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pumpkin-stars · 2 years

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Warmin’ Up

Joel Miller/AFAB!Reader. Smut.

Joel takes a bath in a stream while you watch, then he needs warming up.

This has been in my drafts for so long (mid-December whoops) and I finally looked it over again and managed to finish it! (thanks to @honestly-shite for making this post ages ago that I obviously saved in the doc at some point bc that prompted me to finish it mwah 💕💕) (and also more thanks to Maia for drawing joel in a stream way back when I first yelled about the idea)

I watched a walkthrough of TLOU1 last year (just before I wrote most of this) so anything that’s not quite in character is my bad oops, I tried.

Warnings/Content: Joel is naked from the get go, lack of shampoo, grey hair appreciation, swearing, teasing, fucking on the forest floor, praise, vaginal fingering, p-in-v, tiddy sucking, his hand over your mouth, temperature play (if you squint), reader is called darlin’ a lot

Word Count: 2.8k

Masterlist

🚨😡 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 😡🚨

The sun warms his skin as he steps into the stream, clothes folded neatly on the bank, still within reach - his gun on top for easy access just in case someone unexpected shows up and disturbs him. The water’s cold, biting, even with the warmth of midsummer in the air, his skin prickles with goosebumps as soon as his feet are submerged, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up the way they do when he senses nearby danger, hunter and prey - like all humans have been reduced to these days.

There’s no danger now, though. Unless the fish suddenly decide to nibble his skin.

His nose scrunches as he wades in, a quiet grunt escaping him as his fingertips graze the water, one hand out to keep his balance as he steps over slick rocks, the other cradling his cock and balls against a direct onslaught of chill. He goes up to his belly button, barely able to see his feet - the water’s mostly clear, the rocks beneath darkening the depths, the surface marred by rushing white ripples leftover from the waterfall a short swim upstream.

The trees surrounding this part of the river offer seclusion, the old bridge downstream is impassable, overgrown with moss and weighed down by a fallen tree that makes this the only viable place for a bath: no metal contaminants, a strong but not too powerful current, plenty of places to duck and hide if an animal (or a hunter) comes along.

Not you, though. He won’t hide from you.

“You forgot the soap.” You smirk at him from the bank, lobbing the bar at his head, testing his reflexes as he catches it one-handed with a smile.

“Y’ever stop and think it was on purpose?” He drawls, “Drawing you out for some time alone?”

You shrug and sit on the rock beside his clothes, legs dangling down over the side, feet just above the water. “And what if I’d sent Ellie?”

“She wouldn’t’ve come out here just for soap.” He grins, “Knew I could count on you, though.”

You laugh, leaning back, head tilted away from him, grass in the sky and clouds on the ground as you relax as much as is possible, keeping an eye out for movement through half-closed eyes, listening to Joel as he moves through the water for a minute or two, squeaking indignantly as he splashes you. You sit up to glare at him, the world righted as he smiles at you.

You make no attempt to hide the way your eyes rake over him, watching as he ducks beneath the surface to wet his hair, coming back up like some scarred and dangerous sea-god, the water running over his face, beading in his eyelashes and funnelling off his bearded chin, catching the light and making the greys in his hair stand out all the more against the dark brown tresses.

He reaches up, lathering the soap, chucking the bar back to you as he raises his arms to wash his hair, remiss to use it there, but your supplies of shampoo had run down, left you with bar-soap and nothing else. The nearest store (ten miles east) had run out of almost everything, just four bars left that hadn’t been raided by others… some people are still picky even twenty years after the start of the end. He hates the smell, and so do you - some synthetically sweet, supposedly-strawberry concoction. Throwing it back to you avoids it being washed away downstream, as much as he’d rather not have to use it again. Still, it’s better than blood and sweat.

Nothing beats feeling clean these days, and while you long for daily hot showers, a quick dip in a stream every few weeks is the best you can hope for when you’re on the road. In the woods.

