathy for her that she wanted. She was looking for absorbtion  Particularly from Harry. Most likely because he had the longest relationship with Merlin. But she was fixing him with a very intense gaze that he was not quite sure what to do with.

Harry already felt a particular sadness. He knew where this story was heading. He might not know the specifics yet, but you didn’t need to be a spy to know there was no happy ending for her. Out of a family that was once a mother, a father, and two brothers, this woman was the only one sitting in front of them. His respect for her was growing with each moment. He was feeling quite sorry now, for treating her so roughly.

She picked up her story, dusted it a little, found where she left off and resumed. Her voice became detached once again, but her words never faltered.

“We were all on break. Because they both got time off, that meant the whole family was on break. It was very rare for us. For the family, for me, those times were very special.  I don’t remember many other times we had that kind of chance. Of course, outings were still agency outings. I was really too small at the time, six, but that was our life. I didn’t know any different then. But my parents, because of their positions, were at high risk for retaliation and we always had protection with us. My brothers and I had protocol, even back then. No speaking to strangers, at all. Never speaking about my parents, never offering any personal information. Never giving out my name. If we were ever to get lost, we were never to ask for them or speak their names. We had one number to call and it was not even theirs. It was the agency’s number, created just for us to have in case of an emergency. There was actually a person whose job it was to be prepared if they ever received a call from us. Very few people, and only those with high security clearance, had information about our family. We were referred to as assets. Not by our names.”

As she continued, The more emotion left her voice, the more matter of fact she became, as she became more composed, more stoic, Harry felt his sadness slowly turn into inevitable dread. He was also aware of the second mission that followed up the first air strike. He was also assigned operations support for the BAF’s involvement. He had heard stories about what had happened at intelligence HQ, but never anything confirmed. If she had been involved in that, it was worse than he thought.

------

Look for future posts :) If you made it this far, thanks for reading! Feedback, likes and reblogs are always helpful and much appreciated. If you have a chance, would love to hear your thoughts!

#Kingsman #Kingsman The Secret Service #kingsman fanfic #Kingsman AU #kingsman the golden circle #kingsmanfanfic #kingsmanfanfiction #harryhart #harry hart #harry hart fanfic #harruharty #harryhartfanfic #harryhartfanfiction #Agent Galahad #agentgalahad #galahad #hartwin #merlahad #merlin #eggsy #fandom #fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfiction #kingsman fanfiction #kingsman fan fiction

[strangerfictions]

Fight Part II

Prompts: “don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want from you”, “I know I shouldn’t be here”, “What’s this between us?” - Pinterest

Summary: Billy told you something that you didn’t expect while you were suffering from concussion, so you ignored it until Billy started to ignore you. With the help of Robin and Max you realize you have something to tell him too, so you make the decision to talk to him and see where things go.

Warnings: A lot of angst and a bit of fighting maybe?

Words: 2194

Read Part One Here!

A/N: Okay so I have been working on this for a few weeks now. It has taken me so long thanks to both college and the fact that I had to restart it about five times because it didn’t flow well or just didn’t feel right. This is the first time I have done a part two of a fic I have written, and I am super happy with how it turned out. This has now been sitting in my rafts for well over a week and I have been meaning to post it! Hope you all enjoy! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Edit: I had to repost this thanks to tumblr acting a bit weird but hopefully thi time it works out a little better!

It had been a week since the fight and things between you and Billy couldn’t be any more awkward. Billy still brought you to and from school but there was never much of a conversation. The night of the party was a little blurry for you thanks to the concussion, but you could remember everything he had said to you. You still couldn’t take it in, but you wanted to move on, but Billy was making that difficult for you.

It was a fresh week and you hoped that meant Billy would be back to himself. Like clockwork you hear his car come to life and you run downstairs shouting a goodbye to your parents. Before you even get into the car you can already tell Billy is still being awkward. He is sat bolt upright and refusing to even acknowledge you coming out of your house. You were sick of this and you were determined to say something.

When you get into the car you notice his black eye and split lip. You couldn’t help but wince knowing the exact pain he was in.

“Hey” Billy just nods driving down your street.

“Really? You are still being weird with me? Why are you so damn stubborn? It’s like you are going out of your way to make me feel like its all my fault when you were the one to confess to me!” You raise your voice slightly not meaning to, but you can tell from the look on Billy’s face that it has an effect.

“Fuck seriously Y/N? You know how hard this has been on me? First you beat up my fri3nds and then this shit. It takes two to have a conversation and last time I checked you didn’t put much effort in either!” You recoiled back into the seat a little as Billy begins to shout at you. You can feel your eyes begin to sting and so you turn and look out the window watching Hawkins pass by you in a blur.

“Maybe if your friends weren’t such dicks Billy, I wouldn’t have to get into a fight with them. They aren’t the ones who patch you up after every damn fight you get in are, they? They are all the type to peak in high school Billy and it looks like you’re going to be the same” Your voice cracks and luckily Billy pulls up outside school and you quickly get out before he can say anything else.

You walk towards the doors pulling them open as you hear Billy shouting after you. You run down the hall passing Steve and Robin who try to catch your attention before you go into the bathroom. You enter a cubicle and try to calm yourself down. You hear the bathroom door open and shut and the tap of shoes across the tiles.

“Y/N? You okay?” Robin calls out through the bathroom. You reach out and unlock the door pulling it towards you and leaving the cubicle.

“Yeah I’m fine. I had another fight with Billy and I just needed to calm down a little sorry.” You walk over to the sink splashing cold water on your face as Robin sits up on the counter beside.

“Again? I blame the sexual tension between you two!”

“Robin!” You were surprised she would even say such a thing.

“What? I always felt there was a little tension between you two and then I saw how he acted after the fight and I knew there was something going on there!” You nod knowing you had to tell her what he said to you. You check that all of the stalls are empty before saying anything.

“Well that night when he brought me home, he told me he liked me, and he has been really off with me and that’s what we fought about today. I brought it up and he got a little angry and so did I and we both said things we regret. As per usual…” You sit up beside Robin who has a massive smile plastered on her face.

“Wow I knew it. This is pretty big Y/N! Please tell me you told him you like him back because if you didn’t, I understand why he isn’t talking to you!” You wince at what she says remembering the night.

“I was concussed I didn’t know what I was saying!” You try to defend yourself, but you know Robin is right.

“Shit you’re right…I hate that you’re right. Can you ask Steve if he can give me a lift home?”

“I know I’m right I wouldn’t say it with full confidence if I didn’t know I was right! Yes, he will give you a lift he has no choice!” The bell rings and Robin pulls you towards your first class.

All day you have done your best to avoid Billy. You knew you couldn’t face him after everything you said. You knew what you said was wrong and would effect Billy because he already thought it was true. By last period you were ready to get home and collapse into bed and sleep for the rest of eternity, but you knew you had to apologise to Billy. Mo matter what it took.

By the time you got home both Steve and Robin had hyped you up to tell Billy that you do in fact like him a lot and that you regret everything you said. You wouldn’t blame him if he hated you for everything you said but a small part of you hoped things would work out. As you walk into your house you are hit with smell of cookies. It almost as if your mom knew you were having a bad day.

“Something smells good” You say as you push the door open to find the entirety of the Hargrove family sitting at your dinning table.

“Y/N! I invited the Hargrove’s over for dinner. I was a little surprised that you hadn’t come home with Billy” You put on a fake smile hoping it will conceal everything going on.

“Oh yeah…I had to stay behind and do some work with Robin for an English report so Steve said he would drop us both home. Actually, mom I’m not feeling to great I think I’ll pass on dinner I’m going to go and do my homework” Your mom doesn’t question anything and allows you up to your room.

You get changed into comfy clothes and get started on your homework. A little while later you hear a light knock on your door. You turn around to find Max standing at your door with a plate full of cookies.

“Hey kiddo!”

“Hey…I guessed you might be a little hungry since your not actually sick” Max sits down on your bed handing you the plate of cookies.

“How did you know?” You ask taking a big bite out of the still warm cookies.

“Billy’s guilty face” You smile knowing the exact face she is talking about.

“Funny this time it isn’t just his fault. I messed up…said a few things I shouldn’t have and now I need to apologise and tell him something pretty big” You sigh savouring the taste of the cookie before swallowing.

“That you like him?” You snap your head towards Max who has a big smile on her face.

“God first Robin now you…I swear you two are literally sisters separated at birth. How did you know?”

“Intuition and the weird tension between you. It’s very obvious…even my mom has noticed it” Max grabs a cookie and takes a huge bite out of it

“Shit…I…I’m kind of surprised by that actually. I guess I should bite the built all things considering. It’s not like I have much left to lose.” You finish your cookie and grab another one.

“Exactly! I better see you getting in his damn car tomorrow morning and him smiling because I’m sick of him being in this crap mood!” You nod knowing what you have to do now.

After awhile they all leave and its just you and your parents at home. You lay on your bed and think about what to do and how to tell Billy. You can hear the lull of the TV from downstairs as you take  in the noises around you. You hear the rain hit your window as you watch as it drips down hitting the frame.

