#i know what the answer to this is: it doesn't matter. BUT IT MATTERS TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Teeth

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Pernille does it again

"I don't want to talk about it," Pernille says as Georgia slides into the cubby next to her.

"I wasn't going to say anything!" Georgia lies.

"I still don't want to talk about it," Pernille insists," No comment. I'm not talking about it with anyone. I'm not answering any questions."

"You don't need to," Georgia assures her," Because your kid is letting everyone know what happened."

Currently, you're on Sydney's lap, pealing back your upper lip to show off the gap that your two front teeth used to occupy.

They'd both come out last night.

Only one had been wobbly.

Pernille buries her head in her hands and forces herself not to scream. "I need to teach her that not everyone needs to know our business."

Georgia chuckles. "I don't know," She says," She seems pretty happy to tell everyone. You'd take that joy away from her?"

"It's humiliating."

Georgia keeps giggling, especially when you gesture wildly over to Pernille to accentuate your story.

It was an accident again, like the first time you lost a tooth. Thankfully, a ball hadn't been kicked in your face but this time it seemed liked it was much worse.

It had been hot out yesterday and Magda insisted on a barbeque while her family was visiting.

You'd been inside, dragging your new schoolwork down to show your grandparents because you'd gotten a certificate for it.

You'd taken your time so Pernille thought it would be a little funny to scare you as you came out.

She'd jumped at you when you came through the door and you'd shrieked, jumping in the air before stumbling.

Everyone was laughing before they realised you had gone face first into the steps of the outside decking.

Magda sat you up which was when you spat out your two front teeth into her hands.

It was mortifying that it had happened a second time, Pernille accidentally being the cause of your teeth falling out.

This time though, a little older than the first, you didn't seem to care much about the pain in your mouth, just that you were going to get a big cash out from the tooth fairy.

You also seem incapable of keeping the story to yourself, having come into training today ready to show off your tooth gap, your newly acquired lisp and the amount of money you got.

It's the money bit that has Magda staring daggers at Pernille from across the locker room and Pernille agrees that she may have gone overkill but she'd already set a precedent and she doesn't want you staging a revolt against the tooth fairy for your lack of money this time.

No matter what Magda says about explaining the concept of inflation to you, Pernille knows that you won't accept anything else then the ten euros you got previously.

Plus the amount added on that Pernille knows will wave her feeling of guilt.

"The tooth fairy gave me thirty euros!" You tell Sydney and Scottish Sam," Fifteen for each tooth!"

"So cool!" Sydney tells you while Sam's mouth hangs open in shock.

"Because of inflation I got more!" You continue," The tooth fairy wrote me a note saying so. I don't know what inflation is but I like it!"

"I'm sure you do," Magda says, picking you up and setting you back on the floor," But let's put the money away now."

"Thirty euros?" Georgia hisses at Pernille as you and Magda go off to put your money because in your little puppy purse," Can you be my tooth fairy?"

"Don't," Pernille groans," It's guilt money. I feel really bad."

"Why? They were bound to come out at some point."

"That's not the point! They weren't ready and now she's got no front teeth."

"But she's thirty euros richer. That has to count for something."

"It counts for me not sleeping in my bed tonight," Pernille mutters.

You're back to flitting around the room now, practically skipping on air to tell everyone how Pernille made you smack your face against the decking steps in front of the whole family and how you had to have your barbeque cut up for you instead of just scoffing it down like everyone else.

That seems to be your main annoyance with this whole thing. How you couldn't eat your barbeque like normal. In the grand scheme of things, Pernille supposes, you could have had a much worse reaction.

She should take the small wins when they come.

The small wins like now as you sit on the bench next to Magda and inspect your gap with your tongue.

The space from the wobbly tooth is already being filled in, its replacement already coming in.

You seem to be fairly distracted by inspecting your mouth rather than complaining about your gums hurting so Pernille will take the win for what it is.

"Momma," You call out to her," Next time, can you knock out three of my teeth so I can get more money?"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

[peppermintquartz]

Explicit.

Yes, with the Daddy kink.

*

"God, I hope so."

Tommy can't believe those words left his mouth, but what is a guy to do when Evan Buckley is sitting so close looking delectable?

Evan only gazes at him, smiling in a way that seems to be hinting at something naughty. Tommy refuses to squirm in his seat. He's thirty-nine years old, he's not going to be a shy little prude about what he likes. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirts and the leather cuffs.

"I don't know, Tommy," says Evan slowly, spearing some salad on his fork, "I may need some persuading to, uh, open up to you more about my daddy issues."

He chews and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Okay, that's it.

"Challenge accepted." Tommy feels a slow heat building at the base of his spine, but tucks that away for now. The dinner is really good and he's not about to deprive Evan of the energy he'll need. And Tommy is going to make sure Evan expends a lot of energy.

They chat about other matters: about flying for the army versus flying for the fire department, about bartending, about how Evan sued the fire department for wrongful termination ("yes, I'm on blood thinners, and yes, I'm very careful"), about the first car Tommy restored.

By the end of the meal, Tommy is less concerned with what they're talking about and more concerned about Evan's wine-stained lips and dark eyes. And from the way Evan's foot is rubbing up and down Tommy's calf, he thinks the younger man isn't interested in conversation any longer either.

"Let's clean up," Tommy suggests. He doesn't mean to drop his voice further, but the words come out in a low rumble. Evan's eyes darken even more.

They load up the dishwasher together, Tommy knowing enough about Evan not to usurp the task. When Evan closes the door to the machine and starts it up, Tommy reels his boyfriend in and says, "Good boy."

Evan swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I just put some plates in the dishwasher. That's hardly difficult."

"True," Tommy allows, then swivels Evan around to face the sink, where the salad bowl is sat. "Wash that now, hmm?" He keeps his hands on Evan's hips as Evan washes up quickly, and firmly pins him against the counter when he takes the bowl, his arms going around his boyfriend to dry the wooden bowl and set it aside.

"Tommy?" Evan sounds a little breathless. "What are you..."

"Shh. Good boys don't interrupt." Tommy turns him around again, noses along Evan's jawline and breathes him in. He flicks his tongue out and plays with Evan's earlobe before biting softly on it. Evan shudders and moans, wrapping his arms around Tommy's waist and shoulder.

Tommy feels his pulse kick up another notch. He pushes a thigh between Evan's knees, and gratifyingly Evan allows it. Tommy needs to get closer, and reaches down to hook one leg up. Evan goes along with it, gasping when Tommy starts licking and sucking on that soft spot under his ear. He's hard against Tommy where their groins are pressed together, and his fingers are digging into the older man's back.

"Alright, baby, do you want it here or on the bed?" Tommy growls. He wants it to be good for Evan, he needs it to be good for Evan. He needs to see Evan undone completely.

"Bed," Evan says.

Tommy begins to move, then pauses. A wicked little smile crosses his face and he leans back to make sure Evan can see it. "That's not how you answer nicely, Evan."

Evan is flushed and his pupils already wide with lust. His mouth - and what a pretty, pretty mouth, Tommy wants to do all kinds of filthy things to it - is open, his breathing labored. "Tommy, bed, please."

Tommy is very pleased that he's strong enough to keep Buck pinned against the counter. He rocks his hips forward, hissing at the pleasurable pressure. "Ask nicely."

"I did, I said please!" Evan protests. He tries to push away from the counter but with one leg firmly hooked around Tommy's waist, he has little leverage.

Tommy leans forward to lick his way into Evan's mouth, unable to bear another second not tasting his boyfriend. "Ask Daddy nicely now."

Evan freezes for a second. His hands tighten where he's clutching Tommy, and for a heartbeat Tommy wonders if he's spooked the younger man.

Then Evan grabs Tommy by his neck and practically inhales him with hungry kisses. With a tiny jump, he wraps both legs around Tommy and, oh, that feels very encouraging, where Evan's hard cock is pressed against his abdomen.

"Take me to bed right fucking now, Daddy." It's Evan's turn to growl, and Tommy is very glad his knees are strong enough to hold him and Evan up.

It takes some tricky maneuvering before they do end up on the mattress, Tommy having had to relinquish his prize so they can both take the stairs without falling and hurting themselves, and they're stripping with the efficiency of men who know exactly what they want right now. Evan grabs the lube from the nightstand and Tommy tears open a condom.

It never fails to awe Tommy that his partners trust him so much with their bodies, and even more so with Evan. The younger man sighs into the pillows and allows Tommy into him with minimal prep, only the faintest of grimaces on his face where it may sting. Despite every nerve telling him to claim, Tommy holds still, chest heaving and arms trembling with the effort not to just thrust into that slick, hot tightness.

Evan's eyes flutter open. His pupils are blown and his lips redder than before. "Take me," he whispers. "Take me hard. I wanna feel it for days."

Tommy smacks Evan's thigh lightly. "Ask properly."

Evan licks his lips, a look of mischief fluttering over his face. His cheeks are pink and his hair fluffed up. "I don't want to."

The downfall of saints, this one, Tommy thinks, and thrusts, once, to remind Evan exactly who's in charge, and begins to pull out. "Really? Then I guess I'll just take a nap instead-"

"Wait, no, Daddy," Evan gasps, and his cheeks flame even darker with want.

Tommy is shaking inside with desire but he holds still. "Ask. Properly."

Evan blinks up at him. A coy smile curves his lips. "Please, Daddy, may I have more?"

Tommy kisses him. "Much better." He flexes his hips and thrusts into Evan's hot body. It is so much better. He loses himself to the rhythm and the feel of sweat-slick skin. Evan spreads his long legs even more and wraps his limbs around Tommy, breathing encouragement and pleas for moremoremore.

Reaching between them, Tommy wraps his big hand around Evan's hard cock. "Daddy's gonna take care of you," he rasps, stroking fast and firmly, his callused hand wet with Evan's precome. Evan whimpers, fingers raking over Tommy's back. Even in the haze of lovemaking, Tommy hopes Evan will leave scratch marks. It'll be satisfying to have visible reminders of pleasure.

"Please," Evan sobs when Tommy's thumb rubs over the head of his cock over and over, the pad of his thumb pressing into the wet slit. "Please, please, please Daddy please-"

Another soft cry and Evan's spilling hot and slick all over Tommy's hand, clenching down on Tommy's cock. Tommy valiantly strokes Evan through his climax until he's limp and breathless, telling him you're a good boy Evan, such a good boy for me, and suddenly Evan has a hand buried in Tommy's hair and he's squeezing down on Tommy's cock again - whatever Evan has been reading up on to build those muscles, Tommy is going to get a subscription, it feels incredible - and then Evan is whispering in his ear, "Come for me, Daddy, show me how I've been a good boy." And Tommy's vision whites out for a second, all sensation rushing inwards and exploding through his nerves.

When his brain comes back online, he realizes he's lying on his boyfriend like a huge immovable rock and carefully pulls out to roll to the side. Evan makes an unhappy sound as Tommy releases him from his weight, but snuggles closer once Tommy's got rid of the condom.

"I know I liked that," Tommy mumbles, his eyelids growing heavy from the post-coital hormones. "But was it good for you?"

"Yeah, yes it was," Evan replies, sounding just as sleepy. He drapes a long leg over Tommy's. "We'll be stuck together if we don't shower though."

Part of Tommy wants to say he doesn't fucking care, but another part knows that Evan won't appreciate the discomfort. He grunts and levers himself up onto his elbows.

In the dim light, Evan's an adorable, debauched angel with mussed hair and flushed skin. Tommy wishes he were twenty again, just so he can go one more round with Evan immediately.

"We can shower together," he says instead, and gets a sweet kiss. Then he adds with a hopeful bat of his eyelashes. "Shower sex?"

Evan raises his eyebrows. "We'll see if you're... up to it." With another twinkle and smirk, he tacks on, "Old man."

Delighted, Tommy smiles and grabs Evan's wrist. "Challenge accepted."

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #yes there is sex #i will upload to my ao3 too

[melodic-haze]

I WAS WAITING FOR THE ASKBOX TO BE OPENED AGAIN WOOHOO…

anyway. How about a belly bulge from a strap with Robin? Like, trying out different straps with Robin and the one is bigger then the bigger belly bulge on her stomach is!!!

-🐿️

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Robin x dom!fem!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader with a strap but that's probably evident HAHAHA, squirting

☆ — NOTES: I JUMPED ohhh 🐿 how I love your mind ik you sent this when I last opened my askbox I'm so sorry it took this long 💀💀💀💀💀

I went crazy insane before sitting down to write this bc HOLY FUCK

For the record I'd like to think that this was Robin's initial idea. She got way too curious and decided to just maaaybe suggest experimenting with sizes :3

And maybe she wants to see how it feels to be stuffed silly but shhh you don't need to know that (you probably already know LOL)

You start with a smaller size before buying new ones that are bigger than the last......but you just can't help but notice that whenever you both look around the site for another one, she always seems to linger at a particularly large one before you gently nudge her and snap her out of whatever train of thought she was in

So you end up buying that exact one in secret before surprising her, in which case?

The moment you revealed your 'mystery gift', you find that you've never seen Robin's eyes practically sparkle this much in such a peculiar way; it shined with a humorous mix of surprise, amusement and heated desire.

"Is this..?"

"I've noticed your eye on it more than once—for a multi-talented performer, you're not exactly discreet," you joked.

She smiles bashfully, "I suppose I've let my excitement show once or twice..."

"Really."

She laughs in that melodic tone you've easily grown to love, "Oh, hush, you!"

But then her eyes drift back to the new toy you've bought her.. and her hand idly strokes the false appendage, the size comparison between it and her hand being.. definitely something.

You hadn't even realised you were staring at her (and her movements) until you heard her clearing her throat, "Y-Yes? Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

She gives you a light smirk, the wings on her head lightly flapped as if it were tittering, "I was going to ask if you'd like to try it out on me but if you're preoccupied with something, then-- mmph! ..Mm..."