He ducks below the surface again, taking a little time to rub at his scalp, removing all the soap and grime before he emerges, facing downstream. He cups the water, splashing it up to rinse anything he’d missed from his face, giving you the perfect view of water running down his back, over those broad shoulders, tracing patterns over the natural grooves of his form, and chasing each other down, back to their rapid-running home… over the divots at the small of his back, down over the cleft of his ass that just peeks out over the water.

He turns around, and a smile grows on your face as the water drips over his chest. The strength he has is obvious, even with the softness he carries. Greys litter his chest, a light dusting over his sternum, the curls plastered against his skin by the water, nipples pebbled from the temperature. You wet your lips as water travels over his tummy, snakes around and over the scar tissue - new and old, and continues into the depths, some drops getting caught in the hairs below his belly button, but what you want to see most stays hidden in the small waves and ripples caused by backsplash from his presence.

He laughs, hands on his hips, and your eyes snap up to his face.

“Gotcha,” he smirks.

“As if you wouldn’t look if we swapped places.” You scoff, brushing off the heat that curls up your neck and into your cheeks, throwing the soap back as he gestures for it.

“Course not,” he rubs the bar directly on his skin now, over his chest and under each arm, “But I wouldn’t be embarrassed about it.”

“No?” You smirk as he balances, washing his feet before straightening again, “Your cheeks are looking a little pink there, Miller.”

“It’s cold.” He excuses, and turns his attention from you, focusing on cleaning his dick properly as you examine the spreading silver on his scalp.

The soap flies through the air again, landing beside you with a well-aimed splat, and he walks slowly back to the bank, grinning at you all the while as your eyes are drawn to every inch of skin that gets exposed, watching the rivulets navigate his thick thighs and muscled calves.

He likes the air on his skin, takes a moment to feel the grass between his toes and stretch all the tense muscles, his back protesting from age and carrying several guns and half your supplies around all the time. The water keeps him cold, the slight breeze chilling him further as the sun tries its best to warm him up, its efforts paling in comparison to the heat in your gaze.

“Forgot a towel too.” He tells you as he walks to your side, “You didn’t-?”

“Fuck, no, sorry.” You frown, looking around you, even though you know there’s not one there.

“S’alright.” He smiles, “Have to get dry another way, hm?”

You nod, eagerly anticipating as he leans down towards you, tilting your head just-so as his face nears yours… pouting when he continues past you to grab his clothes.

His chest rumbles as he laughs, kissing your cheek before stepping back, stopping where the trees are a little thinner, where the ground is mostly flat enough for two. “You gonna help get me dry or what?”

“Sweetie you gotta get wetter first,” you grin, scrambling from your place on the rock, t-shirt halfway up your torso by the time you stop in front of him. He gives you enough time to peel it off the rest of the way before he kisses you, holding you with a cold hand, fingers starting to prune, against your bare waist.

You break from him first, “I’m not lying on the ground.”

His eyebrows quirk up.

“Not naked.” You amend, grabbing the shirt from his hands and kneeling to lay it out quickly on the grass, feeling for any rocks or roots beneath it.

No use ruining a good fuck with a damaged spine.

You look back at him over your shoulder, eyebrows raising when you catch him looking at your ass.

“Get naked, darlin’. I need warmin’ up.” He smiles, setting his clothes within reach, gun on top just in case.

You grin, throwing a little twig at him as you turn over, sitting on his shirt as you contort, pushing your jeans down your legs, cursing at your own enthusiasm when they get caught on the top of your boots.

He waits, teeth gnawing his lip, watching as the pile of clothes beside you gets bigger, your nipples turning to stiff peaks against the cool air.

“You’re somethin’ else.” He drawls, one hand on his hip as the other brushes his bottom lip, looking down at you hungrily as you pull your underwear off, flinging it at him with a smirk.

He catches it, his smirk only growing when he feels the little wet patch you’ve left on them, “Well, look at this. I’m not the only one who got wet today.”

“Can you blame me?” You shift, leaning back on your elbows and spreading your legs for him, “I had a wonderful view.”