Your parents go to bed early and you decide there is no time like the present. You get u and pull on a hoodie and some shoes. Thankfully you are on the ground floor so you can jump out of your window easily. You run across the road to Billy’s house. The rain getting heavier the nearer you get to the front of his house. You quietly walk around the side to his window. As you approach you can see his light is still on and as you get closer you can hear he is listening to Def Leppard. You stop outside his window and knock lightly catching his attention straight away. He looks up from whatever he is reading. You can see him visibly sigh as he gets up to open his window. You watch as he walks towards you. You cant help but feel the nerves build in the pit of your stomach. In one swift push Billy’s window is open.

“What do you want?” Billy whispers as you play with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“I know I shouldn’t be here, but can we talk please?” You ask quietly hoping not to wake his family.

“Why? So, you can insult me again? Don’t think so Y/N” Billy goes to close the window, but you place both of your hands on the windowsill.

“I’m sorry okay! I didn’t mean any of it and it was cruel of me to say those things because I know that’s the opinion you have of yourself. It was such a shit thing for me to do and I regret it so much because I might lose you and I really cant imagine life without you. I’m sorry about fighting with your friends, I’m sorry for making you look after me, I’m sorry for not telling you I love you and I’m sorry for being such a shit person sometimes” The rain is even heavier now as you continue to confess everything to Billy.

“Shut up and get in here” Billy holds out his hand helping you into his bedroom. As soon as you are in his room, he drops your hand and walk towards his bed throwing himself onto it.

“Thanks” You mumble shifting from one foot to the other starting to feel uncomfortable.

“So, you love me?” You look up from fiddling with your fingers to find Billy smirking at you.

“Uhmm…yeah I did say that didn’t I” You begin to pick at the skin on your finger as Billy stands up from his bed.

“And do you mean it?” Billy asks as he stops in front of you. You take a deep breath in before answering.

“I mean it, but I don’t want to make things weird between us” You say quietly

“I think it’s too late for that princess” You both laugh as Billy tucks a strand of hair behind you ear.

“So, what is this between us?” Billy takes you’re hand and leads you to edge of the bed sitting down together.

“I don’t know Billy whatever it is I don’t want to get hurt” You say holding his hand in yours.

“You know I’m not like” He was right you knew he wasn’t what the rumours made him out to be.

“But if you need space, I’m willing to give you it.” You hear Billy’s voice crack a little causing you to look up to find him looking away from you.

“Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want from you Billy!” You place your hand on Billy’s chin and tilt his head towards you. You can see the thoughts racing through his head as he begins to process everything. You are unsure on where you go form here but you hope it will involve talking to each other again.

“If you need space I…” Without thinking Billy leans forward and kisses you. You’re caught off guard and so when Billy realises you aren’t kissing back, he begins to pull away. You wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull him back towards you, lips smashing together. The passion between you two fills the room and the tension lifts as the kiss continues. Billy is the first to pull away to catch him breath. You struggle to open your eyes after the sheer bliss you had experienced from the kiss.

“I don’t want space either…I guess we should go about this the proper way so Y/N will you go on a date with me?” You can’t help but smile at Billy’s attempt at doing things traditionally.

“Sure” Billy pulls you in for a hug as Def Leppard continues to play in the background. And just like that everything is back to being normal.

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[2seokstrashcan]

My first fic on Tumblr in years! Will probably cross post on Ao3 at some point. I'm not really sure what this is, just just kinda spilled out because I am GOING THRU IT for Min Yoongi. I didn't even edit it so I hope it turned out okay. Minors DNI.

____________

Title: I bet I can

Genre: Smut. Pure Smut. 🔞

Words: 2700

Summary-Yoongi was a good friend, he'd always listen to your woes about men. One night he decides to do what no one else can seem to do.

_________

"I bet I can."

Your eyes widened at the confession.

"You-You can what?" You asked, making sure what you'd just heard, was actually what you thought you'd heard.

"Get you off. I can make you cum only using my hands." Yoongi said so nonchalantly while your heart raced in your chest at his words.

When Yoongi came over for beer and pizza after your date stood you up, he'd sat there and listened to you gripe about your latest dating failure. He was a good friend, this wasn't the first time you'd found yourself in this situation, complaining about men to him-and he'd always listened. Truth be told, you'd always had a crush on him, but you also knew he was wildly out of your league. You'd always felt comfortable around him though. He made you feel safe when you spilled your guts, and you'd both spoken freely to each other about your sexual escapades on many occasions.

But he'd never once offered his services any time you'd complained about your date not being able to finish you off… until now.

"You don't mean that." you say finishing the last of your beer, wishing you were drunk so you'd be able to blame the redness across your cheeks instead of it being a clear sign of him flustering you.

"I do. I'll make you cum without sex." He said just as calm as before, eyes boring into you from his chair where he sat ajcent to you on your couch. "Listen, if you don't want to, that's fine. We can pretend like this conversation never happened, but I listen to you bitch and complain about these men being selfish and not giving you what you need. You deserve so much better than that trash you settle for. I can make you feel good… better with my hands than any of them ever could with their dicks." he said before sitting forward to grab another beer off the coffee table.

" Yoongi… I-... I don't know." you stammered out.

Of course you wanted to, fuck almighty you wanted to! You'd thought about his hands roaming your body more times than you could count. You'd never had a hand kind until you'd met him if you were honest with yourself. But you knew if you moved forward with his proposition, you'd catch feelings for him. You were half way there already and he was just your friend. And this conversation wasn't helping.

"It's fine. No worries, like I said it never happened. If you don't want to-"

"I do." you cut him off. The words flew out before you had a second to register what you were saying.

He flashed his tongue across his lips to moisten them before looking down, a smile making its way across his lips.

"I mean, it sounds nice. You don't have to though! I mean, if you were just kidding and-"

"I wasn't kidding. You're a beautiful woman and you deserve to have your body worshipped by someone that appreciates it." He looked up with a look in his eye you'd never seen before.

God, that stare! You were so flustered by Yoongi for the first time since you'd met him years ago. You could feel your body heat up, and your heart fluttered, but you ignored that part. He probably didn't mean anything that deep.

"Oh." was all you were able to get out, while everything else you wanted to say flew though you mind a mile a minute.

Yoongi was calm on the outside, but inside he was bricking it. He'd wanted to touch you for so long, but always kept his distance because you'd always seemed more interested in men that weren't him. Tonight when he'd said he bet he could get you off, it was a thought he didn't even realize he'd said out loud, but fuck, was he glad he did. He didn't know what would happen after, but he decided he'd figure it out later. Right now, all he wanted to do was touch you.

"So, how do you wanna do this?" You asked, trying to minic his cool exterior.

"Let's go to your bedroom?" he said standing and heading in the direction of your room, "You trust me, right?"

You stood and took his hand to lead him the rest of the way into your room, "Yoongi, you know I do."

"I know, I just wanted to hear it." he smiled and followed you into your room.

"What now?" You asked trying to turn to face him, until you felt his hands on your hips.

He held you in place, your back to his chest, "If you want me to stop at any point just tell me, okay?"

You nodded in agreement.

You felt his hands grip your hips a bit tighter and his warm breath on the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

He chucked lowly into your ear before his hand stared kneading the flesh of your hips and thighs.

If you didn't know any better, you'd swear his hands were shaking a bit as he started.

"You're so pretty, baby. You feel so good in my hands." he said lowly before nipping at your neck lightly, making you gasp.

His hands made their way slowly under the hem of your sweatshirt painfully slow. You'd found yourself holding your breath, waiting to see what his next move would be.

"Mmm, my girl is so soft, so warm."

his voice was deeper and more breathy than you'd ever heard it.

You felt yourself already reacting to him and he'd just started.

His thumb grazed the underwire of your bra as his other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you in place so he could continue teasing you. Moving his hand over the lace cup of your bra with a light squeeze making you take a sharp breath.

"Does my girl like that? Do you like it when I do this?" he said squeezing your breast again a bit harder this time.

Your eyes were shut tight focusing on the feel of him, "Y-yes. It's good."

His other hand moves from your waist up to your chest, taking one cup in each hand, massaging the flesh through through the material.

You arched your back, lost in the feel of his hands on your chest and his breath on your neck. You felt his length growing harder through his jeans when you'd pressed your ass into him, the need to feel more of him taking over you.

"Can I see you?" He asked nipping at your ear.

"Yes, yes please."

his hands drifted back down from your chest, dragging his nails softly over your skin until he got to the hem of your sweatshirt and he began lifting it off you. Arousal was starting in your panties, and you bit your lip, trying to hold it together.

Instead of taking off your bra, once your sweatshirt was off, he started pulling down your leggings. He circled around you and dropped to his knees before you to help you step out of them.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark, before he let his hands wander up your body and back down to your hips, then to your thighs.

"Fucking gorgeous." he said pressing a feather light kiss to your hip bone, still on his knees before you.

Butterflies erupted in your belly as he kissed across it to the other hip, one of his hands making its way to your aching core.

His fingers were almost where you needed them most, when you felt the warm wetness of his tongue graze the skin from the top of your panties to your belly button making your mewl softly before he slowly drug his middle finger over your clothed slit.

You had the fleeting thought that you should be embarrassed that you were so wet already but it didn't last long.