You had silenced her with a quick yet deep kiss, the dildo pressing down on both your stomachs and earning you an excited moan before you drew back, "Was that enough of an answer for you, angel?"

"Mhm..." Her hand went to feel the toy leaning on her stomach, as if a prelude for the real event, "More than satisfactory."

Oh god when you get down to it, it's like she's absolutely hypnotised. Robin's DEFINITELY a lot more, for the lack of a more eloquent term befitting for such a lovely lady 🥰, sluttier and you've found that out for a bit now, but you've never seen her like this—all that's happening right now is Robin blowing you and yet it's as if she's already so dumb and eager as she drools on your cock. Can't even fit it in her mouth, what's the chance that she'd fit in her cunt????

Turns out she's determined to have you (and your new toy) inside of her no matter what 🤷‍♀️ gotta respect the woman's perseverance 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

She winces when you try to put it in at first (with a LOT of questioning her beforehand about whether she's sure she can handle it, which she says she can but still) and you take your time with it, letting her adjust to the stretch little by bit. Something inside her wants you to just shove it all in but she 1) knows better and 2) doesn't want to worry you 🫶🫶🫶🫶

It takes a while but when you finally bottom out inside her she is WEAK AS HELLLLLLL❗️❗️ Her eyes are half-lidded, her breaths fast, drool gathering on the corner of her mouth.......oh she's already gone and you haven't even started moving yet

The moment you do though??? Ohhh boy oh boy oh BOYYYYYYY her wings are a DEFINITE tell on how she's feeling. With the way they're flapping and twitching as you piston her deeply, you can easily say she was enjoying it ☺️

And alsooo the moment you've all been waiting for :33333

You had been so distracted with your Halovian lover's reactions that you almost didn't notice the very noticeable bulge on her...

Oh. Oh.

"Robinnn..." You cooed with a clear smirk on your lips, "I'm sure you can manage to look down here, right? It'll be worth it."

You accentuate your point further by gently grazing your hand onto the evident bulge on her stomach disappearing and reappearing every time you plunged the strap inside her. She looks down at the feeling with unfocused eyes before they widen at the realisation...

And then you push.

The reaction you get is one you wish you recorded for preservation—she screams as her nails claw on the sheets underneath her, hips shaking up and pushing herself even further into your cock. The tip ends up hitting a particular spot and her eyes roll back as you feel some sort of pressure hitting onto your strap.

The moment you pull out, a jet of liquid squirts out and hits you and the strap both. It takes a while before her orgasm actually starts to recede.

...

And you need her to do that again, you resolve within yourself, as you use the wings on her hips as handlebars and pull her back on your dick without a warning.

You don't stop for a while, that much is clear

Yk what else is clear? That Robin's a SIIIIZE QUEEEEEN I love her 🥰🥰🥰 She's soooo stretched out and fucked out by the end of it and yk what the best part is???

She makes sure to show you just how much she appreciates her very big gift in any way you'd want ☺️☺️

She's gonna have so much fun the day after when she goes to work ahahahah no fr I'd say jokes but I'm really not. She'll think about what you've done and what you now have and she'll feel her pussy clench as she gets distracted by her own thoughts when she REALLY shouldn't be 😭

#hazy demos! #hazy explicits! #anon fandom: 🐿! #robin x reader #hsr robin x reader #robin smut #hsr robin smut #sub robin #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail smut #sub honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr smut #sub hsr #hsr women #hsr women x reader #hsr women imagines #hsr women smut #sub hsr women

[lenaboskow]

If you truly believe that Tommy hasn't changed, why would Chim and Hen keep hanging out with him (Bobby Begins Again)? Also, there's the fact that Tommy, for the most part, wasn't an instigator. Rather, he tried to keep to himself and not be involved. It's clearly a shitty thing but no uncommon, especially in toxic work environments. Was he dickish? Sure, would Chim think highly of somone openly racist? Based on the latest episode (spoiler: his interaction with Gerrard) he clearly uses the words "good to see you haven't changed" which I think it's intentional to show that Tommy (unlike Gerrard) changed.

You're entitled to your opinion, and you can also hate Tommy for no reason. No one is going to force you. I think saying you just hate him for no reason would be better than trying to build a narrative that the show clearly disputes. Last but not least, Lou giving his headcanons for the character he portrays isn't that uncommon. In fact, many actors do, and it helps them get more into character.

lol i wasn't going to answer this but then i read the "wasn't an instigator" line and i just had to. let's take a look at some of the things tommy said or did in the begins eps...

in chimney begins, he starts by saying "did you forget to tip the delivery driver?" though not explicitly stated, it's implied to be racially motivated because they had ordered chinese food, and chimney is asian. then he proceeds to actively participate in the isolation, once saying "you still here?" to chimney as they return to a call. the most notable time is during the locker room scene where chimney is trying to reach out an olive branch, and tommy actively pushes it away, saying he doesn't think about chimney enough to hate him, but if he did he was sure he would. the only time chimney gets a semblance of an apology is after he saves tommy's life, and that's a messed up way of thinking, no matter how you spin it.

then, we have hen begins. oh boy. gerrard makes comments to hen, and chimney stands up for her, while tommy is standing by letting it happen (this isn't instigating, but it's a notable mention). then, we have "new york bitchiness is a compliment?" which, wow okay. that entire meal he participated in the conversation while chimney tried to drive it away. finally, i know a lot of people think tommy was the one to turn gerrard in, but the way he looked pissed off in hen's speech at the end, and the way he looked like he didn't want to apologize makes me think otherwise.

i don't know what happened off screen for hen and chimney to be friends (or at least civil) with him now, but i do know that recent events have shown tommy is still the same dickish (your words) person he was in the begins episodes, this time without the racist and sexist undertones. some examples include, but are not limited to:

calling buck "kid" and telling him in a condescending tone that eddie was allowed to have more than one friend

the closet comment

leaving buck at the curb the way he did

the bachelor party

the way he acted at the ceremony (looking like he was waiting for buck to stop talking and "enjoy it while it lasts)

so i think it's safe to say i'm not just "building a narrative". the show is proving that tommy is still the same person he was before, he just toned it down.

finally, i'm not even going to touch lou because that story is rapidly developing and i can't keep up.

#911 spoilers #911 #911 on abc #911 abc #anti tommy kinard

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 6

A/N: I'm on a roll with this one and I have the series planned to the end, so don't be surprised if I get the rest of these out relatively quickly. I'm excited to take you on the roller coaster that is the end of this one. But I think you'll love how it ends! Just hang in there!

Need to catch up? Masterlist here.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, implied sex, alcohol use, angst

Word count: ~2.7k

Reminder: this is FICTION. Please do not come at me if your favorite people don't act the way you think they would/should. It's called fanFICTION for a reason. Thanks 😬

She fades into the background easily, watching the feud that happens between Ann Margaret and Priscilla, her love for him never diminishing, but they never finish the conversation that they started.

******

Vivian spends the next year in abject misery. She moves to California in an attempt to get away from anything that reminds her of Elvis and try to jumpstart her acting career. That doesn't cure her lovesickness though. She misses Elvis desperately, kicking herself for wasting all that time telling him no. But then she realizes that even if they were together, he probably would've left her for Ann Margaret. The few times she does see him, it's obvious that he's smitten. This is the most in love she's ever seen him and she desperately wants to be happy for him. But she just can't. She runs through several guys before realizing that she's tired of the emptiness. She takes a vow of celibacy and tries to focus on her career and her hobbies. Writing poetry helps a little, but most of it is about Elvis so she ends up crumpling it and throwing it in a trash can or a fire. Just when she runs out of money and is about to go back to her stepfather in Germany, she stumbles upon modeling and finds herself more successful at that than acting. She throws herself into it, trying to ignore her pain. All in all, there doesn't seem to be a reason to go on, but she keeps trudging along, hoping something will change eventually.

******

Elvis spends the next year in a lovestruck bubble of happiness. Ann Margaret challenges him and enlivens him and brings out the best in him. She's everything he never knew he wanted. He knows he still has Priscilla at Graceland, and at night, after Ann has fallen asleep, he feels the guilt of leaving her behind. The promise to marry her still hangs over his head.

But in the really late hours on nights that he struggles to sleep at all, he thinks about Vivian. Where is she? What is she doing? Does she ever think about him? He knows how unfair it is to even have that thought, but it's there nonetheless. A couple of times his mind even drifts to the conversation they started and didn't finish. How might things be different if they had finished it? Would he have said no to Ann if he knew he had Viv? That's a question he can't answer.

Overall, he's happy. He's having his cake and eating it too.

And then Ann Margaret does an interview where she tells the reporter that she and Elvis have plans to get married. He knows this isn't possible, no matter how much he loves her. He has an agreement with Priscilla's family to marry her. And beyond that, he's not even sure that Ann would be the best choice for his wife. At the end of the day, she's too much like Vivian, too independent and headstrong. Too focused on her own career. That doesn't mean he wants to end things with Ann Margaret necessarily, but Priscilla doesn't give him an option. She wants the contract honored, and soon.

So Elvis ends the affair with Ann Margaret shortly after his conversation with Priscilla. He knows he's done the right thing, but that doesn't mean he isn't hurt. He sinks into a deep depression, refusing to leave his house or see anyone, including Priscilla. After a week, his Memphis mafia guys start to get really concerned. They're not sure what to do to bring him out of this funk.

Finally, one of them comes up with the idea of calling Vivian. They know he hasn't seen her in months, but she's managed his low moods before with grace and strong but subtle encouragement that eventually brought him back. She's their last hope, a desperate grasping at a final straw. They call her, hoping she'll agree to come.

******

Vivian find herself on the porch of Graceland with a grocery bag in one arm, knocking loudly with her other hand. She's not quite sure what she's doing here, why she agreed to come, but here she is. Turns out her heart can't tell him no, no matter what he's put her through.

She knocks again. She's been standing out here for almost fifteen minutes and the bag is starting to get heavy. The bottles clink together as she shifts.

"Elvis! It's me!" She breaks down and hollers through the window, hoping he will hear her. Finally, she hears movement inside the dark house. After a few more minutes the door opens just a crack.

"What are you doing here, Viv?"

"The guys called me. So I'm here. With presents." She jiggles the bag in her arms and the bottles clink again.

"I don't drink, Viv."

"Yeah? What have you got to lose?" She hears him sigh deeply and then he opens the door. He's disheveled in a way she can barely comprehend. His hair is everywhere and he clearly hasn't shaved recently. He has on a robe with no shirt underneath and pajama pants.

"Oh, Elvis."

"Don't fucking say anything." She walks through the door and sets the bag down, turning to face him. Then, she cups his cheek with her hand gently.

"Does it hurt this badly?" He breaks down and grabs her tightly, weeping on her shoulder. He whispers into her hair.

"I made such a mess, Viv." She wraps him in her arms and squeezes him tightly.

"I know, honey. But it's gonna be okay." He backs off of her and wipes his nose with his sleeve like a child.

"What are you here for?" She smiles gently.

"Well, first I'm here to clean you up and help you feel like yourself. And then we're gonna drink. Because you need a little fun." He nods and takes the hand she offers him. She leads him up the stairs to the bathroom where she starts the shower. She turns and heads towards the door, but he grabs her elbow softly.

"Please stay."

"You want me to stay in here?"

"Please." She nods and sits on the lid of the toilet, turning away as he undresses and steps into the shower. He showers and then she hears the water turn off.

"Viv, honey, can you hand me a clean towel?"

"Of course!" She grabs a luxurious black towel and hands it to him. When he steps out of the shower, he has it wrapped around his waist, his hair fluffy and wet, water droplets glistening on his shoulders. Her mouth drops a little at how sexy he looks in this vulnerable state. It takes everything in her power not to rip the towel off and take him into the bedroom and...

******

"Viv?"

"Yes! What?"

"You're staring at me."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry." He smiles a little, enjoying the impact he's having on her. "You want me to blow dry your hair?"

"Yes." A relieved smile crosses his face and she seats him in the chair. As she dries it, he gives her instructions on how to do it, sounding more like himself. Next, she grabs the razor and shave soap.

"Whoa, hang on. Do you know what you're doing?" He asks, nervous.

"My stepdad broke his hand once when I was in high school. I can do this." He nods.

"Okay. I trust you." He leans his head back and she goes to work lathering up his face. She drags the razor gently over his skin, removing the hair. She's careful and meticulous and he revels in the feeling of being cared for so attentively.

Maybe she would be a good wife.

Once she finishes shaving him, he puts on a pair of fresh pajamas. Then, he tosses a pair at her.

"Get comfortable. Please."

"These are going to look ridiculous on me."

"Good." He smiles and she goes in the bathroom to change. He's thoroughly enjoying her company. He didn't realize how much he had missed her, but now she's here and his affection for her washes over him like a tidal wave. She comes out of the bathroom and sure enough, she looks silly in his giant pajamas. But something about seeing her in them makes him want to rip them off of her.

"Elvis."

"Yeah?"

"You're staring at me." He laughs for the first time in a week and gestures for her to follow him. On the way down to the tv room, he grabs the grocery bag from the foyer. It's true that he doesn't drink. But tonight? Tonight feels like a good night to break his rule.

Once they're settled on the couch in the tv room with a movie set up on the projector, he pulls the bottles out of the bag. She's got a bottle of vodka, a bottle of soda water, and a bottle of peach schnapps.

"Which one of these is for me?" He asks curiously. She laughs.

"I know you're a little bitch about alcohol, so I got you something that tastes good. The vodka is for me." He nods, smiling, and she goes to the bar, grabbing a couple of glasses. She makes them both drinks and they relax to watch the movie.