“And now so do I.” He almost growls and kneels quickly between your legs, half-hard as he guides you to lie flat, a large hand skimming your side as droplets break free from his beard and sprinkle your skin.

The cold water doesn’t bother you for long, Joel’s body looms over yours, and while it’s meant to be your role to warm him up, he’s doing a damn good job of getting you all hot and bothered.

“You really gonna let me fuck you out here in the forest, huh?” He grins.

“You can fuck me wherever you want to.”

He likes that, ducking his head to kiss you as his fingers trail over your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake, down and down, over that crop of curls, investigating your wetness.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me.” He breathes into your mouth, using your slick to coat his fingers before he presses one inside.

“Joel-“

“Shh, darlin’, can’t make too much noise in case o’hunters.” He smiles.

You know as well as he does that you’ve cleared the area, that the only people around are Ellie, safe and sound in a little cabin upriver, and a couple of disarmed corpses who’ll only disturb you if the infection suddenly helps them stand back up (in which case everyone still walking is well and truly fucked).

Still, you’re willing to try and stay quiet if he wants you to.

Your hands trail his torso and back, using the opportunity to feel as much as you can, checking for stiffness and hidden aches he won’t tell you about. You’ll need to work his shoulders once you get where you’re going, help him release all the tension he holds there, smooth out the knots as best you can.

He presses deeper, curling the finger up to brush your spot, and you abandon your exploration of him, eyes rolling back, sensitive from so many days untouched.

He grins as you gasp, tilts his head to kiss across your jaw and down your throat, sucking a mark into your neck as he adds a second finger, pumping them in and out in a steady rhythm, scissoring them to open you up for him.

“Joel…”

“I gotcha,” he smiles, “So wet already, darlin’… all because’a me?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, clenching around his fingers.

He adds a third, his thumb swiping over your clit, “gonna make you cum ‘fore I fuck you.”

“Get to it then,” you grin, gasping moments later as he withdraws, “Joel?”

“If you’re gonna be like that, I ain’t gonna do anythin’.”

“Please?” You wiggle your hips a little, enticing him back, “I’m sorry, I won’t talk back, you’re in control.”

“That’s right, darlin’.” He nods, “I am in control.”

Your eyes roll back as he slips two fingers in again, pumping them a few times before the third rejoins.

“Oh, Joel!”

“Shhh,” he whispers, “What’d I tell ya?”

“Sorry,” you match his volume, “So good…”

He grins, leaning down to kiss over your chest as his thumb rubs your clit once more, his teeth grazing lightly over your flesh before he sucks a nipple between his lips, eyes on yours.

He’s so good… it‘s so much… Those three fingers so thick inside you, meticulously providing pleasure with the same skill he handles a gun, trigger finger curling and applying just the right amount of pressure for the best results… The scratch of his beard on your skin, the drops of water that run from his body to yours, their temperature warmed between you as you fight off the cold together.

He swaps nipples, leaving a trail of kisses between, flicking over it with his tongue rather than sucking it into the heat of his mouth, his warm tongue contrasting with the cool air. Your cunt clenches hard, hips bucking up into his hand as he strokes over your spot, and laughs warmly around your nipple.

You cling to his shoulders, leaving little half-moon imprints in his skin as the pressure builds, his fingers working you up and up, higher and higher. Your lips part in a silent cry, breath stuck in your throat as you cum hard, Joel smiling against your chest as you lock up tight and turn to jelly moments later.

“So good,” He repeats your words, keeping his fingers inside you as you come down, catching your breath, “So tight when you clamp down.”

You smile at him, a little dazed from the pleasure, moaning quietly as he pulls out of you, resituates himself, hard cock warm, ruddy, and throbbing against your slit.

“Ready for it, darlin?”

“Always,” you breathe, pulling his lips to yours, coaxing him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him inside.

He goes easy, the familiar path, sliding home in one motion until his hips meet yours, grunting as you gasp, both grateful for this moment of relative calm - relative safety - and the privacy of your surroundings.