He could feel your arousal through the thin fabric and his made his cock strain harder against his jeans. He wanted nothing more than to rip your panties off of you and eat you out until you sobbed his name, but he'd said he'd make you cum with just his hands to prove a point, so he refrained.

Instead, he kept nipping at your thighs and peppering them with kisses as he teased your clothed core, pulling sweet sounds from your lips and heavy breaths.

You felt like your body was on fire. You weren't sure if you wanted to fight or fuck Yoongi with how he was teasing you.

"P-please…Please?" You asked shyly, making his minstrations stop and his head shoot up to take in your appearance.

"Please, what, baby?" he asked, concerned.

"Please, need more. I need more Yoongi Please!" you whined.

That was when he dully drank in your appearance before him. Chest and face flush, eyes needy with lust, your bottom lip between your teeth, all for him.

He could have taken you right there, but instead he stood and made himself comfortable on your bed.

You were confused and frustrated until you saw him motion you over. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and pulled you into him. His legs spread wide and you seated between them, he began trailing hot wet kisses across your neck, making your head loll back and rest on his shoulder as his hands pulled your breasts out of their lace constrains. Playing with them in his hands like they were his new favorite thing in the world, which if he were honest, they were.

He brought his thumb to your mouth, and with out thinking twice you took it in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit, and you felt his cock twitch against the small of your back. He removed his thumb and replace it with the other. once it was good and wet like the first, he swirled each one around one. of your erect nipples.

You squeezed your thighs together tightly, dying for some friction as he pinched and pulled at the wet, erect buds.

"Does my pretty baby still need more?" he teased, a dark chuckle in his tone.

"Mmm hmm." You moaned out, shaking your head yes.

One hand began its decent to your now sopping wet panties. Your legs opened wide for him almost automatically.

He ran a finger over your slit again a few times before focusing his finger to rub small gentle circles over your clit.

You were a moaning mess under his fingers, savoring every touch and tug of skin and fabric. Your hands gripped the fabric of your sheets on either side of his thigh. Your thighs are shaking and you're so close to finally falling over the edge of pure pleasure. Yoongi can tell, with how you've started pushing back against him, your body squirming against him, giving him the pressure and friction his cock had been screaming for since he'd started this adventure with you.

He pulled his hand away, making you cry out at the loss of contact.

"Shhh, Shhh, it's okay. Soon, baby, soon. You still trust me, right?" he asked as he slipped your bra straps off your shoulders.

You were so frustrated you would have cried as your high slipped away, but you did trust him, so you nodded before making your own abrubt movement and leaned forward and whipped off your bra before leaving back against him, hissing him full access to you.

He took you in his hands again, gently roving your body like it was the last time he'd ever get to touch you like this, really savoring every inch of your skin. Finally after what felt like forever you felt friction on your core once again. He had pulled your panties up against your core in a harsh tug that took the air out of you. The lace against your clit feeling sinfully good.

You started wiggling against him as pleasure took you over, moaning with your head thrown back against him. He tapped your core with his open hand, several times, each one a little harder than the last.

You felt wild, like a primal version of yourself was fighting her way to the surface, lured out my the pleasure through out your body.

Slowly his fingers slid into your ruined panties as his other hand made its way to your neck.

Fuck he was good at this!

No, he wasn't good-he was fan-fucking-tastic, he played you like the paiano he loves so much, knowing exactly what key to push when, and exactly with the right amount of force.

"Yoongi please, Kiss me! Please? Fuck, please?" You whined. You needed to taste him on your tongue.

Yoongi's heart fluttered through the thick haze of lust that surrounded his body and soul at your request.

"You sure sweetheart?" he asked, bringing his face closer to yours.

You didn't answer with words, instead you lifted your face to his and took him in a hungry kiss.

He moaned into your mouth and picked up his movements at your core.

He tasted like beer and oranges and something that was distinctly Yoongi.

Your to tongues danced together as moans and heavy breaths filled your room.

You felt his finger circle your entrance, before finally sinking into your heat.

You broke the kiss with a gasp that made him smirk. His finger slid in and out of you, causing the lewdest noises before he added a second finger, only making the squelches even louder.

You wiggled against him again and he made his decent on your neck, licking, sucking, and biting as he fingered you with fervor.

You could feel your high approaching quickly and you found yourself chanting his name like a prayer, getting him for your release.

"Let go, let go baby, cum on my fingers, feel. good for me pretty girl." he spoke into your neck, never letting up his pace.

You'd never had an Orgasam hit you as fast and hard in your life. Never with a toy, and certainly not with another partner.

Waves of what felt like lightning surged through your whole body as your gasped for the air that was knocked out of your lungs. He let you ride out your high on his hand, relishing the feeling of your clenching around his and feeling your sweet release soak his fingers.

Once he saw you were coming down from your high, he held you close and pressed a kiss to your temple.

Everything was quiet and warm then. Your body fully relaxed into him before you spoke.

"Thank you" you said suddenly shy.

"Baby, you don't need to thank me. I wanted to." he smiled down at you.

If there was ever a chance to confess, now was it. The thought few threw your mind on a loop. Surely he felt the same, right? People didn't do this whatever this was if they weren't atleast a little interest led, right?

Yoongi noticed your body tense up. He could tell you were already in your head and his heart sank, thinking you were trying to break it to him that you were still just friends after all of this.

"We… uh or you can do it yourself if you want.. um, clean up. I can go if you want me to." He was nervous. His crush on you bloomed during your intamacy together and he felt like a mess.

You turned quickly in his lap, so you could face him, "Yoongi, wait. I… liked this. Alot. I…. like…. you. I like you a lot too." You stumbled out.

He could do anything but blink, letting your rushed confession skink in.

"You… like me too?" he smiled.

"Yeah," you giggled, "I do."

He smiled your favorite gummy smile, his eyes disappearing behind his cheeks as he grinned bigger than he had since he was a kid.

"Good, me too." he said pulling you into a soft kiss.

You made a mental note to tank your ghost date if you ever saw him again.

You both felt a new warmth glowing through your chests and you each knew this was the start of something wonderful.

#min yoongi #yoongi #suga #Suga smut #Yoongi smut #bts smut #idk what this is it just came out #no edits #min yoongi smut

[foxtophat]

(still trying to figure out how i link these but whatever)

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! i decided to just sit down and hammer out the last edits for this lil one-shot so i could get it out today!

i’m gonna be real with you: the only reason i wrote this fic is because i couldn’t get the idea out of my head.  you weren’t supposed to see mercyverse for another month, honestly!!! but it’s been cold as fuck here and it’s made me fantasize about classic bed-sharing tropes, and so here we are!

this is a bit of a slice of life, to sort of give an idea of how day-to-day these guys all interact, especially now that carmina doesn’t have to pretend john doesn’t exist.  plus, i’m starting to see how the caches might be involved in the overarching plot???? awesome!!!

as usual, the full text is below the cut for my friends who don’t wanna leave tumblr.  i hope you enjoy -- feel free to leave a comment, i loooove hearing from readers. likes and reblogs are also great! kudos are fantastic! adding to the hit counter is just fine by me!!! anything you do to show support for fanfic is a good thing imo.  i hope y’all have a happy wintereenmas or whatever and i will see you guys in 2021 with more mercyverse :)

The best thing Nick can say about the blizzard currently sweeping the county is that he could see that it was coming. They'd gotten almost a foot of snow the night before, which gets him worried about getting snowed in, and as the day progresses, the sky grows an ominous gray that Nick recognizes from a lifetime of living in the area. He knows that they probably only have a few hours left before they're going to want to get inside and avoid the worst a winter storm has to offer.

Nick and John spend the entire morning hauling wood into the house, while Kim does her best to clean out the broken chimney and ensure they won't die of smoke inhalation. They also pull in some pre-made stock that Kim had left in the freezer after it had gotten cold enough to use, as well as a few smaller pieces for miscellaneous projects. But with the storm rolling in overhead, they don't have long; they end up leaving a lot of things for later as the wind whips up around them and turns the snow sideways.

By two in the afternoon, they've closed the doors to officially bunker down for the rest of the blizzard. They have enough wood to last them three days, plus their military rations and plenty of coffee, so Nick isn't particularly concerned about their safety. The only thing he's really got to contend with is boredom, which is easier to stave off in the first few hours of captivity than it is later in the evening.

For the most part, Nick passes the time by sharpening their knives, cleaning their guns, and checking the radio every hour for any emergencies. The blizzard ensures that not many people are on, but at least he gets to check in with Jerome and make sure that Grace is safely in her bunker. It's unlikely they'll get in contact with the trailer park until after the worst passes, but that just means Nick's gonna worry about those jackasses all night.

Kim is probably the only one comfortable with the downtime, making the most of things as she chews on the radio's instructions. When the technical jargon gets to be too much, she switches to entertaining Carmina, who gets bored quick when her only job is to keep the fire going. The easiest distraction comes from card games; the deck they'd had in the bunker had shrunk to only 32 cards, but now that they've got a full deck to work with, Carmina is eager to relearn and master games like Go Fish and Old Maid. Nick doubts Jacob planned to be entertaining kids with his survival gear, but it's not like the guy's gonna complain.