Two drinks later, Elvis is already pretty tipsy, laughing openly with his arm wrapped around her. Vivian does a couple of shots to try to catch up with him.

"Hey! I want one of those."

"No, Elvis, you really don't, baby." He snickers.

"You called me baby."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, I like it, honey. More pet names. Call me more pet names." She giggles, the shots finally starting to kick in.

"Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Lover boy." He laughs at the last one.

"You can't call me lover boy without being my lover, babydoll."

"Babydoll?!"

"You don't like it?" She makes another drink for each of them and Elvis throws his back quickly.

"Elvis! Slow down! I can't keep up."

"Come on, doll face, now who's being a little bitch?"

"Well, I definitely don't like little bitch." Elvis erupts in his big-joy laugh, leaning over to rest his head on her knee while he does. She finishes her drink and makes another for each of them.

"Which one do you like best, sweetheart?" He asks, swirling his drink in his glass.

"I'm not sure, babe. Which one do you like best?" She answers, taking a sip. He takes another long drink and then turns to look at her, his eyelids heavy.

"I like this, darlin'."

"The alcohol?"

"No- well, yes- but I like being here with you." All of a sudden he gets really serious. The memory of the conversation that didn't happen comes screaming back to him. He drains his glass and then sets it on the coffee table.

"What?" She looks at him inquisitively, her eyes glazed over with drunkenness.

"You 'member that conversation we were s'posed to have. 'Fore I left?" She finishes her drink and nods.

"Yeah?"

"I was just thinkin' 'bout it, that's all." His southern accent comes out so much stronger when he's been drinking and it makes Viv giggle.

"What?" He asks, a wide smile on his face.

"You just sound like a good ole country boy right now." She mimics his accent and he laughs loudly again.

"I am a good ole country boy." She's lying back against the corner of the couch, so he crawls up between her legs and she puts her hands on his cheeks.

"I know. I like it." She kisses the end of his nose. Her deep-ocean eyes look into his intensely. "I love it."

She leans in slowly, pressing her lips to his. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead into hers as he hovers above her.

"Viv." He whispers. Then he backs away, his eyes flicking between hers and then down to her pretty mouth. He leans in slowly, lips parted, capturing hers in a sensuous kiss. His tongue grazes hers so gently, as if asking for permission.

Then he dives in fully, never looking back.

******

When Elvis finally starts to wake up, he crinkles his nose and whimpers. The headache is already beginning behind his eyes and he's so thirsty he feels like he might die if he doesn't get some water soon. He feels movement on his chest and opens his eyes to a head full of dark hair. That's when he remembers: Vivian. His mind races as he tries to think through what might've happened last night. He kissed her, but that's the only thing his foggy brain can grab onto. His heart skips a beat as a thought crosses his mind and he lifts the covers a little to try to assess the situation.

They're both naked. He swallows deeply and looks up at the ceiling. Oh shit...

He feels her shift a little on his chest, her breasts pressing up against the side of his body. She groans and stretches and he knows he has to say something.

"Umm... Viv?"

"Yeah?" She groans again, obviously feeling the effects of her drinks last night.

"Are you wearing... anything?" Her eyes pop open and she sits up suddenly. When she realizes that this means he can see her chest, she lays back down quickly and starts to slink away from him under the covers.

"Oh, God. Oh no." She whines. He grabs her and pulls her back onto his chest.

"No. Don't leave."

"Elvis, I... we-"

"I know. But I don't want you to leave. Not yet." She relaxes a little against him.

"Do you remember anything?" He tries to force his mind to focus on last night. All he sees are flashes, him running his hand up her leg, the sounds she made when she climaxed, one moment of looking into her eyes while she was on top of him, his hand on her cheek.

"Just flashes. You?"

"No, just flashes for me too."

"I remember it being really good, though." She whispers her response.

"Me too..."

They lay together in silence for a while, Elvis's mind going crazy wondering what she's thinking. He goes back to the conversation that never happened. Does she love him? Could this actually work?

"Vivian, you know, we could finish our conversation now." She sits up and looks into his face, hers painted with a look of anguish.

"No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because the same reason you can't be with Ann Margaret is the same reason you can't be with me."

"Priscilla."

"Yes." He puts his hand on his forehead.

"Goddamnit. Man, I really screwed myself, didn't I?" She sighs deeply.

"Elvis, you told me once that she makes sense to you. Is that still true?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then there's your answer. I don't make sense to anyone. You should marry her." His heart breaks for Viv. He wants to tell her that it doesn't matter, that she does make sense to him, that even if she didn't he would love her. But he doesn't. He knows what the right thing to do is.

So he loosens his grip on her and she gets out of the bed. She finds her clothes from where she left them to change into his pajamas last night. He lays in the bed as she dresses, trying to keep himself from crying. Losing Ann Margaret was bad, but this is pure torture.

When she's fully put back together, she stands in the doorway just looking at him and he notices that she's crying and has been the whole time.

"Vivian..." He says it softly. Then, he gets out of bed and grabs a robe from a chair, wrapping it around himself. He walks to where she's standing and she collapses into his chest, sobbing. He holds her in his arms and kisses the top of her head. "I'm sorry."

She nods into him and then pulls back, wiping her face. He tries to catch her eyes but she won't look up at him. Without another word, she turns and walks out of the room, down the stairs, and through the front door, leaving him standing in the doorway. When he hears the front door latch, he falls to his knees and sobs.

Vivian is gone. He proposes to Priscilla in December of 1966.

******

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #Elvis x Vivian #Elvis Presley x Vivian choquette #your loves been a long time coming #ylbaltc

[dynamightmite]

you seem optimistic so you think we’re still getting shigaraki back? :( i’m really sad the way hori has handled the izuku tenko plotline as of right now like i just can’t wrap my head around this

I mean, I definitely think it's a possibility. We still don't know exactly what happened to overhaul/decay, and how it may be used in the future. We saw Tenko and Deku touch fists; theoretically there could have been some kind of exchange there, or he could be existing as a vestige in some way.

Then again, (and this is going to piss a lot of people off :')) I kind of... get where Horikoshi is going with it?

BEFORE YOU START BOOING!

I think a lot of the discomfort and hurt from fans comes from the perception that Izuku failed to save Tenko. That, by allowing him to die, the narrative is in fact saying he didn't deserve to be save--that Horikoshi himself doesn't believe Tenko truly deserved it. I have also seen a lot of talk about how it doesn't fit in with the ongoing, overarching themes of the narrative, and (while I'm not saying these people are wrong) I would like to push back on that a little, because I think there is precedence in the story as to why Tenko's death holds up, despite it being terrible.

The culmination of Tenko's arc broaches a crossroad of two major concepts in the story: heroes, and saving, and what both of those ideas mean. And, I think, in Tenko's death, we get and answer to both, and more importantly, an answer to his overall purpose.

What does it mean to save? In BNHA, the concept is a little vague. I've often people ascribe the "total victory" mindset as one of protection, as preventing any tragedy or harm. Through that lens, Tenko's death therefore is an automatic failure--a nonstarter. HE's dead, so he wasn't saved. The end. However, while "saving" might seem like a simple, straight forward concept, I would like to dig a little deeper, because I think what Horikoshi's doing is much more interesting.

Saving (Deku's definition of it, anyway) is a lot closer to freeing than it is to protecting. Which sounds weird, but I'll do my best to explain. I think the two best examples of this particular nuance to his definition are actually in two characters people tend to forget he saved: Shoto and Gentle Criminal.

Because he did save both of them. Not in the really obvious, black-and-white way he saved Eri, no, but he did save them. And both times were... painful, to say the least.

When Deku went after Shoto during the sport's festival, it wasn't, like, nice. He dug his little nerd fingers in where it hurt the worst and dragged out Shoto's biggest fears and insecurities, and then he said GET OVER THEM. Stop letting them control you. Stop letting your father control you. You're your own person, and you get to make your own choices.

He didn't punch Endeavor. He didn't even take pity on Shoto, or say he was sorry. But you know what he did do? Deku cut the leash. AND he damn near killed Shoto (and himself) making sure that Shoto understood that he was free. He gave Shoto back something that he'd been missing, something he was afraid to look in the face; something that Deku picked up, brushed off, and said, "please stop throwing this away, it's important. You're important".

And it works, goddamit.

Gentle is both different and similar. In a similar vein, the way Deku saves Gentle is sort of... not obvious. But I think if you look here:

Gentle isn't a bad person. He's ambitious and a little lax about the law, but he never set out to hurt anybody. But we see over the course of his arc how he gets so tangled up in his own pain and his desperation to be seen that he forgets his own ideals, his own morals. In the face of becoming someone, he loses sight of what matters most to him: just like Deku, Gentle wants to be a hero.

Which, in the end, he is. And Deku's the one who pushes him there.

But what about Tenko? What about the crying child inside him? Why wasn't he saved?

When people talk about child Tenko, they often seem to see him as a symbol of the person that Deku's trying to save. But I think that, just maybe, that's wrong. I think maybe, actually, Deku is trying to save Tenko from that child.

Child Tenko is, in many ways, a symbol of nothing but AFO's power. That is a child stripped of his name, of his original quirk, of his family, of his sense of self. That is a puppet controlled by AFO, without any autonomy of its own. That child is a wound that Tenko cannot escape for as long as AFO still holds any power over him.

That's why this chapter All Might said that maybe Deku did save Tenko, if he no longer saw the child version of him in the vestige realm. Deku did save him. Because Tenko isn't a child anymore, and he isn't AFO's puppet; he's a free man, for the first time in his life.

A free man who chooses to be a hero.

Heroes get talked about a lot in BNHA (duh), but what is the defining quality of a true hero? Someone who wins? Sure. Someone who saves? Yeah, of course. But the actual test of what differentiates a hero from everybody else is their willingness to sacrifice. To give up everything for the greater good. Even if it hurts. Sometimes especially if it hurts. I mean, this has come up a lot through the manga. Deku running in to attack the sludge villain, Mirio giving up his quirk, Eraserhead throwing himself in front of his students, Edgeshot shortening his lifespan to save Bakugo, All Might standing quirkless in front of the greatest evil of his time-- literally the constant refrain from the narrative has been that being willing to sacrifice it all is what makes a hero a hero.

Tenko's final wish from last chapter is gut wrenching, but: he wanted to be a hero for the Villains. The rest of the world can rot for all he cares, but his friends, those disenfranchised, hurt people that everyone else gave up on? Those people who have never been saved, those people who have never been protected... he wants to be their hero. In the face of danger, of certain doom, he is a free man, and he has a choice.

So he makes a sacrifice. His final act is to become a hero. For them.

Cue the sobbing tears.

Additionally, I think it's relevant to point out here how strongly the narrative has advocated for victimhood to be divorced from being a perpetual self-identity. It really emphasizes the power of choosing to rise above your situation and pain to help other people, while also suggesting that your pain does not excuse you from hurting people. You can be a victim and you can be a perpetrator; they are not mutually exclusive. And because of this, after Deku saves Tenko, he does not owe him. He saved Tenko, but he could not keep him alive, and... I don't think that it's about Tenko deserving or not deserving to die. It's just that Tenko had reached a point of no return where his only choices were to die a slave or die free and he broke his shackles. But he was always going to die. Doomed by the narrative, both literally and figuratively. We can argue all day as to what degree of responsibility he holds for his actions as a highly abused, traumatized, often shell of a person. But the point is that at every junction of the story, Tenko (and the story around him) escalated until he was trapped. There wasn't a way out, and it's heartbreaking, and maybe that's the point.

I'm not saying it's fair. I'm certainly not saying you have to like it. But... I don't know. I don't feel like this is some completely out of pocket, off-the-rails end that destroyed all its characters. And who knows! Maybe Tenko will be brought back later. Maybe the epilogue will get progressively worse and I'll hate it. Maybe I'll finally get some sleep and regret writing this at all. I have no idea. Really. But we're all in this together, so these are my thoughts right now :)

#bnha spoilers #bnha 424 #shigaraki #like I said I know this will piss a lot of people off who really really don't like tenko dying which is #like if you think I'm being dumb and wrong that's fine you can tell me but at least be nice T-T #I'm sad about tenko too okay

[walrus150915]

cw: discussions of nonsexual grooming

There is one thing that has been spinning on my mind ever since I watched the movie. This conversation isn't that popular in the fandom, probably due to its uncomfortable subject matter, but it needs to be discussed. I'll be the one to start

The Director has groomed Ambrosius and it affected him far into adulthood

(A really long analysis post)

Warning: I'm not a psychologist neither am I really educated in this sphere, and I never was a victim of grooming, so don't take my words as 100% truth. However, I'm a literature student, so I can analyse a few scenes and make a conclusion lol

So, to start off, let's share the definition of grooming, shall we?

"Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust and emotional connection with a child or young person so they can manipulate, exploit and abuse them."

Now, of course Ambrosius is an adult in the movie, and we can't exactly know his entire history with the Director. So this analysis will take a few things as truth despite them not being confirmed

- the Director has been by Ambrosius's side throughout most of his life. Considering the fact that she's been around even when Ballister was a child, the same can be assumed about Ambrosius

- we as viewers do not see Ambrosius's parents (because this is quite unnecessary to the narrative, maybe we'll see them in a sequel Quane and Bruno were teasing buttt¯\_(ツ)_/¯), and he's been in the Institute since childhood, so it seems like the Director was the most reliable adult in Ambrosius's life

Despite Ambrosius being a grown man, the effect the Director has on him cannot be denied. His relationship to the Director is like half his character arc, the man being torn between his loyalty to the kingdom and his lover

I will take a few scenes from the movie where Ambrosius and the Director interact and try to analyse them

Starting off strong, we've got the "acting like common children" scene. I could point out the obvious bias the Director puts in her words (villainizing an oppressed group of people as a rich white woman in power how nice of her) but we ain't coming to her throat for classism today. Pay attention to her praising Ambrosius and singling him out. "Thankfully, we have a descendant of Gloreth to lead us"

Are other knights happy to be around Ambrosius tho? The answer is no

(Text below is taken from the screenplay. The scene is after Nimona's and Bal's escape)

***

Knights: I knew we never should have trusted Ballister./If Goldenloin hadn't trusted him.../Well, if Goldenloin hadn't helped him...