“So fuckin’ wet.”

“All for you, Joel,” you smile, “So hot.”

He smirks, “Yeah I am,” and ducks to kiss you again, starting a steady pace, too slow to make anything build except your impatience.

“Joel-!”

“I got you, pretty thing,” he grins, speeding up slowly, making sure to angle his hips just right.

His hands roam over you, rhythm never faltering, fingers drawing patterns in the water that clings to your skin, tracing JOEL through the droplets on your stomach. It tickles, and you squirm beneath him, until he thrusts harder, setting his forearms either side of your head, his face hovering above yours, broad shoulders blocking your view of the trees around you.

“You gonna let me have my way with your pretty pussy?” He wonders, “Let me fill y’up so ridin Callus makes ya squirm?”

“R-riding with you always makes me squirm.” You point out, breaking out into a loud moan moments later.

He grins, adjusting his weight again, moving to cover your mouth with his hand, “What’d I tell you about keepin hush?”

“Mmmf!” You whimper beneath his palm, clenching hard around his cock.

He laughs, speeding up yet again, knocking your breath from you, “Touch your clit, darlin… Wanna feel you cum around me.”

Your hand moves down, doing as he asks, more noises muffled as his own grunts and gasps are free to permeate around you. You can’t help glaring when he kisses the back of his hand, teasing you yet again as he denies you kisses just because you moaned. His smirk is insufferable, and you know, next time, you’ll get your own back somehow… whenever and however that may be.

“Fuck, darlin…” Joel grunts, “Takin me so well…”

He’s been riling you up for days, even when you haven’t been pressed close on the horse he’s found every excuse to touch you. A hand on your back as he moves past you, his thigh brushing your leg as you eat in whatever shelter you’ve been able to find, his touches lingering as you switch over night watch duty, waking you with a breath in your ear and a hand on your hip.

The only solace you’ve had from it is knowing he’s just as desperate for a fuck as you are. Proven by the way he pounds into you now, both of you desperate to claim a release, a moment of relief from everything in the world.

Your thighs shake, and Joel’s hand over your mouth tightens a little, knowing your close, that you’ll need his grip to hide your cries of pleasure from the birds twittering overhead.

“Mm-!” you whine, “Mmm-!”

“Come on, darlin, that’s it, cum for me, go on, yes… yes, that’s it, that’s it-!” His words are cut off as you orgasm, choking his cock as you clench hard, pussy pulsing around him desperately.

It’s only a few thrusts before he follows you, teeth bared, turning his cry into a strangled groan.

The two of you stay in position as you get your breath back, though your legs slip from around his waist and to the floor. He releases your mouth once his jellified body will cooperate, smiling as his forehead meets yours.

“Think I need another bath.”

#stuffiwrote #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal character fic

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wiklm · 3 months

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hello everyone!! i’ve compiled some genshin age headcannons with the help of @interstate35south !!!! because you’re all wrong and i’m SICK of every character only being in their early 20s or several thousand years old with no in between. this will not be nearly the whole cast it’ll probably be like 10 characters or so bc i don’t have time for all that (i’m a liar). ok here we go

- first up let’s talk about ragbros!! this post is gonna be mostly bullet points but we had more to say about these 2. FIRST of all: Diluc was missing for 10 years after Crepus’ death instead of 4. How do i know this?? he told me himself trust me. No but actually him being missing much longer feels more impactful for Diluc and Kaeya’s festering issues they’ve got going on ykwim?? as a wise man (intertstate35south) once said, he’s been gone for 4 years starting at 18?? big whoop that’s just college. Second: Diluc is like 43 ish, kaeya is 40 ish. Diluc came back to mond at ~28 and kaeya was ~25! between then by the time traveler arrives in mond it’s been about 15 years.