Carmina isn't the only one that Jacob is keeping busy beyond the grave. Ever since they found that cache of his, John has been borderline obsessed with figuring out what the point of it could be. He'll go all day without mentioning the puzzle plaguing him, but any available downtime has him staring at the map and its coordinates. Nick and Kim have both been keeping an eye on it, just in case it turns into something worse than his usual tunnel-vision, but so far it hasn't gotten out of hand. If anything, John seems more aware and alert now that he has something to focus on, and now Nick can even pretend he's a normal guy for conversations at a time before being reminded otherwise.

Of course, the blizzard's making it impossible to find alternate distractions. John does spend part of the afternoon in his room, but eventually, he can't help but come downstairs to mull over the map. There's only one problem with that — they've hung the map up in the radio room, so there's about ten minutes every hour where Nick has no choice but to sit in John's presence. It probably wouldn't bother him so much if there was somewhere else either of them could be, but they're stuck for the foreseeable future. John's looming is just going to be part of Nick's life until the storm passes.

In the interest of keeping the peace, Nick reluctantly tries to have the same level of interest in the random dots that John shows. His attention, however, is distracted by the penciled-in changes that he, Kim and John have all been making to the landscape. The river's wider in some places now, and there are doodles of trees in spaces that were once open fields. A few X's mark places where bridges have collapsed, and Kim's circled anywhere they've made radio contact with. Their notations have scattered across the valley, and have even spread over to the river region thanks to Hurk and his raider gang, but they still don't know anything about the mountains, or even the spaces that are supposedly occupied by bow-wielding religious nutjobs. It's going to be a while before any of them get the nerve to go poking that particular hornet's nest.

John has his little notebook open, but he's not writing anything down. Nick's not sure what he would even put down, since they haven't gotten any more leads since early autumn, but he's always got the thing tucked in a pocket nowadays. Maybe Nick should be mad he outright stole that resource from the rest of them, but — well, come on. He can't yell at the man for taking up journaling, not without flying in the face of every therapist Nick had pretended not to listen to. It's just... well, what the hell is there for him to write down?

"Are you staring for any particular reason?" John asks, because of course he does.

"That's rich, coming from the guy lurking over my shoulder all day." Nick flips off the static-ridden radio frequency, leaning back in his chair so that he can get a better look at the map push-pinned to the wall. "I hear if you look at it just right, you can see a sailboat."

John's clearly not much of a Kevin Smith fan, because he only sighs heavily at Nick's flat joke. "If you have something better for me to be doing, I'm all ears," he says, revealing to Nick at last just how bored he really is. Weirdly enough, being in the same boat as John is somehow reassuring.

"Okay, fine. At least tell me what you're staring at, so I know what to fake interest in."

Even though it's mostly a joke, it lands softly enough that John doesn't take offense. Stuffing the notebook in his back pocket, he shakes his head, gesturing at the map. Getting John to explain himself is usually like pulling teeth, but right now he seems relieved to have someone to bounce his thoughts off of. It's a long way away from the guy Nick remembers saving, enough so that it almost catches his full interest.

"It's nothing in particular, really. I've already spent hours staring at this thing, but I'm... still looking for a pattern, I guess. Jacob was paranoid and secretive, but if there's a hidden code buried in these coordinates, it's beyond me to see it. And the snow was already keeping us from traveling too far — now with this blizzard, we're likely stuck with no new information until spring ..."

John sighs, rubbing his forehead as the pretense finally abandons him. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do until then."

That's certainly a feeling that Nick can relate to. Nick is less of a workaholic than John might be, but that doesn't mean he won't go stir-crazy without his own set of chores. Hell, that's why he's been hanging around the radio in between games of cards with the girls and cleaning whatever he can get his hands on. It must suck extra for John; the guy's been spinning his tires in the dirt for years, probably, and being this close to having a purpose beyond doing whatever chores Nick sets him to must be irritating.

Nick props one leg up against the wall, tapping his boot against the wood as he ponders the dots scattered around the map. There are a few still in the valley, but there's no driving until they thaw out. The points in the mountains are probably inaccessible to anybody, and who knows when they'll get to investigate the old vet center or find the Wolf's Den. There are a couple points nearer the trailer park, though, and not for the first time Nick tries to measure the distance from Hurk to the various red dots. There's one near the lumber mill, and one near where that godawful statue was, and of course one right smack dab in the middle of the original Peggy compound.

Nick can't imagine his truck making it all the way there and back, not without more information about the roads. Hurk might not have the same trouble. "I could send the trailer park a couple coordinates," he points out. "They might get to search before us, and it could cut the work in half."

Despite John's scowl, he only sounds tired as he replies, "I've considered it, but I don't trust them. Then again, I hardly trust myself, so who knows."

"I guess you're shit outta luck, then," Nick says. John takes obvious offense at Nick brushing him off, but hey, what else is Nick supposed to do? "God's giving you a freebie with this blizzard. Maybe you should try catching up on your sleep, or something."

"And ruin the precarious schedule I'm keeping?"

"Jesus, then go read a book! Just — you know, quit hovering over me all day. Don't you know how to entertain yourself?"

John seems unphased by Nick's half-hearted outburst. "This is how I entertain myself. Maps, resources, legal documents — that's probably the only decent outlet I've ever had." He stares at Nick's boot, unwilling to meet his eyes. "At least, it's the only one healthy enough to keep."

That is probably a safe bet, Nick realizes, quickly trying to backpedal away from the open scab that is John's history. "Uh, well, what about before the cult?"

John surprises them both with a brief laugh. "If I could source some coke, then yes, I would be entertained."

"Jesus, John."

"I'm not known for my healthy self-care habits," John points out, a little too smug to be truly self-deprecating. At least he seems to understand what Nick had been getting at originally, deferring with a vague hand-wave. "Is my loitering in the kitchen going to be too smothering for you, too, or is that okay?"

Nick rolls his eyes, flipping the radio back on to scan the channels once again. "It's fine, whatever. Just as long as you've got something better to entertain yourself than snaking the whiskey Jacob left."

"I'm more of a gin guy," John admits.

"Of course you are."

It's still a relief, though, knowing they aren't keeping an alcoholic too near his fix. On top of that, John's relaxed disregard for his past vices settles nerves Nick hadn't even realized were rattled. Sure, there's probably a whole other box of American Psycho- esque worms waiting to be opened up from John's time before Eden's Gate, but at least he seems to have comfortably packed that part of his life away for now. Unlike talking about the cult, John has no trouble dropping the conversation, just as casually as he'd brought it up. He retreats into the kitchen to mull over whatever he's written down already, leaving behind no traumatic story or sad-eyed stare — just the casual admission that he would really like to do some drugs.

Weirdly enough, that is probably the most respectable thing about John to date.

Nick spends another fifteen minutes checking the radio, scanning the channels he knows people use most. He winds up with nothing to show for it — either the storm is making radio communication impossible, or everybody else has given up on their radios. It's only after he's cleared the range twice that he flips the radio off and escapes back to Kim and Carmina, leaving John in the kitchen with a broad, somehow-sarcastic gesture towards the now unoccupied radio nook.

Carmina ropes Nick into a game of Go Fish, which Kim seems keen on losing. Nick isn't surprised — Carmina is a wily player, which is to say that she tries to bluff her way through hands with all the grace of a sledgehammer. Kim's not as willing to put up with cheating as Nick is, but neither of them are capable of even pretending to believe Carmina's poker face. It's going to be a problem one day, but Nick isn't exactly ready to teach his daughter how to lie to his face.

Well, that is until she and Nick are on their third round of Go Fish, and Nick has had to pretend not to see through all of Carmina's gambits.

He asks her if she has any threes, and she scrunches her nose up as she glances meaningfully at her cards. "Go fish," she says, making Nick regret not having Kim sit right behind their daughter as a referee.

"Fine," he grumbles, "If you say so."

Kim blinks skeptically at the pants she's fixing, but she doesn't offer Nick any out. If it weren't for his clumsy hands, maybe he could use darning socks and patching shirts as an excuse to quit playing, but as it stands, the only thing he has other than getting trounced is staring at the map with John. And since he already tried that and found it to be mildly aggravating at best...

"You know, this would be more fun with more people," Nick says, desperately glancing at Kim.

Kim, of course, gives him no quarter. "Why don't you ask John," she suggests rhetorically.

"John," Carmina calls out, "Do you wanna play Go Fish?"

Nick opens his mouth to chastise Carmina, but he realizes there's nothing to discipline her for. Especially not when John flippantly replies, "I think your father's looking to play with fewer cheaters, not more."

"I'm not cheating!" Carmina exclaims, not-so-surreptitiously pressing her cards into her lap to ensure nobody's looking at them. Between that and her guiltily furrowed brow, there's no hiding it. Her poker face needs a lot of work.

"Go Fish isn't even worth cheating at," Nick sighs, gesturing for her cards. "If that's the way you wanna play, at least do it the right way. Here, gimme your cards — John, come over here so I can teach my daughter how to lie to your face."

As if playing a game of cards with John wasn't enough to excite Carmina, she's doubly over the moon when he tells her the rules. After all, a ten-year-old girl is the prime demographic for the game Bullshit, especially when she's given carte blanche to shout cuss words at her dad. On top of that, it seems like bluffing really is half of the fun for his daughter — which is a little intimidating, sure, but at least he knows she's smart enough to understand the utility of lying.