***

Todd: This is his fault!

Knights: Yeah!/Tell him, Todd!

Goldenloin realizes all eyes are on him

***

I think it wouldn't be wrong to assume Ambrosius's colleagues dislike him at best and outcast him at worst. Compared to Todd, who seems to be the more liked one amongst their peers (bro really is a jock bully high school stereotype in his 20s isn't that embarrassing), Ambrosius is isolated. He doesn't have anybody except Ballister and the Director. And as you all know Ballister and Ambrosius are separated for the most of the movie. So it leaves him with the Director as the closest person to interact with. Yeah...

Also in this scene she displays TWO tactics groomers use to manipulate their victims: isolation and favouritism

Another scene I'd like to pay attention to is Ambrosius's ✨iconic✨ freak out

"What's on your mind, Ambrosius? You can talk to me"

"...I'm fine, Director"

This scene actually left me confused on the first watch because it looks like a perfect moment for the Director to seem at least somewhat sympathetic. It truly seems like she cares about him

Honestly it's pretty hard for me to surely say whether or not she's being sincere or not but her goal is definitely to win over Ambrosius's trust, to make him believe she's a safe person (now that his real safe person is away ajdjdjj). That is also another tactic for groomers to manipulate their victims

And I think it would be fair to mention Director's attitude towards Ballister's and Ambrosius's relationship. It's obvious she knows about them (...not like it's rocket science have you seen these lovebirds) and disapproves. She doesn't outright state it but it's really clear

"Sir Goldenloin, is your loyalty to this Kingdom or to the knight who consorts with a monster?"

Again, amazing case of manipulation. She doesn't say Institute, nor "me" or whatever. She says kingdom. And she clearly knows that it works on Ambrosius, because he is, after all, Gloreth's descendant. Gloreth was the original protector, and Ambrosius is supposed to be the protector now. By choosing Ballister he betrays the kingdom, his bloodline and Gloreth

Now, I know this scene is not Ambrosius & the Director because it's Nimona in disguise but considering how good Nimona was in playing her part we might as well assume real Ambrosius would act the same.

Look at these eyes. He's afraid of her. She has the complete power over him. And Ballister is aware of this (if that's how he told Nimona to act)

Off-topic but I watched Nimona with two of my buddies yesterday and during this scene they both went like "Wait, who is she to Ambrosius again? Is she his mother? Because she acts like she one" and they are so damn right???

Now remember the fact that during one of the interviews Eugene Lee Yang said that the Director is Ambrosius's parental figure. Do with this information whatever you wanna do

I'm still not over her audacity in this scene. Her lip didn't even twitch and she's killing a person whom she praised for his bloodline. Saying "May Gloreth forgive you" while DRIVING A SWORD THROUGH HIM is beyond evil like??? Chill out Nancy Reagan???

I could say that this is the scene that debacles the American model minority myth (with East Asians being put on a pedestal and used to further reinforce white supremacy). A white woman killing an East Asian man while using a Christ-like figure to justify her actions (Gloreth is literally mentioned to be a Christ figure in the art book), and, if we take into account the theory that she wanted to set Ballister up so that it looks like he killed Ambrosius, BLAMING IT ON A BROWN ASIAN MAN was really a choice huh

The Director killed Ambrosius the second he questioned her, the second he wasn't useful to her

And how was he being useful to her? Allow me to introduce you to the scene which made me SUPER uncomfortable once I realized what was going on

During most of the movie Ambrosius acts rather impulsively, reflexes play a big part in his body language. And what does he do? He protects her with his body

"We need to get you to safety!"

Ambrosius was trained in a way that he needed to protect the Director with his body and his life.

Even in scenes where Ambrosius and the Director don't interact you can see how much Ambrosius is brainwashed.

"She manipulated you. She manipulated both of us. But together we'll take her down, you'll be a knight again"

"Thank you. The Director can't-"

"The Director? Oh, no, Bal. I'm talking about your sidekick"

Ambrosius refuses to even think about the effect the Director has on him. He's insisting on Nimona being the manipulator despite him being manipulated

Finally, when Ambrosius realizes something is CLEARLY wrong, he still tries to talk some sense into her

"But what if we're wrong? What if we've always been wrong?"

Despite him being a constant witness to Director's misdeeds he tries to do everything peacefully. Look at his face. This is a face of a man who doesn't want to harm. He gives the Director a chance to improve herself. I think he would forgive her after everything she's done

...but being a conservative she'd rather explode than admit she's wrong. So she attempts to kill Ambrosius again

This, again, says that no matter how much mercy you show to hateful people, they'll continue to be horrible to you. Just because they think they have a right to

Analysing Ambrosius's and the Director's relationship I think it'd be more than valid to state that she has, indeed, groomed Ambrosius to exploit and use him for her own (political and other) benefits. Other knights were brainwashed and groomed too, but something about her attitude towards Ambrosius really bugged me the wrong way

She is an excellent manipulator and Ambrosius fell victim to that, which is no surprise

Thank you for reading this! It took so long to make😭 If you want to add on anything in the reblogs please do, because the discussion HAS to happen at some point

#nimona #ambrosius goldenloin #the director nimona #ballister boldheart #nimona analysis #really on brand for a evangelical christian-coded white person in power to groom and brainwash people #but what do i know #also tumblr is meannnnn i needed more screenshots to prove my point #i hope you understood what i mean tho lol

[loustat-0]

Your answer about why Louis and Armand stay together brought something that always made me wonder about the show. Louis is jealous in the show so how come he would not be of Armand and Daniel in the 70s? Is it a way to show that Armand is not the love of his life (unlike Lestat)? Did he have his memories changed too? Has the writing just changed from season 1 to 2? What do you think?

This one will be a long one too . So please bear with me 🙏🏻

1. I hope no one attacks me for this but I didn't buy the " love of my life " of Louis at all . And as we can see even after Lestat is supposedly dead Louis can't get over him no matter how much he tries . On the show in Paris it seems like Armand is Louis's way of distraction from Lestat even though it doesn't work all the time . Not that Louis isn't attracted to Armand no , he's gay on the show and he has quite specific taste in men but Armand is also different feeling from Lestat so he's actually looking to any vampires who aren't like Lestat at all because he's trying so hard to forget him so Armand is that person at least that's what Louis thinks . And he thinks he has a common feeling with Armand about getting hurt by Lestat .

2. And in my opinion Louis isn't the love Armand's either he's his way of having new feelings and trying a new kind of love after a century but a century after Lestat . So Armand also want to forget Lestat and he also resents him and he could be after Louis to get revenge from Lestat . For all we know Lestat could have possibly arrived in Paris even before Louis and Claudia . So Armand knows about them . Even if they arrived in Paris earlier than Lestat did Armand still knew about them and I'm sure he suspected them being Lestat's fledglings . It's still love for Louis and Armand they were together a long time but what if they BOTH tried so hard to forget their relationship with Lestat that they quite became performative love to each other ? Both of them showing a part of themselves that they hated in Lestat?

3. I don't know much about Armand and Daniel possible history on the show yet But according to the the devil's minion chapter in the 3rd book Daniel is the love of Armand's life , someone who accepted his as he was adored him for his beauty and evil , although they had a rough start but they remained a couple for years . A relationship Armand cherished more than anyone else and possibly more than even Lestat because at the point of the book Lestat was in danger in the concert but Armand found Daniel and stayed with him and protected him and then turned him . Unfortunately in the books it doesn't last too long though they separated until the prince Lestat book where they became a couple again but Marius was there too .

4. I don't think Louie would be jealous over Armand's relationships because it seems like in the 70s they're in an open relationship even before that Armand and Louis brought out other men to their relationship and Louis had possibly sex with those men and Armand probably did too and then Armand killed them or probably erased their memories of being with them and left them on their own . EXCEPT FOR YOUNG DANIEL . He probably did something to his memories but it seems like both Armand and Louis kept a close watch on Daniel too . But I think Armand is mostly pretending that Daniel was like another men they had fun with and played with him like a pet and left him to be with Louie . Armand might be jealous and possessive of Daniel though , remember when Louis offered to turn Daniel in Ep 4 in season 1 ?

5 . So I don't think Louis cares about monogamous relationships anymore maybe because the show is going to go into poly direction . OR maybe Louis only have that feeling for Lestat . That fire , that burn , that jealousy . Maybe he's not jealous over Armand's and Lestat and Nickolas relationship because he doesn't know how deep they actually were . He thinks they were both a passing thing for Lestat and maybe he's deeply hurt by that what if he was that too ? 😢

6. I'm not sure who do you mean by having his memories changed too . But if you're talking about Louis and Daniel yes their memories are probably changed or I better say tampered with .

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #amc iwtv #loustat #amc interview with the vampire #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #iwtv spoilers #lestat x louis #louis x armand #loumand #armand x daniel #armandaniel #lestat x armand #lesmand #armandstat #iwtv theories #iwtv theory #iwtv speculation

[bteezxyewriter12]

Here Without You

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 4k

Includes- Based on song Here without you by three doors down, angst, fluff, sex, missionary, oral, pussy eating, cum eating, cock riding, multiple orgasms

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000

Gif Credit- Yooboobies

Masterlists- check out for more fics

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J POV

Opening the door to my apartment, silence greets me, my eyes tearing up

"Stop it", I whisper to myself, wiping my eyes

I need to stop crying all the time

It doesn't help

It doesn't bring him back

I just have to wait for him to come back

He will

When the tour's done, he'll be home again

Closing and locking the door, I go to our room to undress

I try to think of what I have to do before I can video call him

Undress

Shower

Cook something

Eat

Maybe watch a TV show or YouTube

Some thing to pass the time until he wakes up and can call me

He's in Texas now, so when he wakes up at 10 am, it's 1 am here

Luckily I don't have work tomorrow so I can sleep in

I've stayed up late every night since he went on tour three weeks ago so I can talk to him and I've gone to work exhausted

It doesn't matter though, he's worth it

Sighing, I throw my clothes in the hamper, then go to the bathroom to shower

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

I'm laying on the couch with the TV on for noise when my phone rings

Seeing the caller as "naekkeo", I immediately pick it up, his beautiful face filling my screen

"Hi jagi", he says softly, his sad brown eyes gazing at me

"Hi naekkeo", I answer, tears flooding my eyes

This tour has been particularly hard for us

It's the first one after our wedding

And the first one where I can't come to any of the overseas concerts

Not with this video game designer job I have now

I started it last year and the boss is an asshole

He gave me such a hard time to take off for my wedding and honeymoon even though I told the interviewer that I needed certain days off and was guaranteed them at hiring

I'm working on a major game now and I have endless meetings

The thing is I can do everything remotely but my boss is being such an ass, demanding that I come in for meetings

I'm one of three people that come in physically for meetings

The people from other departments come in virtually

Because they have other bosses who aren't pricks

This is the first time I haven't been with him at all on the tour and it's affecting both of us

He's already been gone for three torturous weeks

"How was the concert last night?", I ask, forcing the tears back

"It was good", he answers, his eyes wet, "ARMYS had fun"

"Did you have fun?", I ask

He nods, biting his lip as the tears spill over his eyes

"Naekkeo", I say softly

"I'm sorry", he says as he cries, "I just miss you"

I shake my head, my own tears falling, "I miss you too baby. Don't be sorry"

"I can't....I can't do this jagi. I need you"

I nod, wiping my eyes, trying to calm him down, "I need you too baby. It's just for a little bit"

"It's another six weeks jagi. I can't spend that long without you", he sobs, "We've never been apart this long. It's killing me"

I know exactly how he feels

"Me too naekkeo but there's nothing we can do. You have to be on the tour. I have to work. I wish I could be there, I want to be there with you", I say, more tears falling, making his image blurry, "I don't know how it can happen baby. It's torture for me too naekkeo"

He shakes his head, "I don't want to be here without you. I dream about you every night and when I wake up and you're not there it's devastating"

"I want to be with you naekkeo", I whisper, "So much. I dream about you too Yoongi and I miss you more than anything"

"I can't handle it", he sobs, "I can't sleep without you. I hate knowing you're not backstage waiting for me. I hate not seeing your smile. Hearing your voice. Holding you. I don't know how I'm supposed to keep doing this tour"

I really have no idea how he's supposed to do it either

I don't know how I'm supposed to keep going without him

Video calls, it's not enough

Like he said, I need to be in his arms, I need to feel him, hug him, kiss him

I can't do that through a screen

"We just have to keep counting down the days baby", I tell him, "Just get through each day at a time"

It sounds lame but there's nothing else I can think of to make this better

It's hard for both of us

He just shakes his head, wiping his eyes

"Tell me about the concert naekkeo", I ask him in a effort to distract us both, "What's the set list? What was your favorite part about this concert?"