- next up cyno tighnari and collei!! i’m ill about them!! i actually have no clue at all what their approximate ages are BUT i’ve seen enough people hc them as being in their mid 20s that i felt the need to make this post in the first place (i am a drama queen)!! in my head i have decided that at the time cyno went to mondstadt to seal collei’s archon residue collei was ~12 (with some wiggle room b/c of how long she was with dottore) and cyno and tighnari were 36 and 34 respectively. as of traveler arriving in sumeru ik sayinf it’s been 3 years and cyno is at 39 and tighnari at 37 and BEFORE YOU TELL ME cyno is the youngest general mahamatra in ages YES that’s true but he could’ve still been the youngest and just been on the job for 15 or so years since being appointed!! he was still appointed young but he wasn’t made general mahatma last week ykwim??

- ok i’m done with the super long ones i’m so sorry for that!! next up we got beidou and ningguang. if i see one more of you call them milfs and then in the same breath say they are twenty seven the heat death of the universe is going to happen and it will be because of me. to be honest i can see them anywhere in the range of 35-47 i don’t really have a specific one for them!! but seriously stop calling them milfs and also 27 years old you can’t do that

- albedo!! i do think him being immortal and some unspecified very large age would be fun but in the case of him being a normal age even if he is immortal i give him a solid 34-37

- jean and lisa early-mid 40s!! it’s just more fun when lisa has substantially less time left yk it ups the stakes

- less of an age headcanon more of a dumb pet peeve of mine but if ONE more of you mfs calls zhongli an old man and then draws baby face twink zhongli.. lord.

-wriothesley 32 trust trust trust . he’s on the younger side for my age hcs bc i think he is still young just not like early 20s young yk

-thoma is in the same age range as diluc/kaeya/jean/lisa bc i am a diluc jean and thoma childhood friends truther

ok that’s all!! may reblog with more some day but for now this is all i got!! don’t take this too serious i’m goofing around and i think about this god awful game FAR too much it’s terrible actually

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 2 years

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Heyyy i wanted to request a ponyboy x reader with the prompt 1. And 12. (1. Butterflies, 12.daydream)🤍

Butterfly Daydreams

Y/N continued to doodle in the margins of Ponyboy’s notebook, taking advantage of his daydream in the middle of biology.

The teacher standing at the front of the classroom droned on and on, occasionally referring to what he had written on the board before going back to reading straight from the textbook. Ponyboy had stopped listening close to five minutes ago, attention shifting to watch the world outside of the window. When Y/N noticed, they took the opportunity to draw on the edges of his paper.

Tugging the notebook to make drawing more easily, Y/N’s pencil continued to flow across the pages. They had started with small stars that had morphed into flowers and other random squiggly lines. Y/N decided that the flowers they had drawn looked too lonely, and they quickly began to roughly sketch out the edges of a few butterflies floating around them.

When Pony nudged their knee with his under the table, Y/N paused mid-drawing, pencil hovering above the paper. Slowly, they lifted their face to look at him, giving the boy a sheepish smile.

“Whoops.”

Ponyboy rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head. “Whatcha drawin’?” he asked softly, nodding to the notebook.

“Nothing really,” Y/N muttered. They lifted their arms so Pony could pull the notebook back.

He was quiet for a moment, his green eyes looking over the doodles seriously. He would hum every so often before giving Y/N a shy smile. As he ran his fingers over a few of them, Pony was careful not to smudge the pencil lead.

“These are great, Y/N,” he said, laughing lightly under his breath. “Really great.”

The bell rang suddenly which gave Y/N an opportunity to hide their blush by ducking to repack their bag. “Thanks, Pony.”

“I mean it,” he assured, stuffing his books in his bag before standing up. “They’re really good.”

Y/N smiled, nodding gratefully. Pony smiled back, leaning down to press a light kiss to their forehead.

“I’ll see you at lunch, alright?”

“See you there,” Y/N confirmed.

Pony gave them one last love-struck smile before he walked out into the hallway, leaving a blushing Y/N to pack up the rest of their books and move on to their next class.