John is... unenthusiastic, to say the least, but that only makes the prospect of humiliating him that much better. A few weeks ago, Nick would've thought John was too fragile to be messed with, but now there's a bounce in his step that will make taking him down easier. He's got to do something to remind himself that this nearly-tolerable man is usually a miserable sonofabitch.

Unfortunately, John has a fantastic poker face. Nick figured that from the get-go, but it's still daunting to play against a bored, uninterested party. That's probably why Carmina avoids John in favor of hounding Nick, calling out "bullshit!" with delightful glee whenever she thinks Nick has dropped the wrong face card or played a nine instead of a King. On the one hand, Nick appreciates that he can read her as well as she can, but on the other hand, he'd really like a chance to beat John. So far, he's the only one who's called John out, and all he has to show for it is the extra six cards in his hand.

Although Kim is on standby for this round, she keeps flashing Nick amused grins whenever Carmina calls bullshit. Nick almost hopes John can hold it together to be mundane for two entire rounds of cards because he wouldn't stand a chance against Kim.

Case in point, John lays down two cards that are meant to be threes, and Kim clicks her tongue disapprovingly. Carmina frowns up at her mom, who only shrugs and suggests, "I would call him out, if I were you."

John's neutral frown doesn't change. "Last I checked, you weren't playing," he says.

Kim only shrugs in response. Nick furrows his brow at Kim while Carmina squints suspiciously from the discard pile to John and then back again. Of course, encouraging a ten-year-old to swear is always going to win out, and so Carmina wrinkles her nose and calls John out with a slightly uncertain, "Okay, bullshit."

Without so much as a grimace of defeat, John lets Carmina flip his played cards — one three, and one dirty, rotten, lying, bullshit seven .

"That's what I thought," Kim says, flippantly triumphant. "Guess you're not as hard to read as you thought."

Nick sure can't tell what John's thinking as he lifts one shoulder noncommittally. "I stand corrected."

"Wait," Nick asks, "What gave it away?"

"I'm not helping you too , Nick," Kim laughs. "That wouldn't be fair."

"It's not exactly fair to help Carmina," John points out. Nick bets he's just as interested in what tell Kim noticed, although he manages to be less obvious about it. At least he can't crack Kim's smug smile any better than Nick, which is some small compensation.

Nick manages to win this hand, if only because his play strategy involves lying as little as possible. That seems to work against Carmina no problem, but Nick suspects John threw the game out of personal disinterest. If it weren't for the howling winds whistling through the roof and second story, John would probably excuse himself from another hand by retreating upstairs, but as it is he manages to sit through one more round of cards, this time with Kim joining in.

Carmina's poker-face doesn't improve by leaps and bounds, exactly, but she manages to fool Nick into picking up a fat stack of cards, so that's something. Too bad he'd been trying to teach her to lie to John , not her parents. Well — at least she's a nice enough kid to only do it for fun. He hopes, anyway.

Kim makes John's loss look more organic, at least, and she doesn't rub it in too badly when she wins. It's extra kind of her considering Nick is the one who called her last play bullshit, leaving him to rot in miserable third place after both his girls. Well, fine . At least Carmina seemed to have fun, even if Nick is now sitting with nearly half a deck in his hands. If the blizzard keeps up for too long, they might have to graduate to poker.

Before they can play any more card games, though, they take time out for dinner. It's almost normal, sitting around the fireplace with their military rations and some hot broth — if they were eating Marie Calendar pot-pies and watching Christmas movies, Nick would even be able to ignore John's presence sticking out like a sore thumb.

The next best thing to watching movies is talking about them, which has become something of a tradition between the Ryes. It all started in the bunker, where Kim and Nick ran out of normal Christmas stories and began taking turns narrating whatever holiday movies they could remember. They've run through all the memorable Rankin & Bass flicks, as well as a couple more contemporary ones, so they're starting to reach for their personal favorites or the very bottom of the barrel plots.

Nick intends to be paying Jingle All the Way a tribute tonight, but as soon as he mentions that the Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle is one of his favorites, he's interrupted by John snorting derisively.

"Let me guess," Nick snaps, "You're one of those jackasses who pretends Die Hard is a legitimate Christmas movie just so he doesn't have to watch good, family-friendly content."

"It is a legitimate Christmas movie," John responds, just petulantly enough to tell Nick he hit the nail on the head.

"Look, Kim and I have already had this discussion — just because it takes place during Christmas doesn't make it a Christmas movie . Set dressing alone isn't enough!"

John raises his eyes towards the ceiling, which is as subtle as his eyerolls can get. "Whatever you say, Nick."

"What's Die Hard about?" Carmina asks, excitedly guessing, "Does Santa get to shoot people in it?"

"That would be a good Christmas movie," Nick replies. "No, it's just about some guy who has to fight bad guys in a building."

"During Christmas," Kim points out.

"Okay, fine during Christmas. But nobody's dressed up like Santa, nobody sings any carols, and there sure as hell isn't any Christmas magic that saves the day, so it doesn't count!"

"So what does happen?" Carmina asks.

Damn it — Nick should have known that talking about an action flick would immediately disinterest her towards any sloppy story about consumerism. She doesn't even know what a mall is — but she knows how to shoot a handgun, and now that Nick's thinking about it, she might need to use the duct-tape shoulder holster trick one day. It would be pretty bad-ass if she knew how, anyway.

"Okay, fine, I'll do it real quick. I don't remember all the parts, so Kim, you gotta help."

Real quick turns out to take almost as much time as the movie itself had. Kim interjects whenever Nick forgets a plot point, but at least he remembers the core conflict. Sort of, anyway — by the time he's done recounting John McClane's tale, John looks visibly dissatisfied, and Kim has a "well, sort of" expression on her face that implies he didn't quite nail the execution. Well, who cares what they think? All that matters is that Carmina is entertained, and of course she is. After all, narrated or not, it's still Die Hard . Just so long as she doesn't ask about the sequels, they should be okay.

The wind is still whipping overhead, and Nick can see nothing beyond the windows. There's no telling how late it's gotten. Although his internal clock insists it can't have been that long since sundown, Carmina has been yawning for a while now, and the fire's gone down again. It looks like sleeping through the storm is the only pastime left for Nick to try.

Carmina takes over stoking the fire for the final time before bed, while Kim makes her way upstairs to gather as much of their bedding as she can carry. John follows reluctantly behind, clearly unhappy with the prospect of facing his own cold room, but Nick figures he can deal for five damn minutes. For his part, Nick busies himself checking the radio one last time, just in case there's an emergency. He doesn't know what they'd be able to do if there was one, but that doesn't stop him from checking anyway.

With the radio situated just under the stairs, it's easy to listen in to Kim stomping around in the room above, desperate to keep her temperature up. Nick had put off too many attic repairs before this winter — he's going to have to make up for that in spring, when he and John can worm their way into the rafters and ensure that their next winter won't turn the bedrooms into a cold wasteland. Of course, even if they did patch up the gaps in the floorboards and do their best to insulate the attic, not much can beat a genuine fire in the middle of a snowstorm.

Nick isn't even paying attention to the radio, so he flips it off and trusts that everyone can keep themselves safe for another night. He hears the whump of fabric as Kim tosses their two biggest, least moldy blankets down for Carmina to start with, and the creak of footsteps on the landing overhead. Kim's voice isn't raised, but it carries down to Nick clear as a bell.

"John, you'll freeze if you stay up here," she says. "Get your stuff and come downstairs."

"It's not that cold," John says, attempting to deflect from one weak excuse with another. "I doubt Nick approved that suggestion."

Well, not technically, no, but Nick had sort of assumed they were already all on the same page. What does John think Nick's gonna do, force him to freeze upstairs so he can hog the fireplace all to himself?

Kim doesn't give the excuses a chance to breathe, replying with parental exasperation. "He and I both agree it's too cold to sleep upstairs." Nick can hear the teasing plain as day when she adds, "Just don't be weird about it."

Sure enough, suggesting John might be making things awkward is enough to get him to shut up and follow orders. Nick briefly longs for the days when John would mutely nod and do as told without any additional goading, but only for a second. Even that is long enough retrospection to remind Nick of how creepy and genuinely alarming it had been. Sure, John might get argumentative or exasperated now, but at least there's an actual person to communicate with. Nick might want to kick his ass more now than before, but he absolutely hated dealing with the hollow-eyed monster John had been.

Besides, it's way more satisfying being a dick to him now that he actually gets offended.

Despite John's furrowed-brow glares, Nick doesn't comment whatsoever on him trailing downstairs after Kim, clutching two actual blankets and a tarp that's weather-worn enough to pass muster. He stands and waits for someone to point him in the right direction as Kim and Carmina do their best to bundle together a soft place on the floor, but Nick studiously ignores him until he makes a decision himself. John takes a spot close to the fireplace, off to the right of where the girls are setting up. It's still plenty removed enough, so that nobody will get the wrong idea and think John is supposed to be welcome down here. Nick wonders who he's trying to convince, but there are so many damn demons in the man's head, it's anybody's guess.