He smiles sadly, knowing exactly what I'm doing

But he nods and begins talking

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

Three days later

I toss and turn in bed, trying it get comfortable

I can't sleep

I've been laying in bed for hours

I know it's because I wasn't able to talk to Yoongi tonight

BTS had a concert last night and when they have concerts he can't call me

I know they did a vlive too and he went to bed really late

He's probably exhausted and slept all day

I understand

I'm not mad, I know how he operates on concert days

On little to no sleep and he crashes all day the next day

I just miss him

As I'm turning again, I hear a noise

It sounds like it's coming from the front door

Like jiggling

I quiet down and listen hard

I hear the front door open and I'm immediately alert

The door shouldn't be opening

The only ones who have keys are me and Yoongi

And Yoongi is thousands of miles away

Carefully, I get up from the bed, tip toeing to the open door

Quietly, I leave the room, going out into the hallway, ready to run or fight if I need to

A figure steps into the long hallway from the living room and I gape, not sure I'm seeing who I'm seeing

"Yoongi?", I gasp

"Jagi", he whispers, starting to come to me

I don't think, my body immediately goes into a run towards him

I get to him in seconds, crashing into him as he picks me up, his lips immediately against mine

I kiss him desperately, so shocked he's here but so fucking happy and relieved

His arms hold me tightly, keeping me against him, my legs and arms locked around his waist and neck

I don't know how long we kissed for but for me it's never enough

When the kiss does end, I lean my forehead against his, just basking in him being home

"I missed you so much", I whisper

"I missed you jagi"

"How...how are you here naekkeo? Shouldn't you be in the U.S.?"

As much as I want him here, I don't want him to get into trouble

"I couldn't stay away from you a minute longer jagi", he tells me softly, "I just can't. I can't spend another six weeks away from you, Jo. I can't do it baby"

"I can't either naekkeo", I say, knowing exactly how he feels

Like everything is colorless, lifeless without him

"I think about you all day jagi. I miss you so fucking much it hurts. I hate that you're so far from me. I don't think I ever cried so much from being away from you"

I know

This whole time has been so fucking hard, so heartbreaking

I want him to be on tour, I know how much he loves performing, I just hate that he has to be away from me to do it

"It's the same for me baby", I tell him, "I just want you so much it hurts. I want you to be able to perform naekkeo but I don't want you to be away"

"I don't want to be away either jagi"

"What are we going to do baby?", I ask, worried

He's here now but he can't stay

He has the rest of the tour to do, his ARMYS are counting on him

"You're coming back with me", he says

"Yoongi", I start, "My job naekkeo"

The stupid reason I had to stay behind

There was no way my boss would let me take two months off to go with him

"I called him jagi", he tells me, "I spoke to your boss and after a lot of convincing and proving who I was, he agreed to let you have the time off for the rest of the tour"

I gape at him, in shock

My asshole boss caved to Yoongi?

What did Yoongi say to him?

"You won't be paid for the time jagi but it doesn't matter. We have enough money"

"That's your money Yoongi"

He shakes his head, "You keep saying that jagi but it's not. It's ours. You're my wife, the love of my life, everything that's mine is yours from even before we were married baby. You know you don't even have to work jagi but you insist on it"

Of course I do

I'm not a mooch

Just because he's rich doesn't mean I can spend his money

I was never with him for the money or the potential money as we met in high school and have been together since then, when we were both broke

He works hard, he sacrificed in the beginning of BTS, the money and success he has is because of him

I even offered to sign a pre-nup before we got married and he was actually offended I even suggested it

He declined it, shocking me and he always maintains that the money and everything that comes from it is ours

"Yoongi-"

"You know you don't jagi. You know I would give you anything you ask for, do anything for you", he says softly, "And I'm good with you wanting to work baby but I need you with me. I can't go back without you. Please jagi, say you'll come with me. Please"

"Of course I'm going to come with you", I whisper, running my fingers in his black hair, "Even if I had to quit, find another job after the tour, I would come naekkeo. I can't be apart from you any more baby. I need you"

His entire body relaxes as he breathes in relief

"Ok jagi. Thank you"

"Shh baby, don't thank me. Just like you, I'll do anything for you naekkeo, give you anything you want", I assure him, "I want to be wherever you are. And if you have to be in the U.S. I'm going with you"

He nods, "Ok jagi. I love you"

"I love you Yoongi"

His lips press against mine, my heart filling with utter joy that he's here

He carries me to our room, laying me on the bed, his lips never leaving mine

He moves next to me, my body turning to his, our arms around each other

I kiss him passionately, falling into him after weeks of missing him

His kiss is everything, his arms around me is heaven

He's my everything, my world

The kiss becomes heated, his tongue against mine, our hands desperately touching each other

"I missed you", I murmur between kisses while pulling his shirt up

Her separates from me long enough to get his shirt off mine following

"I missed you too, you have no idea"

"I do naekkeo, I missed you just as much"

He smiles his gorgeous smile right before kissing me, his hand slowly pulling down my pj pants and panties

Once they're off, I slide my hands down his sweatpants, getting them and his boxers off

I want him so badly

Three weeks of no physical contact is catching up to us

He moves on top of me, laying between my open legs, his warm smooth skin right against mine

His forehead leans against mine as I move my arms around him, my hand on his back, slowly running my palms up and down, feeling him

He moans softly, his skin trembling under my hands

I slide my hands up, moving over and along his strong shoulders, up his neck, sinking my fingers in his soft hair

We shift slightly, our lips against each other's, kissing desperately

I feel his length at my entrance and I drop my hands to his hips, pulling him closer to me

He takes the hint, his cock sliding inside, my pussy stretching around his thick shaft, pleasure tingling throughout every cell of my body

He whimpers into the kiss as he pushes in inch by inch, my pussy getting wetter and wetter, impaling me on his huge thick dick

My body arches from the pleasure, letting him slide in faster, bottoming out quicker, his head nestled against my spot

I shiver under him, squeezing his cock involuntarily hard

"Fuck", he groans, moving his arm around my waist and holding me against him, "You feel so good jagi. Always so tight for me. So wet"

"Mmm", I murmur, shivering against his lips that found their way to my neck, "And you feel good naekkeo. So hard, all the fucking time"

I purposely clench around his cock, his moan so hot as I enjoy the hard feeling of him buried inside me

"You make me this way jagi", he whimpers, "Fuck, anything you do turns me on. If I could stay inside you all fucking day, I would"

I giggle, kissing the top of his head, "I'd definitely let you baby"

I happen to really enjoy having him inside my pussy

Even if we're just laying here

We don't have to have sex

Cock warming is a huge thing with us, it's something we both love

He lifts his head from my neck, smiling, then kissing me softly

I fall into his kiss as he begins to move, slowly pulling out a little bit then slamming back inside

His head hits my spot, stars blasting in my vision, every nerve on my body alive and electrified

With every stroke he pulls out more and more, until he pulls out to his head, then buries back inside me

He moves at a good pace, fucking me into the bed and my head is in the clouds from the sheer pleasure

He press kisses against every inch of skin he can, my body trembling under his lips

His hand slides slowly up my body from my waist, up my arm, his hand taking mine, intertwining our fingers

I close my hand around his, holding on tightly

His other arm is next to my head, leaning on it as he moves, thrusting into my pussy again and again

"Yoongi", I moan in bliss, closing my eyes as I just feel him

Feel his body against mine, his skin against mine, his cock moving inside me

I'm loving every single second of it

Each smack against my spot brings me closer, my legs tighting around his waist, my pussy throbbing around his cock hard

I'm so hot and sweaty, panting for breath, my fingers digging into his back, my other hand clenching his

"You're so fucking beautiful", he whispers

I open my eyes to find him looking down at me, watching, love pouring from his eyes, "My God, I'm so fucking lucky you're mine"

I smile shyly, "No naekkeo, I'm so lucky you're mine. I love you"

"I love you Jo", he murmurs, his lips finding mine

His kiss combined with him sliding back into me, right into my spot, have me shaking and coming on his thick cock

"Yoongi", I moan between kisses, the intense pleasure washing over me, my pussy clenching around him hard

He moans, his hips not stopping, rolling into me, fucking me through my orgasm

As the pleasure fades, I relax into the bed, Yoongi kissing all over my body as he pulls out

My skin jumps with every press of his lips, his hot kisses feeling so fucking good

He kisses my lower stomach, my hand finding its way into his damp hair, tangling in the strands

He moves down slowly, now pressing kisses against my pussy, pushing my legs wide open

I feel his tongue on me, licking up slowly, my body shivering in bliss

He groans loudly, his tongue moving a bit faster, "So fucking good"

"Yoongi", I whine, feeling so fucking good

My god, I missed this, missed him

His hands grip my legs tightly, his tongue dipping into my hole, my pussy clenching down on it immediately

He licks out and up, his tongue rolling over my clit, my body arching from the increased pleasure swarming over me

His tongue slides back down, circling my hole before dipping in, shoving as much in as he can, then pulling out, sliding up and flicking my clit

He repeats the motions over and over, my cunt getting wetter with every move of his talented tongue

I know I'm completely soaking his face and I know he loves it

"My baby tastes so good", he groans, tongue swirling around my clit, driving me fucking insane, "My baby's pussy is so fucking good. So fucking sweet"

God, he's so hot

The way he's so into eating me out makes everything feel ten times better

I like knowing that he really enjoys doing it instead of feeling like he has to

His tongue move faster, all over my clit, my hips moving on their own, fucking his face, knowing that this is another thing he loves

"Yes baby, fuck yes", he urges, "Don't stop jagi"

His mouth wraps around my clit, sucking hard and I scream his name, squirting a little on his face

"Mmm", he moans, his mouth moving faster, slurping around my clit, the pleasure so fucking intense, my entire body is shaking and my head is empty

I tug his hair tightly, his next suck sending me straight into a mind shattering orgasm

"Yoongi!", I scream, coming on his face, his tongue driving right into my hole, his mouth sucking and swallowing my cum

I can't think, don't know which way is up, all I can do is ride the waves of bliss

It's so intense, so mind numbingly pleasurable

God, Yoongi is the king of oral

His licking slows down as I finish, his eyes already on me when I look down at him

He smirks, kissing my inner thigh, his tongue licking up my cunt one more time

"So good jagi"

I sit up just as he does and I move closer to him, kissing him hard

His tongue moves in my mouth as I climb in his lap, pushing him down on the bed

I follow, kissing him silly, running my fingers in his sweaty hair

He moves me over his length and I sit, taking him in immediately

I'm so wet, I slide all the way down his cock so easily, moving my hips to rock on him

His hands grab my ass, holding on as his hips lift, keeping his cock as deep as he can inside me while I grind on him

Breaking the kiss, I lean on his shoulders, starting to bounce softly on his cock

"Fuck jagi", he groans, his fingers digging into my skin, "Fuck"

"God Yoongi", I cry, his cock spreading my pussy so deliciously, tingles are running up my spine, "So good baby, so fucking good"

He nods, his eyes glued on me as I ride him faster, harder, "Fuck baby, that pussy looks so good on my dick. Creaming my cock so much, it's pouring out of you"

It is, I can feel it, all over this cock, all over his lap, the sticky feeling making me so horny

"Mmm do you hear how loud your pussy is?", he asks as I indeed hear how loud the squelching is, "Fuck, missed me this much?"

"Yes naekkeo", I moan, grinding down on his cock when I take him all in, his head rubbing my spot, making my body shiver, "Missed you so fucking much"

"Missed you too jagi", he groans

"I know", I smirk, his throbbing cock so stiff inside my cunt, "I feel how much you missed me"

He smiles his gorgeous smile, his eyes travelling from my pussy up my body to my face

"So pretty baby", he says softly, "So good at riding my cock"

I smirk, nodding, our skin slamming together loudly with every move, "You know how much I love riding you"

He nods

It's our favorite position, the one we fuck in the most

I don't know, my legs do get tired sometimes but it takes awhile for that to happen and when it does, I still don't stop

I can get him in so much deeper, bounce on him, rock or grind on his dick

And he can fuck me too so it's not just me always fucking him

The best part, for me, is that I get to watch him

Watch him in pleasure, watch him cum

He's so fucking beautiful it's insane

And that's what I do now

Looking down at him, watching him in pleasure, the sight such a fucking turn on

His eyes closed, his head pushed back into the pillow, his mouth slightly open, breathing hard, his hair wet with sweat, his fingers digging into my hips, sweat shortening on his skin as he whimpers my name, begging me to not stop in his sexy voice

He's so fucking stunning without even trying

And he's all mine

Leaning down, I whisper in his ear, "Cum for me naekkeo"

"Oh god, fuck", he groans, holding my hips hard and thrusting up, meeting my bounces, sliding deep inside

We move together, fucking each other, both of us getting fucked out and desperate to cum, moaning loudly

"Yoongi! Yoongi!", I cry, unbelievable ecstacy slamming into every crevice of my body as he fucks me into an earth shattering orgasm

"Fuck Joanne! Jagi!", he cries, his cock pulsing, his warm cum filling me, his body shaking under me

I force my eyes open and watch the complete ethereal sight of him orgasming

I never want to miss seeing this

I rock on his cock, making the pleasure last a little longer for both of us, our bodies relaxing as the bliss so slowly leaves

I move off him but don't go far, snuggling in his arm, my head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat

His fingers run slowly up and down my back, giving me shivers

"When do we have to leave tomorrow?", I ask

He looks down at me, smiling, "Don't worry jagi, I got a later flight. 5 pm"

"Oh thank God", I giggle

He laughs, "I knew you'd want to spend as much time in bed together as you can"

I raise my eyebrow, "As if you don't want that either"

"Of course I want that baby", he agrees, "We can slack off for awhile, then I'll help you pack and we can go"

"Back to Texas?"

"California", he answers

I nod, "Ok"

"Ok", he nods

I gaze in his beautiful dark brown eyes, reaching up and running my fingers in his hair, "I love you so much Yoongi"

"I love you so much Jo. So fucking much"

I know he does

I'm so lucky to have found someone who loves me as much as I love them

Yoongi is the best thing that has ever happened to me

He's my everything

I lean closer, my lips against his in a soft loving kiss

His arms hold me tightly as he kisses me back and I'm so glad he came back for me

#bts yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #bts suga fanfic #bts yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #bts suga smut #suga smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #Youtube

[marshmallowprotection]

What do you think would be each character’s favorite flavor of cake?