With the fire roaring for the last time that night, all the blankets arranged and everybody looking exhausted despite not doing anything all day, Nick finally gets to crawl into bed and put this whole goddamn blizzard behind him. Hopefully, the weather has the common sense to clear up tomorrow — for now, it's time to shut out the cold entirely.

He must be tired. Nick barely stays conscious as Kim and Carmina climb under the blankets, the cool air rapidly warming as they begin to shift around and get comfortable. He rouses a few times at first as Carmina kicks his leg and Kim bumps into him, but eventually, he finds himself dozing in the silence of a quiet house. Far above them, the wind is whipping through the attic, but from down here, it sounds like a generic white-noise machine; coupled with the crackling fire, Nick is lulled to sleep by the sounds of peaceful normalcy.

Who knows how long it is before Nick finds himself conscious again. Even then, he only wakes enough to hear the dying fire popping by his feet. Maybe he should stoke it. But that would mean moving, and Nick is weighted down on either side beneath warm blankets, so that's a hard no. He tries first to roll towards Kim and Carmina, ready to curl into a ball and conserve even more heat, but his right arm is stuck. It takes a few bleary-eyed blinks to realize what's pinned him down, but he's barely coherent enough to make sense of it.

Sometime in the night, John must've migrated from the no-man's-land he'd made for himself towards the Rye's pile of blankets. Unsurprising, really — but more than a little awkward, given how he's pressed into Nick's side, pinning Nick's arm in place. Worse yet, half of his blankets have been absorbed into the mess that Nick's been using to keep warm, which is going to make extracting himself tricky if not impossible.

While he tries to figure out how to avoid making this mortifying situation worse, Nick watches John for any signs of consciousness. The guy usually sleeps light, but Nick watches his breathing for a solid minute and doesn't catch anything. Either his poker-face is just that good, or John is actually asleep. Deeply, peacefully asleep. Nick had assumed that was impossible.

If Nick were a better person, he'd probably be thankful to see it. Glad to know that John's insomnia might finally be coming to an end. But Nick is mostly just an exhausted, anxious mess, and now he's just wondering how to get out of the situation he's found himself in.

John shifts, and like a guilty ten-year-old, Nick immediately closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep. If he's lucky, John will roll away of his own volition, or at least move enough to let Nick roll over himself. If only he'd decided to sleep on Kim's side — she wouldn't have the same trouble Nick has. She'd just kick him away and be done with it.

Slowly, John moves away from Nick. The relief is short-lived as John pulls back the covers enough to send a cold chill down Nick's side; it's a split-second decision that John immediately regrets, hissing under his breath and letting the blankets fall back into place as he recoils from the freezing temperatures.

Nick can't help his quiet huff of amusement — which is enough to break the illusion that he'd been asleep in the first place. He could probably still fake it, but if he does, John will definitely try to move his blankets, and that is going to be a much bigger problem than tolerating John in his personal space.

"Quit squirming so much," Nick mutters. "Gonna let in the cold."

John is silent and tense beside him, but he does stop squirming. It's like lying near a tense bar of iron. After a brief struggle to figure out what to say, John's embarrassment catches in his voice as he apologizes. "I'm sorry," he rasps. "I — must have been tired."

Nick sighs. "Just don't crush my arm again."

Even though John moves as though Nick threatened him, he stops short of retreating from the blankets entirely. Nick can only imagine how cold it must be — every breath of his that makes it above the blanket-line comes with a faint puff of visible air. No matter how humiliating it might be to cuddle up to Nick, it doesn't seem like John had much of a choice in the matter.

Before John can decide to try escaping again, Nick repeats, "Whatever you do, don't let in the cold."

In for a penny, Nick decides, worming deeper into the makeshift bed so that John can have more room. Rolling over is the easiest way to avoid the mortifying process of finding a comfortable sleeping arrangement. Eventually, they wind up back-to-back; Nick normally wouldn't be able to stand John touching him, but the additional body-heat does a lot to soothe Nick's reservations. Who knew all he needed to tolerate John's physical presence would be cold weather and exhaustion?

The Deputy, probably, which only makes Nick grin in tired relief. At least they would be glad to know that Nick's grown as a person. They'd probably be glad to learn he's finally gotten on-board with not murdering the Seeds in cold blood — even if it took an apocalypse to get there. If they could see the shit he's gotten himself into now, they'd probably...

He sighs. It must be a heavier sound than he imagined, because John whispers, "What?"

"Nothing," Nick says immediately, as default an answer as John's yeses are. But that's not fair, he doesn't think, because they never let John get away with his obvious deflections. As late as it is, it's easy to blame his guilt on his exhaustion. "Just thinking about Rook," he admits.

"Oh."

John is clearly uncomfortable with the topic, but he doesn't react when Nick continues sleepily, "They'd get a kick outta this, is all."

John hums. It's a quiet noise, but Nick can feel it vibrate through John's shirt. If there are two people Nick hates bringing Rook up around, it's Sharky and John. Sure, Sharky's crush was the one that was reciprocated, but Dep had always treated John's flat-footed overtures like creepy compliments instead of outright threats. They'd probably figured John's crush was superficial, whereas Sharky's had been more real than probably anything else Nick had seen the poor sap go through. John's infatuation had been about power, control, and Joseph goddamn Seed. Still, Nick can't help but wonder just how much of it might've been real to John at the time.

"They had a bad sense of humor," John finally responds, quietly enough that Nick almost misses the hurt.

"Terrible," Nick agrees.

When John sighs, Nick recognizes it as a sign of defeat. Whatever he's debating with himself, he's clearly lost. Although he doesn't speak up again, Nick isn't sure he's gone back to sleep. He sure hopes he didn't just instill another restless night in the guy, but that's John's burden to bear. Maybe he can use it to finally find some common ground with Sharky.

Nick isn't even sure that he can fall back asleep, but that doesn't seem to matter. Before he knows it, he's being woken up once more — this time by a glance of sunlight coming in through the upper part of the windows. It's just enough light to wake him, but he spends an exhausted minute staring at the wall over Kim's shoulder as he debates whether or not he's really committing this time. He's going to need to use the bathroom sooner or later — and just thinking that is enough to tell Nick that he's not getting back to sleep again.

John's back is still facing Nick, and Kim rolls away as soon as Nick starts to squirm, which leaves his path to escape much more open than it was a few hours ago. He manages to pull himself free without waking anyone else, but as soon as he does, John worms into the warm spot left behind. Nick should probably be upset, but mostly he just needs to pee. He can kick John out of his spot after he takes care of himself.

Nick leaves the rest of them to sleep as he tiptoes across the living room to the front door. Unfortunately, the door only wedges open an inch before it hits a wall of snow. Unwilling to wake anyone else up with catastrophic noise, Nick heads upstairs, going for the broken window in John's room. It's freezing up here, cold enough to keep meat until spring, and Nick pulls his flannel closer as he crosses the room, trying not to take too much stock of his surroundings. He doesn't care about the tallies John used to carve in the wall by his bed, and he definitely doesn't care to snoop through the pile of clothes that John's been growing in the corner. What he does care about is how easy it is to crawl out onto the roof from the window — after all, this isn't the first time Nick's been snowed in, and he's made escaping his childhood home an art-form.

There's a good three and a half feet of snow on the ground below, blocking any exit from the first floor. At least the gray sky above is calm, and the weather seems to have calmed down some. They'll have to prepare for another couple of inches before the week's out, but Nick bets the worst of it is over. Now he can think about breakfast — more specifically, coffee — and debate the best way to clear the doorways. They need a path out to the hangar, although they can wait another day or two before they'll need to press the matter. Nick's still convinced there's a set of tire chains hiding away in there, but it's not like the roads will be in any condition to drive on for a while yet...

Nick spends so much time thinking about what he's got to do, he forgets to consider how willing the rest of the house will be to pitch in. The top-of-the-snow sunlight isn't enough heat to make up for the lack of a fire, and getting Kim out from under the blankets is gonna be like pulling teeth until he does something about it. Worse yet, John's rolled into the spot Nick had occupied — not exactly sprawled out, or anything, but the guy is irritatingly close to Kim's sleeping back. If he decided to roll one more time, he'd probably end up smacking his face into her shoulder.

Nick considers throwing a fit on principle, but honestly, that's too much work. It's much easier to sulk, glowering at the bed he's definitely not getting back into before getting some logs to stack in the fire. He drops them noisily by John's feet, although he makes every effort not to accidentally pull a Misery on the guy.

The sound of hollow wood clattering on the ground is enough to stir John, who wakes with a sharp inhale, and cause Carmina to groan and turn away from the noise. Kim has probably been awake for a while now, but it won't make a lick of difference until the fire's on.

He turns away to toss the logs semi-haphazardly into the fireplace, then remembers the kindling and turns to get it. John has propped himself on his elbows, but his half-waking confusion causes him to overlook Nick entirely as he stares around the room. Seeing Kim and Carmina asleep next to him is initially met with confusion. He barely seems to recognize the shapes bundled in the blankets, but when he does he recoils in shock. All the nasty comments Nick had thought up take an abrupt backseat as he stops to marvel at the physical repulsion John shows. He's not sure if he should be offended or not. Probably not, but this apocalypse has got Nick wired all wrong.

"She's not gonna bite," Nick says. John whips his attention back to Nick the moment he raises his voice, only for Nick to realize that looming over the guy with a thick block of wood in hand might send the wrong message.

Sure enough, John catches sight of him, jerking back with a startled hiss. " Jesus !"

"Shit, sorry." Nick turns and drops the log, wincing at the noise that he'd moments ago been deliberately making. "Well, judging from that reaction, looks like this isn't the first time a man's caught you in bed with his wife."

John's withering glare is enough to lift Nick's mood right up. He turns his attention back to starting the fire, listening as John slowly shifts his way free of the blankets. Part of him wants to make a few more jokes at John's expense, but that can wait until John's coherent enough to be snide in return.

Nick gets the fire going and turns to follow John, who's made his way into the kitchen to peer out the window. "Completely snowed in," Nick tells him as he gets the instant coffee and the beat-up kettle. "But it looks like the worst of it's over."

"Seems to be," John agrees, adding, "We forgot the shovels in the truck. It's going to be difficult digging them out now."

"Not a lot of other options, unless you wanna stay inside until the big thaw. Don't worry, I'm sure Carmina will be excited to help us dig."

John hums in assent, although his mind seems to be somewhere else. Nick can't help but notice that John's pensive states seem damned near reasonable nowadays. He has plenty to think about, and he seems to be keeping one foot in the here-and-now. He's aware enough of his surroundings that he stops Nick before he can leave John to it.

He tries to stare Nick down, but he can't quite manage it. "Thank you for not..."

John gestures vaguely as the rest of the sentence fails to generate. Nick could probably wait it out, but he's just as embarrassed as John apparently is, and he would rather move past the whole thing.

"Don't worry about it," Nick says. "Just don't get too comfortable cuddling up to me."

Rolling his eyes doesn't hide John's faint smile, but he turns away before Nick can see if it lasts. "That won't be a problem, trust me."

Nick is surprised that he does, even for something as small and inconsequential as a joke. "Grab the mugs when you're done looking for Santa," he says, turning back for the warmth of the fire. A few months ago, Nick might've resented how eroded the line has become between John and his own family, but it's honestly too much work to keep up. At a certain point, they're just going to have to include John in their daily routines — Nick just hadn't expected that point to be made by sharing blankets during a blizzard.

Well, there's one good thing about that, Nick supposes — it means that somewhere up there, the Deputy is watching over them. After all, there's no way in hell random chance has the same shitty sense of humor as Rook had.

#fcnd #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #christmas fic #mercyverse #my fic #i don't even use that tag any more wtf??? whatever #love you guys have a safe holiday <3

[pixie88]

 Never have I ever

Chapter 3 - TNA - After the Wedding.

A/N: At the moment I’m editing all my work, tidying it, shorting down chapters and tiding up my tumblr. Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Find previous chapters HERE under The Nanny Affair - After the Wedding.

Word count: 3394 Might be a lot but so worth it!

WARNINGS: ⚠️ Some adult language & sexual content.

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Pixelberry.

Pairings: Sam x MC - Olive.

Enjoy 😘

4 Weeks after leaving Italy and Sam behind. I take a job at Tallulah's while I wait for interviews for my dream job.

*21 Missed Calls from Sam Dalton*

*13 New Messages from Sam Dalton*

I open up his messages and read the last 3.

[Olive, please talk to me!]

[I need to talk to you! There's something you need to know! Will you just answer your phone.]

[We're back from Italy. I've seen you have cleared your room out. We all miss you. Please meet me. We need to talk, Please.]

After 2 weeks I got fed up and change my number so, he can't contact me anymore. Whatever it is I don't want to know he made his choice when he said I do.

It's Friday night one of Tallulah's busiest night and I'm working with Jace and Ben behind the bar.

Later, as we are locking up Jenny walks in "Hey guys, I thought I'd meet you so we can walk home together." I smile at her. "Awesome, while you are here you can help clean up!" I throw her a damp cloth, she catches it and starts to wipe over tables.

"Why don't we play never have I ever?" Ben asks us, I roll my eyes, "I'm in but there isn't a lot I haven't done." Jace tells the group, "OK, so this game will end up with me, Ben and Jenny sober and you finish the whole bottle?" I tell him before Jenny starts "OK, Never have I ever had sex at a party" Fuck! Parents party's doesn't count right.

Jace and Ben drinks before Jace turns to me "Come on, Olive surely you've sex at a party?" "Nope, don't think I have!" I shoot back at him. "It's can be any party like a high school one or a family member's one!" He's smiling at me and I drink.

"Olive!! Why am I just finding out about this now? What party? Who with?" Jenny asks me. Great, now I have to make up a fake hook up. Thanks, Jace!! "It was a party that you couldn't attend. Anyway, who's next?" I try to change the subject quickly.

It's Ben's go "Never have I ever kissed someone of the opposite sex?" me, Jenny and Jace drink I laugh, "Ben, that one was too easy!" "Hey, it was one way to get you guys to drink, where I didn't have to." he laughs.

"My turn, never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex." Jace says and me, Ben and Jenny drink he looks at Jenny "What? Who?" "Jenny points at me and Jace whips his head round, "It was a dare, when we were like 15?" I say as I laugh.

"Anyway, I believe it's my turn. Hmm, Never have I ever performed oral sex in the middle of a cinema!" I say, trying not to laugh as Jace's eye dart to mine, then he drinks. "Jace!" Jenny shouts at him then turns to me "Olive, How did you know?" she asks me.

Crap I didn't think about this! "Oh! I was there a few rows in front and I caught them as I went to the bathroom!" Jenny looks at me weirdly of course she does, as if I had seen it I would have told her? "Speaking of bathrooms I need to use it. I will be back in a minute" Jenny gets up and heads for the bathroom.

"OK, I know there is something going on with you two, definitely not just friends!" Ben says, "Nothing is going on! I don't know what you are talking about!" I tell him "Olive, I'm anything but stupid!" "OK, Olive and I have done things friends don't normally do, but Jenny doesn't know, and we would like to keep it that way." Jace whispers to him.

"Things meaning Olive was the girl in the cinema?" Ben asks, "OK, It was me!! We had a thing one summer about 10 years ago, but it was over before it began!" I tell Ben then I hear her "Olive, is that true?" Jace and I whip round and see Jenny 2 feet away from us.

No, no, no, no, no! "You and my brother slept together?" "Jen, you were never supposed to find out!" I tell her as I get up from my seat and walk towards her, but she takes a step back not wanting to be near me.

"YOU SLEPT WITH MY BROTHER!! WHEN?!" she shouts at me, "Jen, It doesn't matter, it was a long time ago!" I say, but she is having none of it! "Olive, just tell me how long you have been keeping this a secret?!!!" I can't deny it there's no point "Summer 2010. When you were at your Nan's."

"10 Years!! It all makes sense now! Whenever I called my mom, she would tell me how Jace was out all the time and how she thought maybe he had a girlfriend, then I would call you right after and you were always busy." Her face goes pale "Jen, please you have to listen to me!"

I step towards her before talking again "Things happened that summer, we were spending so much time together working, hanging out and stuff we grew closer and things went from there! I never meant to keep it from you, I just didn't know how to tell you." I step towards her again.

"You slept with my brother, then kept it a secret for 10 years! What kind of best friend does that!" "It's not like I could just drop it into a casual conversation like Jen would you like a coffee and Oh, by the way I lost my virginity to your brother!" "I rather that, then you never tell me and finding out by chance! You were supposed to be my best friend! No, wonder Sam chose Sofia!" Jace interrupts us.

"Jenny, this must be a shock, but what the big deal? Yes, she is your best friend and I'm your brother, but we did nothing wro..." He doesn't finish his sentence as Jenny slaps him before storming out.

I go to chase after her, but Jace pulls me back "I think it's best we let her cool off first!" I start to cry Jace tries to hug me, but I push him away and run off into the kitchen. Did I really just lose my best friend? In a month I lost my best friend and the man I love.

I'm sitting on the floor against the fridge door not sure how much time has passed before I hear the kitchen door open again. Jace wanders over to where I'm sitting on the floor before taking a seat next to me. "Olive, I'm so sorry! When Ben asked about us I shouldn't of said anything." I get up and run off into my uncle's office but Jace follows me in here to.

I'm sat at my uncle's desk Jace comes round and sits on the desk in front of me "Olive, I promise, once she calmed down and thought about it, she'll be fine!" He lifts my chin to look at him. "Don't cry! If, it will make things better with you two I'll tell her it was all my doing! I pursued you, I mean just look at me no wonder you gave into temptation!" I can't help laughing at him "Oh, shut up!" "Ah ah ah, I got you to smile Olive, so that's an achievement!" I roll my eyes before he continues "But seriously she won't be mad about it for long!".

"I know Jenny is mad and I'm sorry," he smiles as he downs his drink. I take a seat next to him on the desk.

"Here is to being free, single and not giving a damn." we clink glasses before downing our drinks again "Argh, does that taste ever gets better?" I ask him "Nope, you just get to drunk to care if you drink enough." I giggle it's hitting me already must be the vodka too.