You know what, this is a brilliant question, but I think I'm going to answer it based on vibes rather than trying to break down the semantics of why a character might enjoy a certain flavor over another.

Jaehee

Angel's Food Cake! You thought I was going to say that she would love coffee cake, didn't you? I feel like her favorite kind of dessert is one that is gentle on the tongue. You can't go wrong with fresh fruit and a gentle sponge. I imagine it might take her back to her childhood with her parents and what's better than that? It's nice to have a good memory. I know she makes a lot of different things for her cafe, but for whatever reason, I always think she enjoys the most gentle things.

Zen

Hotteok. Street Pancakes. He just isn't the kind of person who eats a lot of sweets, but I know he loves to visit different vendors because he has a lot of friends who have gotten out of gang life and end up making food for others. I think the closest you can get to him enjoying a suite is something he could pick up from a friend. They can be stuffed with different things, but I think brown sugar and cinnamon might be his go-to! I think they can add nuts too!

Yoosung

Funfetti Cake! I know what you're going to say, I can already hear you, why did I give him the flavor that would make him look like a kid who hasn't tried different things before? Well, I raise you the idea that sometimes people like what they like and it doesn't matter if it seems childish to you, he knows what he likes, and it happens to be sprinkles in his cake batter. You can't go wrong with it at the end of the day.

Jumin

Cheesecake! I just can't see him eating a cake for some reason. That's not to say that he doesn't like them, it's just that when I tried to imagine what he would like to enjoy, I came to the same conclusion. He wants a cheesecake slice and some coffee to go with it. He likes to indulge in the flavor now and again and I think that makes sense for him.

Saeyoung

Red Velvet. Again, I don't know what it is about him, but I feel like he really enjoys cream cheese frosting. The only thing that gets me with this is that in one of the folders that you can purchase from the marketplace, there's a birthday cake with blueberries and strawberries. Which implies to me that he likes blueberries, but there's no other evidence to back that up and there's nothing in the world that says he couldn't put blueberries on any cake so I've decided he's just going to put blueberries on red velvet cake.

Jihyun

Tiramisu! I feel like this makes sense and I don't even need to explain it because the people who get it—will get it and the people who won't—won't. There's just something about him sitting in the back of a cafe with a plate of tiramisu on one side and a scathing 10th grade essay on the other where he's going to argue up and down some sort of pretentious conclusion to an art piece. I'm going to say I support it because he's so goofy, but I can't unsee this.

Saeran

Strawberry Shortcake! The game points this out for me and I don't think I can argue with that. Although, I will say Unknown did have a drawing for his birthday where he had a big Black Forest cake. But, I don't know if that's his favorite, considering that there was a bottle of wine in the picture and I had a bad feeling about who set out a birthday display for him to begin with and why they picked what they picked. In any case, give this man some strawberry shortcake.

Rika

Devil's Food Cake! I didn't pick this because I thought it would be a funny joke. I picked this because she seems like somebody who likes to indulge. She decided she was going to unleash her devil and not let anybody stop her from enjoying herself, no matter what that meant for the people around her who suffered because of it, and tasting a very rich, dense chocolate cake is a representation of that sentiment.

Vanderwood

Carrot Cake! I don't even really have an explanation for this one other than it just feels right. I don't see them as somebody who enjoys a lot of sweets, but if they're going to have something, the most nostalgic thing they could think of would be something from their childhood, and I just think that's carrot cake.

#mod kait #ask #mystic messenger #anon #mysme #saeran choi #mysticmessenger #mm #choi saeran #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #yoosung kim #kim yoosung #jaehee kang #kang jaehee #rika kim #kim rika #vanderwood #jumin han #han jumin #jihyun kim #kim jihyun #hyun ryu #ryu hyun

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 3

Part 3:

Liana hadn't seen Art for three days. Ever since they started studying at Stanford, not a day had gone by without his presence being felt. Even if just for five minutes, he would pop up suddenly and disappear just as quickly. Liana wouldn’t say it out loud, but his presence had started to grow on her. She was never the most popular kid or the most popular teen. She always had two or three friends. And Art, it's not very clear who he is in her life, but he's a figure that's there. Present. Breathing the air she breathes. Knowing the people she knows. Laughing at her words, annoying her with his. She hadn't seen him for three days and it's bothering her. So today, she decided to go to the open practice for the first time, and Art wasn't there either.

"Are you looking for Art?" a female voice sounded behind her, and she turned around. Facing her was Tashi. Liana searched for the words, something that was always complicated for her; finding words in front of people she didn’t know or felt threatened by. Right now, she needed to answer 'yes' or 'no', and all she could do was stare. "You're Liana, right? Patrick showed me a picture of you with the boys, and I’ve seen you a few times with Art. Are you looking for him?" she explained and asked again. "Oh, yeah..." Liana managed to find her voice, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. Unwanted color flooding in. "Did you see him?" she squeaked, trying to steady herself in front of the girl before her. "He just texted that he wasn't coming to practice today. Nice to finally meet you. Maybe we can have lunch sometime." She smiled briefly and moved towards the court, leaving Liana in the stands. A bit more worried than she had been before.

She knocked on his door three times. Then another three. And then six more. After the fifth round, he opened it for her. It was the first time she had been in his room, and he couldn't hide his surprise. "Li?" Art's voice sounded weaker than usual. "You didn't come to the open practice," she said coolly, looking at him and furrowing her brows. He didn't look good. In fact, he looked like shit. His hair looked greasy, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were sunken with dark circles around them. Art Donaldson looked awful. "What happened to you?" She gave his arm a light push, which made him lose his balance and almost fall, but he understood her intention and moved aside. He ran a hand through his hair, a tic she knew he had; when Art was nervous, frustrated, or confused, his hand automatically went to the back of his neck, a few seconds of that until he gets a grip and acts as if nothing had thrown him off balance. "You were at the open practice?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Stuck on that piece of information. Almost wanting to request that the sentence be engraved on his tombstone when the time came. 'Here lies Art Donaldson, whose open practice Liana Levi attended.' His parents would surely be thrilled. "For four and a half minutes, then I realized you weren't there." She said as she walked to the window and opened it. "Your room stinks," she stated, turning her gaze back to him. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" she added. Sure, they weren't best friends, but they were supposed to be each other's emergency contact. They were supposedly here together. He made sure to remind her of that once a day. And now, in a real emergency, he wasn't talking to her. "Because it doesn't matter, I already feel better," he tried to speak in a more upbeat tone, one he thought characterized him but failed miserably at it. Her hand was on his forehead, causing him to immediately lean into it and close his eyes. "You're burning up, damn it, Art." She moved her hand from his forehead to his cheek, realizing that the situation might be worse than she thought and beginning to think of a plan. "Okay, I need you to get in the shower, alright?" she spoke softly. He looked at her, his mouth half-open. "Where's your spare key?" she asked, without looking at him too much, opening the closet intending to find clean sheets there. Art watched her bustle around his room, and despite feeling awful, worse than he had felt probably in the last two years, he found himself smiling. Liana was worried about him. She would make sure he was okay. "Art, do you hear me? I need you to get in the shower, I'm going to get a few things. Can you do that for me? I'll be back in half an hour." she said assertively, and he handed her the key as she requested. "Please be done with your shower when I get back." She ran her hand over his forehead once more, almost causing him to surrender to her touch and close his eyes again, but just as she had entered like a storm, she left like one.

Liana went down to the cafeteria after making a phone order. She returned to her room with the soup and grabbed the bag she had prepared for Art. When she entered his room, the shower water was still running, so she decided to use the time to change his sheets and put the lemon, ginger, and honey in his fridge. He came out in a towel and looked at her, leaning against the doorframe. He felt blessed. His head hurt, he had sneezed forty times that day, and all his muscles ached, yet he felt blessed. "You didn't have to, Li..." he mumbled, and she turned to him. "Good, you're out. Get dressed and eat the soup. If it's cold, let me know and I'll go heat it up." There was a microwave on each floor, so that was an option. Art went back to the bathroom and put on long pants, unable to bring himself to wear a shirt. "I also brought you some pills I had. If you need anything else, I can go get it, this is just what I had in my room," Liana babbled, realizing she was behaving in an uncharacteristic way. It dawned on her too late that Art probably thought she was crazy. More than that, that he didn't want her presence in his room right now. She had invaded his personal space and decided on her own that she was there to stay, when he hadn't really invited her. He had done everything to avoid seeing her in the past few days. He sat down to eat the soup at his desk, unable to take his eyes off her for fear she would disappear and he would be alone again, wallowing in his own misery. "Is it hot?" she asked, not knowing what else to say. "It's great. Thanks, Li," he smiled sincerely, and she reached her hand towards his forehead again. "Can I?" she made sure to ask this time, hesitating and seeing him nod. Her hand moved from his forehead to his cheek automatically, and he sighed for a second. "You're still warm." Her brow furrowed again. "When you finish, take this pill, okay? It's supposed to help with the fever..." she added, starting to gather her things. "Are you leaving?" he asked. Art's voice sounded more desperate than he intended. He wanted to sound indifferent, as if he didn't mind being alone. As if the last three days hadn't been an isolated nightmare filled with self-pity. "You can stay a bit longer. If you want," he added quickly, saying the sentence fast as if it would make it vanish from the air. "Okay," Liana said and nodded. "We can watch an episode of 'Gilmore Girls'," she smiled. Every summer, she forced Art and Patrick to watch a few episodes of 'Gilmore Girls'. If she had to be stuck with them, at least some of the time they would do what she loved. She was sure they liked the show because sometimes they would make comments about it. Art shrugged while finishing the soup, acting as if he didn't care if she stayed or not. In reality, he wanted to smile victoriously because he had won today. No one could argue that Art was the winner of this day. "You can take a shirt from my closet if you want," he told her, and she nodded. If they were going to watch an episode of the show, they would watch it on his laptop, in his bed. She couldn't stay dressed in jeans, and besides, they had seen each other in much less clothing over the years. So Liana put on one of his oversized boxers and a Stanford shirt that was at least two sizes too big for both of them. Art looked at her and nodded for a moment, lying down in bed and waiting for the moment she would say it was too much for her. That despite all her good intentions, she and Art weren't going to share a bed just so he could feel better. They hadn't done that since they were six, probably because she wouldn't even sit next to him on the same couch. "We're in Logan's season, are you excited?" she asked with exaggerated enthusiasm and sat down next to him. He automatically pulled her closer. "Aren't you afraid of getting sick?" he felt like the biggest jerk in the world for asking only after he had pulled her that close. "My immune system has never let me down, Donaldson, and it’s not going to let me down today." She started the episode while getting comfortable next to him.

As the episode progressed, her hand found its way to his hair, playing with one of his blonde curls that, just like Art Donaldson himself, had grown on her. "That feels nice…" his voice was barely audible as he was close to falling asleep, his head half on the pillow and half on her shoulder while his arm was wrapped around her. Just before Art fell asleep, focused on Liana's breathing and her fingers in his hair, instead of the show, he realized he didn't need much to feel good.

heyyy there. How are we feeling about this chapter? I hope the slow burn isn't too slow for you...any thoughts? I know that Patrick wasn't here at all, but he'll have his comeback, don't worry. Also, should I do a tag list? It feels a little too much since I really don't know if there are readers who want to come back. I really want to hear from you so feel free to talk to me (PLEASE). By the way- I still feel like my English is ruining the story, but again, I'm trying. Thanks for reading. It means a lot ❤️

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers #challengers fic #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #tashi duncan

[sports-on-sundays]

marc and reader breaking up bc of too many arguments and him being super sad

arguments / Marc Guiu / Part 2

Summary: Marc x female!reader - Marc is devastated because of the break up.

Warnings: implied depression, foul language, angst, mention of screaming, anxiety, mention of crying, angst, nausea

Requested?: Yeppers

Author's Note: Link to Part 1. There was another request that led up to this really nicely so I decided to just connect them as a part 1 & 2.

Marc Guiu stares up at the ceiling of his bedroom at two o'clock in the afternoon with the windows closed and the lights off, feeling like it's two o'clock in the morning.

You can't keep living like this, Marc. What's done is done. You said what you said. There's no way to fix it. Just move on.

But I can't.

I can't stop myself from loving her.

Pathetically enough- and Marc would admit in an instant that it is thoroughly pathetic- ever since that fateful day when she cut it off, his days have been a haze of football, sleeping, every so often forcing himself to eat and drink water, and doing what he's doing right now: letting the two sides of his thoughts argue with each other.

No one cares if you love her. She's done with you. You messed it up; it's your fault; oh well.

There's no way to fix it.

Just move on.

But no matter how much he tells himself, over and over, to just do that, it's like he can't.

It's like the picture of your lovely face is imprinted on the backs of his eyelids, so every time he blinks, every time he sleeps, you're there, looking like the angel you are, reminding him of how much he messed up.

"Ah!" he yells, tugging at his hair. "You idiot! You ruined it! Everything! She was the best thing that ever happened to you, and you fucking messed it up!

"You pathetic bastard! Get up and live your life! It's done! She's moved on and is probably happier than ever! Why are you letting her control you like this?"

On top of it all, he's been avoiding Gavi like the plague, knowing that you one hundred percent likely told him everything, all from your perspective, and knowing because of that, now Gavi probably hates his guts, too.

So, yeah. He's been avoiding Gavi and anyone close enough to him to have also heard. So Pedri is also off limits, and Ferran and João are iffy.

It's hard when he trains or plays with these guys nearly every day!

The only person he's told is Héctor, mostly just because he pried it out of Marc enough. He got annoying enough.

Ah, you idiot. Quit crying.

You're not going to let that girl ruin your life like this.

"Maybe he's not the only one who was in the wrong."

"What?" you ask, looking up at your best friend, Gavi. "What do you suppose I did wrong?" you ask, not too happy with this sudden statement from him.