I sit up to look at Jace, and he looks at me for some reason I feel drawn to him I want to kiss him. He runs his thumb over my lips, then his other hand cups the other side of my face, and he kisses me hard, pushing further on to the desk. His tongue dances with mine, I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. The kiss turns more urgent, his hands slip under my jumper and up to my bra, where he unclips it.

My hands move to unzip his jacket and slip it off before slipping them under his t-shirt, feeling his chest, his abs and his back. He pulls away "Olive, we shouldn't!" "I know, but I don't want to stop.” His hands slip down from my breast and under my tights and into my underwear.

In this moment I need him, and he can tell that by how wet I am as I feel him smile against my lips as he touches me. He whispers on my lips "Feels like you've missed me as much as I've missed you!" I pull him back to my lips and bite his bottom lip. With that, he pulls my legs up around his waist and places me against the cold oak desk.

"I want you...." He says, "Then take me." I tell him without thinking. Then, he pulls down my tights and my underwear, I undo his belt and jeans as soon as he's free of his jeans, his pants are down, and he is inside me and I wrap around him adjusting to his size.

I start to move up to match his pace. His lips move to my collarbone, then back up to my earlobe before he whispers into my ear "God I've missed this!" "Me too!" I tell him.

He thrusts harder, each one making me cry out louder than the last. I can't hold back anymore, I call out his name as I hit my peak, he hits his own right after and my head collapses against the desk, he kisses me on the lips.

We get up and grab our clothes to redress, Jace looks at me "Olive, we should forget that happened with everything you have going on at the moment I think it's best." "Yeah, you are right! Nothing says sorry to your best friend for sleeping with her brother like sleeping with her brother again!" I say with a laugh, and he smiles at me.

The next day.

"Olive, wake up!" I feel someone poke me "Olive, come on wake up," I start to stir when I realize where I am. I turn to see its Jace pokes me "Morning, Did you sleep OK?" he asks me as I sit up "Yeah, I slept fine. I don't remember getting home." I then grab my phone to check the time.

He smiles at me "Must've been all that drink. I'm heading to the gym want to join me?" "OK, I guess" We grab our stuff and head to the gym. Jenny's bedroom door is shut, she's probably still asleep.

As we walk into the gym a lady behind the desk smiles as she spots Jace and it drops as she spots me with him "Jace, You just can't stay away from this place?" she says to him with a flirty tone, and he laughs as he leans on the desk to talk to her "Nah, I need my morning workout." he winks at her.

"So, is she with you? Are you PTing now?" the lady points at me "Yeah, she is. Olive this is Emma, Emma this is Olive," I just smile at her, but she doesn't return it "Olive huh? That's a weird name! So, you will need a membership?"

I go to speak, but Jace beat me to it, "Actually, it's Olivia, but she prefers Olive and no, she won't unless she wants one?" "Well, Olivia is a much nicer name I don't get why you would shorten it but each to their own I guess. Jace as for using the gym without a membership, I'm not sure I can today. Sneaking one in is easy but two." I roll my eyes.

"Oh, come on Emma, Olive won't be no bother? I promise to keep her out of your bosses view" her face goes red she doesn't like that idea one bit and looks round "Ermm...I guess I can let you both in but you have to be quick," she gets up from her desk and takes us down some stairs to the gym and uses her card to let us in.

"Olivia, the ladies showers are down there once you are done, clean towels in the lockers and soap on the shower wall, be quick" We head into the gym and start.

Later I head to the shower, grab a towel and undress to take a shower it's so warm on my skin, I start washing my hair and let the water run down my face.

I hear the door to the shower room, open "Olive, are you done yet?" Jace asks, "Oh, nearly! How are you done so quickly?" "When Emma means quick she means quick, I've learned otherwise she comes in to check on you" Of course she does! "OK, I'm coming out now I just need to dry off and get dressed." When I come out of the shower I see Jace sat on a bench I was expecting him to be at the door.

"Are you going to sit there while I get dressed?" he smirks "Olive, I've seen you naked plenty of times. But if it makes you feel better I'll turn my back?" "Yeah, if you could that would be great."

He turns and I start to dry myself "So, Emma, what's the deal with her?" I ask him "What do you mean, Olive?" "She seems erm...smitten with you." "Does she? I haven't noticed." He says with a laugh.

"You have! She seems to bend over backwards for you and she definitely doesn't like me." "What are you asking Olive? Why are you even bothered?" "I'm not bother I just thought she was rather rude to me and you can see who you like." "I did notice. There's nothing going on between me and her there never has and never will be." "So you flirt and slip her a few lines to get her to let you use the gym and shower? She's pretty." "Well, she might be pretty, but she's not my type at all. I do flirt with her to use the gym when I want yes, but doesn't everyone?" "I don't!" I shoot at him as I start to get my clothes on.

"Oh, you do Olive!" "What! No, I don't!" "You do! That's why last night happened. You had an itch you needed scratching!" I don't have an answer for that, so he doesn't say anymore about it. "Are you dressed yet?" "Nearly just my boots." he turns round.

We head out of the shower room and up the stairs at the top Emma looks up from her desk Jace smiles at her before saying "Thanks!" as we leave.

This shift goes by pretty quickly around 8pm it starts to quiet down, so I restock the snack bar as Jace comes over to me, "A bunch of suits just walked in Olive, I need a hand," I put down the crisp packet I have in my hand and turn to serve these guys and that's when I spot Robin the other side of the bar, he notices me straight away.

"Olive!! How are you? Where have you been?" "Robin, Hey. I'm great thanks. What about you? I've been here and staying at Jenny's. How was the rest of the Italy trip?" I smile at him "It was OK, I guess. I'm good thanks, in fact I'm excellent now I'm joint CEO of Dalton part of Dalton and Russo Enterprises with Sam!" "What? Joint? But I thought Sam was going to be sole CEO?" "Oh, Olive you missed so much. When is your break? I'll fill you in on everything!" I look at the clock.

"I could take one in 5 minutes once we've served this lot" "OK, come and find me in 5." He walks off and sits down we 4 other people. My head is spinning with questions. What happened? And why are they joint CEO's? I remember Sam's texts [There's something you need to know] [we need to talk] Now I'm more curious than ever I tell Jace I'm taking a break and go off to talk to Robin and suggests we sit away from everyone, so we walk over to a table in the corner.

"So, Olive why did you leave Italy so suddenly? Why did you quit?" Robin asks, "Don't act like you don't know why Robin! I never took you for stupid." "Olive, I told you that the only person that was going to get hurt in all this was you!" "I know. But enough about that. What has happened? Why are you and Sam joint CEO?".

"Well about a week after you left, Sam seemed pretty down, we were all at the villa and Sofia made a toast to her and Sam and their long happy marriage they were about to have. Sam just flipped told her it wasn't a happy marriage, and he didn't love her and never could. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to Sofia when she opened it was papers telling her he wanted an annulment." "What?" "Yeah, he wants out of their marriage, Dad wasn't happy but Sam managed to talk him round and convince him to let us be joint CEO's. Which is actually alright, I get the CEO title, but half the work load!" he laughs.

"What about the merger? Sofia?" "Well, apparently you can't unmerge companies once they are merged, so we run the Dalton side and Paolo runs the Russo side. Sofia, she stayed in Italy. I think she had a fancy man on the side." She definitely did! "Sam has been looking for you, he'll be happy when I tell him you're working here!" "No, Robin you can't tell him I work here or you've seen me!" "Olive, why?" "I need to move on with my life and as crappy as it is." "OK, but the boy's miss you and come on you've not done too bad! You landed a job pretty quick and a place to live." "It's my uncle's bar, hence why I got it so quick." "What about your parents? Jenny?" "My parents living in Dubai they moved there 3 years ago for my dad's job. Me and Jenny kinda had a falling out." "Oh! Not over anything serious I hope?" "Kinda, but I'm sure we'll work it out." OK, anyway I better get back to the guys. Hopefully see you round Olive and take care of yourself!" "Thanks, You too Robin".

I head back to the bar where Jace is "Who was that?" he asks, "Oh, That was Robin. Sam's brother" Jace's facial expression changes "Was he bothering you?" "No, not at all. He was just asking why I left so suddenly." I don't mention what else he told me. "OK, now you're back, I'm going for my break" "OK, see you in a bit."

It's the end of our shift, and we are locking up, and we take the subway home "Do you think she'll forgive me?" I ask Jace. "Olive, there's nothing to forgive. Jenny just needs to get over herself OK?" He smiles at me "OK, we better head in."

Jace opens the door with his key the flat is dark, maybe she's in bed it is pretty late. Jace turns on the lights, and we head to the living room she's not there as we walk to the kitchen her bedroom door is open. Jace turns on the light and her bed hasn't been slept in but there's a note on the bed. I go over and pick it up and read it out.

'Olive and Jace,

I've gone to stay with mom and dad please don't call or text. I need space from you both. I'll contact you when I'm ready to talk.

She's gone!

Jenny x'

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 4.

#tna #choices tna #sam dalton #sam x mc #sam #robin flores #pixelberry #choices #dalton #fanfic #pb the nanny affair #pb tna