Gavi shrugs. "I'm just saying, maybe you should've heard him out before it escalated so much. I don't know, though. What do I know?"

But you frown. "Probably nothing, but it still makes me think."

"Gee, thanks," he says, rolling his eyes.

"I honestly don't care, you know. It's fine. I don't want him back."

Gavi's lips purse as he says, "Then why do you bring him up every single conversation?"

You don't have an answer for this.

"Exactly," Gavi comments with a slight roll of the eyes. "Listen, I'm just saying- Marc isn't himself at all since you guys broke up. He's a shell of himself, and refuses to talk, honestly, anyone but Héctor, if he doesn't need to."

You frown. "I know, but..."

"All I'm saying is maybe he had a point."

"What does that mean?"

"It means if you're going to date someone, you've got to give stuff up for them. Including time and attention. And you were giving far more of that to me. I'm not saying you should get back with him; do what you want. But I am saying it's probably best to make amends, and not just let the last note of the symphony be screaming at each other, yeah?"

You lick your lips nervously. "I'll think about it."

Marc can see Héctor is staring at something behind his head, but before looking leans over to ask, "What is it?"

"Um," Héctor smiles nervously. "Y/n."

Immediately, Marc's eyes widen, reminding Héctor of a frightened rodent. "Please tell me you're joking."

Héctor gives a short shake of his head 'no.' "With Gavi and Pedri," he practically mouths.

Marc leans back, trying not to look easy to notice. Trying to look discreet. "Is it safer to leave or stay?"

"I reckon stay," Héctor responds.

Marc softly blows a raspberry, before looking down at his food. "My luck, I tell you," he murmurs.

"Sometime soon, you knew you'd run into her."

"I hoped not."

Héctor sighs. "I know."

Marc feels his anxiety rise when he watches you walk pass. Tossing your hair, with the sway in your step, confidence radiating off you.

He sinks his head down lower, nervously curling his napkin.

And then, as you're walking back, it's like something else takes control of his body, and he can't help himself but look up at you.

Your eyes meet.

Yours widen for a moment, and your steps begin to slow.

Marc is suddenly hit with a wave of nausea, and he says suddenly, "Héctor, let's get going now."

And you watch Marc and Héctor walk out, away from you, just like that.

But there was something strange in Marc's eyes.

Sorrow.

Loneliness.

Confusion.

Defeat.

But most of all, regret and guilt.

And seeing him like that makes you feel... strange.

You're not sure if you like it.

Shadows, passing in the night. Wind, come and gone. These mysterious concepts. A lonely boy and a confused girl.

Hands in his pockets, head down. It's become the natural stance for him. His hair has grown out and shadows his inky brown eyes. So many emotions that they're gone.

Imploded.

She holds her head up and flips her hair. Sharp tongue, quick remarks. Little glimmer when she winks. Confidence is key, but there's one thing that nags at her.

She wonders if it was all a mistake.

Their eyes meet on a dark street in the middle of a cool night, when neither of them should be out.

They both open their mouths to speak, but sound comes out of neither of them.

He reaches his hand out to her.

If he could fall into her arms, he would.

But the shadows shift, and she's gone. The wind carries her away. Like a secret not meant for his ears. Like a promise broken. Like glass that shattered but never made a sound.

Never hit the ground.

On a concrete wall, the side of a building, he writes with a Sharpie:

I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I still love you.

I need you to come back to me.

On a bathroom mirror, she writes in blood red lipstick:

Why can't I forgive him? Why can't I let him forgive me?

Why can't I let myself love him?

#sports-on-sundays #fcb #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #barcelona one shot #barcelona fc #barça #barcelona #barca #barcelona imagine #barcelona fanfic #barcelona spain #barcelona imagines #barcelona one shots #barcelona oneshot #barcelona oneshots #barcelona blurb #barcelona blurbs #barcelona fic #barcelona fics #barcelona fan fic #la liga #football #soccer #barcelona fan fics #spain #laliga #barcelona fanfics #barcelona fan fiction

[hadesoftheladies]

palestine is a wake up call to all the people in the global south and all countries and peoples that have experienced colonialism by western empires. especially following the western world's response to ukraine.

when you're flooded with footage of children starving, their bodies shredded by missiles, shrapnel and collapsed buildings, when you see once vibrant, beautiful lands reduced in seconds to rubble . . . you realize how easy it is to provoke a white man. all you have to do is a be a person of colour on your land with all its natural resources. that's it. all you have to do is exist on the same soil as your ancestors. and if a white man says you're in the way of his expansion, it doesn't matter what moral ethics you think white people have. it really doesn't matter what you expect of a human being. what conscience you think they have.

you will die. no one will rescue you. they will murder you. torture you. they will justify it. they will make jokes about it. and years later, when it's not too inconvenient for their people to feel guilt, they will feel sorry and still make what they did to you about them. about their "human complexity" and their "nuance." your people will be dead for thousands of years before they "apologize" (not to you but) to their descendants. and even then they'll lie. they'll blame the "internal conflicts of the region." conveniently leaving out who supplies the guns and military gangs. why. what they get in return.

what's happening in congo, tigray, palestine, haiti, iran, afghanistan, etc is not an isolated event. you cannot afford to think so. it's literally what they did from the 17th-20th centuries. the exact same tactics. the exact same propaganda. these are millions of people dying and set up to die within this year alone.

white man sees resource, white man cuts a bloody path toward it. he is superior, so it's his right. it's that simple.

if you are self-righteous about politics (especially toward western empires like france, britain, russia, canada and the u.s., etc.) please understand that the only thing between your "peaceful" or stable country and all-out war is how agreeable you are to the demands of these empires. please don't think these people have evolved or will consider you in any way. they will nuke you, too, if you resist. that isn't peace. we don't have peace with them. they aren't peaceful. complying under threat of war isn't peace. coercion is not consent.

if these insane people can hear from the mouths of their own scientists that their wars are killing their own people and accelerating the death of life on this planet, i don't know why you'd think they have a shred of humanity left in them. that there's anyone in this life they could possibly care for.

reject that lie. that you can appeal to their humanity. how many fucking "peace talks" have we had since hitler? for fucks sake. begin to build your community and focus your aid and efforts on each other. be aware, but also think smaller. focus on local businesses and markets rather than imports. let's change the way we consume (this is hugely important). wherever you are, whichever people concern you, take care of your own communities. give back. even if you're part of the diaspora. just find a way to give back and strengthen your communities. don't let "the drain" empty out in the west. i'm not claiming its simple work, or that i have all the answers. i'm just saying increase your awareness of how these empires and their propaganda function and don't give into them however you can afford to. you know what you can do. you know your own communities and countries better than i do. and we all know that one of the prime ways the empires keep us weak is by destroying or own intracommunity solidarity.

because there is no UN we can appeal to. there is no western "mediator" we can rely on.

they'd kill us all if it wouldn't tank their economy.

internalize that. don't ever let them coax any trust out of you. there is no "international unity" we can have with them because their prosperity will always require our suffering. resist, at least, by reclaiming your mind from them. see them outside of how they have conditioned you to see them. every time your president shakes one of their hands, see the blood smearing them.

don't trust a single word out of their dirty, lying mouths.

#the u.s. and kenya have recently been in a lot of talks #and with it has come a series of bad news #it is now illegal for local farmers to sell indigenous seed #which you just KNOW is for the benefit of usa gmo markets #more us and western political ambassadors are settling in kenya as well #we're so cooked lol #we're so fucking cooked #free palestine #free sudan #free congo #haiti #not a pan-africanist bc i think this global movement should extend to all the southeast #free iran #free tigray #free yemen #free haiti #sudan #palestine #congo #tigray #make your money abroad if you must #but don't let it stay there #these parasites will take everything they can #majority world countries are you seeing what i'm seeing? #because i know you are #globalism #humanitarian crisis #racism #colonialism #imperialism

[pesky--dust]

Choose violence :3

1, 3, 9

@t3acupz, I'm answering very fast, I know, lol.

1. the character everyone gets wrong

To be honest, I hesitated between choosing Abigail or Jack. And I'm choosing Jack. Give this poor man a break. I wrote quite a long analysis about him!

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

That's a good question. I dunno. Even bad takes I try to consider as someone's headcanon.

I guess that I have enough of the take that they die at the end of the season 3.

9. worst part of canon

Okay, you all may hate me, but let it be the fact that no, I don't think Alana Bloom is a well-written character.

It pisses me off that in the first two seasons, the creators turned her into just a tool (recommending Hannibal to Jack, being opposed to actions regarding Abigail) and a "love interest" for Will and Hannibal.

Considering Jack ignoring or even discrediting Alana whenever he hears what Hannibal has to say, is sad and isn't in the line what Jack allegedly think of her - that she is intelligent and professional. Moreover, I think that most statements of Dr. Bloom from the book in the show have been attributed to Hannibal to make Hannibal even more "superior".

The creators of the series limited her to a love interest who doesn't know what she wants (she is interested in Will, but she knows that due to her profession she should not be with him, because she knows that she would diagnose him (Apéritif and Fromage), but in the next episode after Fromage, where she has been kissed by Will and after rejecting him, she comes to him to say him that she feels something for him, but he is too unstable for her (Trou normand)). For me, these are a bit of mixed signals that fit into female stereotypes, which I hate.

I'm really grateful to the actress that she decided to take matters into her own hands and suggested what to do with Alana in the third season.

And no, not liking a female character because of the way she is written does not make me a misogynist.

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal nbc #pesky--dust thoughts

[chaifootsteps]

while it's nice to see Vivzie finally acknowledge Stella is worthy of pity 'in her own way' (something about the phrasing on that tweet rubs me the wrong way tbh, feels like they're implying her pain is like less important or valid or something? might just be me) it's kind of frustrating to see the end of the tweet say 'that doesn't absolve her of the pain she's caused', because like

I haven't seen many people making that argument, tbh?

like sure there are Stella stans who unironically say she was in the right to order a hit on him and it's fair retribution, but I don't think they're the majority

the majority of fans & former fans I've seen are just frustrated at how much of a caricature Stella is; as a portrait of an abuser she's incredibly poorly done and as an intended Hate Sink with no redeeming qualities she's frustrating because her backstory is just as tragic as Stolas', arguably more so because she has way less power & social mobility than him yet we're supposed to treat her like an irreedemable monster because the writers decided she was evil since birth.

I don't pity her because I like her or because I excuse anything she's said or done to Stolas. I pity her because I look at her backstory and can easily imagine how much of a nightmare her life is & how the fandom only ever seems to consider the 'arranged marriage' part of it and not the laundry list of other things that are awful about Stella's life. And I pity her because she reminds me of people IRL - mostly women - who are stuck in awful circumstances then are victimized twice by people who, if they even recognize the circumstances are bad, don't care about how that influences the person they currently are or why they behave in ways that seem inexplicable to us

for example the whole Stella likes throwing parties thing. we're obviously supposed to take it as a sign she's vapid and shallow, but what else is she supposed to do? at least if she throws parties misery can have company & her friends can visit. We see Stolas make fun of her for not knowing how to spell, but was she ever expected to be literate or allowed to have interests outside of raising a child she didn't want? the show just doesn't care to answer what society looks like for someone in her position. her interests only matter insofar as they provide a vector for the viewer to hate her some more

(going back to the recent discussions around MLP it's so noticeable they went out of their way to avoid 'stereotypical feminine interest = worthy of scorn' by having Rarity & Pinkie's interests be fashion and parties and the rest of the cast being chill about that even if they don't share that enthusiasm)

I know there are some proposed fix it scenarios in your inbox that often throw in 'and then Striker kills Stolas' as a closer but like even those don't sound like they approve of Stella or anything she does. far as I can tell they just hate Stolas and are tired of him because the show keeps insisting he's a perfect angel who never means to hurt anyone so that makes it OK. there's no chance of getting any catharsis seeing Blitzo or anyone else stand up to him, so we have to imagine it. It's even more galling considering Stella keeps most of her ire focused on Stolas whereas Stolas is exploiting and gaslighting a member of the lower classes. I mean at least Stella seems to have no delusions about who or what she is, she knows she's being awful and she revels in it. Stolas meanwhile is in total delusion about who he is and what he's done & the show is running out of chances to fix that

so like yeah, nothing Stella has suffered absolves her of her treatment of Stolas. But that exact logic applies to Stolas, too, yet the show wants us to show him more than pity - it expects us to like and empathize with him while he frees Blitzo from sexual slavery mainly because he feels entitled to love & affection that he's not getting and was never owed

That's what it boils down to, really. Stella's not allowed a free pass, while Stolas is allowed to hurt whoever he wants for any reason.

#Anonymous #actual blog post #helluva boss critical #viv stuff

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

vignette. strawberry candies.

parts: previously plot: while at your place, you discover that someone has hurt judith. you turn to the only person who can help. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, mostly bruce-centric, fluff, a bit of angst, bruce dealing with kids, mention of guns (no shooting), mentions of alcohol and smoking, bruce will get on this old lady's good side if it kills him. words: 3.2k. a/n: while outlining the next chapter, I thought up a sweet little filler chapter that takes place all in one day before and during the events of chapter 9. warning for the POV change after the first scene.

"Judith, what happened to you?"

The old lady feels your thumb brush the bandage above her eye and closes her fingers around your wrist, dragging it away, "It's nothing. It's nothing."

"Hell if it is," you rush her inside your apartment, shutting the two cops out with a kick to the door. You lead Judith to your couch, sitting her down as you kneel before her. Other than the bandage on her eye, she looks the same except for something small. You've noticed her nervous shakes before, never peculiar, but they were hard to ignore today. They rock in her lap as she keeps them folded, "Did you fall?"

She looks insulted at that, kisses her teeth at you for it. She'd had very few falls in the past, as sturdy and stubborn as a bull. But even as you examine her demeanor, you know it isn't that. Uneasiness sets in your chest. "No, I... I ran into some boys on my way home from church. That's all."

Your uneasiness begins to bubble into wrath, "Who?"

"It doesn't matter, child."

"Judith, I'm serious." Her eyes bore into yours, trying to show herself immovable, but you can feel yourself begin to tremble at the thought that Dimitri might have-

"It was some kids on the corner." She finally relents, looking away from you. "They wanted my purse, that's all."

"The corner where? By the liquor store?" Her eyes cut away from yours, guiltily, "Judith, what were you doing walking that far? You never get off the bus that early."

It was why she started taking the bus in the first place. People lingered on the streets that late, waiting for any easy target to snatch from or snatch up. With the rise in dropheads, people would take whatever money they could get, however they could get it.

The men on the corner usually kept to themselves though, nursing paper bag bottles and hiding out from the rain underneath the overpass. They usually cast a sneer and let you keep on walking if you ever found yourself around their side of town. You'd never gotten close enough for them to want to attack.

Judith frowns, "I missed it. I thought I'd walk."

"What did I tell you about walking home alone? If you have to, you call me, or you call one of the deacons, or a cab-"

"I did call you," Judith snaps, making your blood run cold, "and you didn't answer. So I called again. And then I figured you were busy or working late, so I walked on home. I'm old but I'm not senile."

Your frown deepens, "I didn't mean it that way."

"I even came to your door and you weren't there. So I handled it myself."

"You were right. I was working late." Your fingers brush your pocket where your phone lies dead, "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Proud as she is, she doesn't look you in the eye, but you feel some of her anger melt away over time. Her hand finds yours and squeezes it, "It's not your fault. It's mine. I should've known better."

You want to bite your lip until it floods your mouth with blood. You couldn't imagine what might have happened if she'd been hurt worse, left to fend for herself in the dark. If they'd been angry, looking for someone to take it out on, and she'd been in the wrong place...

And Judith with all her pride. You can tell she barely wanted to talk about it, had hoped you might not notice. "Listen, Judith," you begin, feeling her watching you from her peripheral, "I'm not gonna be around for a while. I won't be far, I'll still be in the city, but I won't be... here."

"You're finally getting a real place?"

You laugh, "Sort of. It's temporary. Look, I won't be right here anymore so I need you to take care of yourself. I'll come running if you need me but-"

You're silenced by her two, chilly hands cupping your cheeks in between them. Stern as ever, Judith fixes you with a strong look, "I'll be okay. Don't you worry."

"You sure? I don't wanna have to call the nursing home on you."

One of Judith's hands takes your cheek into a pinch and pulls, hard, "I said I'll be fine." Despite the pain, you smile all lopsided at her and she eventually releases you.

You make her tea, but all the while your eyes keep finding the white gauze above her eye, itching and itching at you until you think you might scratch yourself raw. You couldn't let this one go.

This feels decidedly more sinister, posing on an old lady's fire escape instead of yours. Bruce can see through the lace covering the window that Judith is still up, putting on a pot of tea, and he hesitates in knocking on the glass. He couldn't exactly walk through the front door, and if he came in through the rooftop, he'd risk being seen by neighbors in the hall. This was the only way, and it just might scare the living shit out of this woman.

Gently, he curls his fingers in and knocks.

Judith does not move from the stove. He knocks again, a little louder this time. Still, no reaction. He's seconds from asking you to call Judith to get her attention, looking away for just a second, when his eyes drift back to the window and there she is.

She's got a cast-iron skillet up above her head and the meanest mug he's seen this side of the east coast. It could put Penguin to shame.

They both stare at each other for a while.

When Bruce makes no move to leave, Judith yells through the window, "Go away, demon!"

Bruce had never gotten to know his grandparents on account of them all being dead. There was no old woman at Christmastime to spoil him with gifts and candies, no lovingly crafted wrinkles and sweet smelling perfume to remember a grandmother by. He had never been the type of person to walk old ladies across the street, either. He knew his place.

There was no way to make himself small enough for her to not see as a threat, and so they each watch the other, waiting for them to make a move. He certainly wouldn't be first.

After a good few (painstaking) minutes, she points the pan at the window and asks, "What do you want?"

"A friend sent me."

Her brows furrow, and then an even deeper frown overtakes her face (if that was even possible). "I don't want your help."

"Our friend is worried about you. And worried about anyone else those guys on the corner might hurt."

"Leave or I'll call the police!"

Bruce considers his options. On the one hand, she might call and they might show and think that he'd just scared the woman creeping by her window. He'd get a slap on the wrist and a reminder to take the roofs next time. On the other, he might get a trigger-happy recruit who'd need disarming and a detective who'd need explaining.

He figures he might take his chances with this one, if only to be a true glutton for punishment, "What did it look like?" Her eyes narrow in confusion, "Your purse. What did it look like?"

"I said I don't want your help."

Bruce hides a grumble in his throat. He has half the mind to just leave. He'd take the verbal lashing from you if it meant ending this conversation sooner.

But there would be a million more grumpy old ladies, and he'd be no better at talking to them then. "You used to keep a lighter in there. It was your husband's." Judith stills. Bruce feels himself getting a bit more confident, recalling what you'd told him, "He always kept it on him. I can get it back for you."

She doesn't say anything for a while, still holding her pan at arm's length. He feels a bit silly talking at her through the window, curtains still partially drawn, and he doesn't suppose he looks any cuddlier shrouded in shadow. But all she does is stare at him.

Bruce feels more elated than he expects to when the pan lowers.

"I doubt you'll find it," she starts, and he can almost barely hear the next part through the glass, "it was silver with our initials engraved on it. C and J."

Judith is looking away when she says it. It feels as good a time as any to get going, but he lingers there until she's looking at him before making his escape. He'd like her to know he heard.

It's not hard to find them.

A group of about five men are standing on the corner, all of them just as you'd described. They look inebriated enough to not even stand straight, and Bruce wonders how they'd had the brainpower to handle a woman like Judith just walking by.

Bruce hangs in the shadows, perched on a ledge above them as a train rumbles by above his head. One of the men flicks open a light to light his cigarette, and Bruce's eyes zero in on it. He can't see initials from this far, but its silver glints under the streetlight just so. It's enough to go off on.

Bruce drops from his ledge, catching only one of the men's attention as he lazily turns his head over his shoulder at the sound. He's slow to recognize him, but quick to gather close to his friends on the brick wall, "Fuck!" He shouts, slurring a bit, "Let's get out of here!"

The one furthest from him starts to run, but Bruce's grapple gun wraps around his legs and yanks him onto his back, dragging him further into the alley and closer to him. The others look loyal enough not to run off without him, but their fighting stances are weakened by their stumbling.

"Fuck you man, we didn't do anything." One argues, raised fists wobbling in front of his face.

"Yeah!" The others chime in.

The one held captive at Bruce's feet is whimpering and clawing at the wire digging into his ankles, pulling at it to no avail. Bruce places a boot on his chest and forces him back down, "I hear you've been stealing from old ladies."

"What? No way, man. We don't do that shit."

Bruce digs the heel of his boot into the space between his ribs, feeling him squirm in anguish, "Last night you did. You took her purse. Where is it?"

"I'm telling you, we didn't do that shit. We... we weren't even here last night." The man under his boot is pushing at it, desperate to get away. Bruce has the sinking feeling as he watches him, like a rat with his tail caught in a trap, that he's telling the truth.

"We're not the only ones who hang out on this corner, we swear," one of the bigger members of the group pipes up, looking worried for his friend, "some assholes beat us here yesterday. We hung out by the docks instead. Honest."

Another chimes in, "Yeah. Ask boss inside. He lets us hang all the time. He knows we weren't here last night." He gestures toward the liquor store and Bruce watches them for a moment longer, eyes probing. They had every reason to lie: they were all drunk off their asses, and his reputation preceded him. Even with the five of them, he'd have it handled.

But that sinking feeling comes back.

Bruce gives it a little bit before he finally takes his foot off the man's chest, and he watches him scramble to his feet, running back to his pack. Before they can run to safety, Bruce grabs the one with the lighter and snatches it from his grip, checking the sides. All silver, no initials. He tosses it back with just as much kindness.

"You know who they are?" Bruce asks, holding him by the scruff.

"You gotta promise not to rat boss out," he stutters, looking back at the store, "he knows the guys. One of 'em's his nephew."

A flash of irritation rushes down Bruce's spine. These things were never easy.

Bruce catches the store owner on his smoke break, seconds from lighting a cigarette before he makes himself known. The store owner shrinks back, and before Bruce can even ask, his voice comes out in a tremble, "Where is he?"

Bruce gets the feeling it would be better to say nothing.

When he doesn't answer, the store owner starts to beg, inching closer to him even as his expression contorts in fear, "You didn't hurt him, did you? He's just a kid!"

"Your nephew is the one hurting people."

The owner winces, but doesn't refute it. "Please tell me you didn't hurt him."

"Not yet," Bruce sidesteps the man, circling him in the low light, "and I won't if he stops robbing old ladies."

"He'll stop. I promise. I'll handle it."

"You knew what he was doing and you didn't stop him before."

"I... I've tried, okay? He doesn't listen-"

Bruce grabs the man's shirt and shoves into the side of a dumpster, the sound reverberating through the near-midnight air as he stares down at him. His name tag reads "Brian", and the sweat that slicks his brow is starting to coat the collar of his shirt. "Where is he now?"

A click sounds from behind his head. Bruce doesn't turn at first, but he already knows what's pointing at him from behind.

There's a kid there, no older than 17, holding a gun to the back of Bruce's head. He trembles like his uncle, "Let him go."

Being held at gunpoint doesn't get any less frightening, even if it happens to you every night.

There's still this primal urge clawing under Bruce's skin to duck and hide, something he shakes off the second he grabs the gun and forces it out of the kid's hand. The thing clatters to the ground and he kicks it away not a moment later, taking the teenager and shoving him into his uncle's arms. Bruce almost feels sick at the scared look on his face. As if he hadn't been the one about to pull the trigger.

Bruce leans down to pick up the gun and goes to unload the chamber, but there's nothing. His gaze coasts back up to the kid's and he feels his stomach churn at the sight, the thought. This kid had seen Bruce and still thought, even if it was a long shot...

Bruce holds the thing by the barrel, "You know how to use that thing?"

"Yes!" But Bruce doesn't believe him.

"Not loaded, but it's enough to scare old ladies, isn't it?"

The kid forces himself to look tough and mean, falling flat to Bruce regardless, "How the fuck would you know?"

"Her purse. Where is it?"

"What? What are you talking-"

"If you don't have it, your friends do. Do you want me to look for them too?"

A flash of fear. The kid hardens his expression but he's too late, "There wasn't even anything in it."

Bruce glances at Brian. He hasn't taken his eyes off him. He looks as if he'll jump between any blow he might throw at the kid. His eyes glide back to the kid's and he forces his voice to soften, "There was a lighter in it. Engraved. She wants it back."

Recognition replaces the fear. The kid is hesitant to move or say anything at first, but when his uncle places a hand on his shoulder, it's enough to push him forward. He swallows down his pride for just a moment, "It's in the store. Upstairs in my room. I... we spent the cash already but all the other stuff's in there."

Bruce stares at him, and without another word, the kid runs back into the store. Bruce listens for the sound of feet pounding against the staircase to make sure he wouldn't try to book it, but he returns just as quickly as he'd left, shoving the purse into Bruce's hands as if he couldn't wait to be rid of it.

A quick ruffle around in it reveals the lighter and a pocket Bible, among strawberry candies and pens. True to his word, the wallet looks and feels empty.

He wants to leave it at that.

But one more look at the kid and Brian and he's shoving the empty gun into Brian's chest, gritting through his teeth, "You clearly love him. Don't let him do something he'll regret."

Brian goes rigid. Fixes his jaw tight. He says nothing in response, but it's enough.

He'd meant to leave it at the window, but Bruce is surprised to find Judith still awake in her recliner, fingers twiddling with another copy of the Bible. No wonder she only mentioned the lighter.

Bruce knocks and Judith does jump this time, genuinely surprised. He holds the purse up and she moves as quickly as she can, prying open the window a crack. Just enough for him to slip it in.

He's careful as he slides it through and she snatches it from his grasp, digging through it until her fingers grasp the lighter. Bruce takes advantage of the opening to speak to her, quieter this time, "The cash is gone, but they didn't touch anything else."

She says nothing. She holds the lighter in her hands and it shakes, her lip trembling just so. Bruce feels his chest swell with nervous feeling. Three years of this and he was as if a novice all over again.

He's about to leave when he feels a hand tugging on the bottom of his cape and when he turns, he sees the window propped wide open and Judith's hand fixed into the material of it. She isn't crying but she's misty-eyed, holding onto him with all her strength. He forces himself still. He awaits a "thank you" or even a firm nod of approval, but in her other hand, she holds out a candy. One of the strawberry candies. His brows furrow. He can't make out where it's from, but he knows he can't refuse.

He plucks the candy from her palm and tucks it into his utility belt. Judith releases him, saying nothing more, but as he begins his descent down the fire escape, he feels her eyes watch him all the way down.

You stare at the candy in wonder, eyes twinkling. Bruce cannot understand why you're so excited, "This familiar to you?"

"You've been given the Judith seal of approval, just one step down from getting invited over for tea." Bruce frowns. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've never had one of these before. Everyone's grandma has 'em."

"I didn't know my grandmother."

Your eyes soften, chuckling nervously, "Ah, well. To be fair, your grandmother was in another tax bracket. She probably would've given you... I don't know, gold-flaked truffles."

Bruce narrows his eyes at you, though a smile creeps up not far behind, "Colorful imagination. Is that what you want for dessert tomorrow night?"

"Don't you fucking dare."

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