#the outsiders #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy curtis x reader

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styleswithaseaview · 3 years

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ok so what if it’s a big quidditch game and ced is VERY nervous and then once he is out on the field he sees you in his quidditch jumper and they win and later at the party in the huddle puff common room he is very clingy to you like yEAH MY GIRLFRIEND IS WEARING MY SWEATER AND I LOVE HER

Sweater Weather (i had to i'm not sorry)

Cedric Diggory x fem!reader

a/n : y/h in here means your house!! i mention it once i think. this turned out quite cute idc

warnings : swearing, i guess one mention of smut? blink and you'll miss it, drunk!! alcohol!!

taglist : : @cedricsbrowncurls @hoe4cedricdiggory @feliciamint @sugarywinterroses @faeinorbit @truly-insatiable @dianadiggory @animalcrackersinchurch @ceofcedric @annasdani

---

“S’okay, bub, it's alright, alright? You're going to do amazing, promise.” You croon, holding Cedric’s face in your hands as he takes uneasy breaths in and out, eyes far-off and worried.

“Y’promise?” Cedric says, looking into your eyes with a desperation that has you fighting back tears.

“I promise, Ced. I promise. S’okay, right? It's just one game, and everyone knows you're the best seeker out there. Better than the Slytherin one, hmm?” you say, running a hand through his disheveled brown locks.

“Pucey, ” he chokes out, grimace resting on his normally grinning features.

“Well, Mr. Pussy can kiss my ass, ” you say, raising your eyebrows, earning a soft laugh from the brunette whose lap you're sitting on. His head falls into the crook of your neck, arms pulling you tighter by your waist.

“Diggory??!” one of the Hufflepuff beaters called from outside the locker room, awaiting Cedric to fulfill his duties as captain.

“You better go, Ced. Y’going to do great, okay? You're gonna do amazing. I love you, now please go kick Pussy’s ass. I know you can, ” you murmur, kissing Cedric on the nose and standing up. He lets out a small giggle, standing up as well.

“Hand me my robes?” he asks, motioning to his Quidditch robes. You toss the garment to him, and he pulls off his jumper, which has his name and Quidditch number on the back of it. “Love? W-wanna... wear this?” Cedric says, holding out the sweater. You feel a blush spread to your cheeks, smiling childishly.

“F’course, Ced,” you reply, pulling it on over your sports bra with a grin. The soft knit fabric is loose and baggy around you, and it smells of Cedric; his signature woody cologne and a faint aroma of honey.

“Diggory! If you’re fucking your girlfriend right now I swear-” the same Hufflepuff beater yells, one of Cedric’s best friends (who never stops teasing you and Cedric). You laugh loudly, and Cedric goes red.

“Shut up! He's coming!” you yell, laughing.

“Coming to the pitch or...” he yells back, slight worry in his tone with an air of mocking.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, mate! We’ll be out in a sec," Cedric says, shaking his head. After he laughs for a second, the same worried expression returns to his face.

“W-what if I fall off? It's pretty windy today, Y/N, I-” he chokes out, brows turning up as he looks at you with watery eyes.

“Ced, hey, hey. I know this game is a big deal, and decides the house cup, but listen. Listen. It’s going to be great, okay? You’re an incredible seeker and athlete, and I have no doubt that you’ll kill it. Okay? I believe in you, love, I do, alright? You're going to do amazing. I'll be up there cheering you on, m’kay?” you coo, hands on the sides of his face as you look him in the eye. He gives you one last kiss, drawing put the taste of your lips on his, arms wrapped around yours - his - sweater as he hungrily takes you in. You pull away slightly, nodding at him to leave. “I love you, Ced. Y’got this, right?” you say as he lets out a nervous sigh, nodding before walking out the locker room door.

You go out the back exit that leads to the stands, holding your arms under Ced’s sweater for warmth as you watch the players release the balls and begin the game, sitting in the stands with nervous patience.

The beaters start to beat and the chasers start to chase, but your eyes are only on Cedric. You're relatively close to the bottom of the stands, about as far down as you could be without being first row, and sitting alone. Your other y/h friends are bunched together, barely paying attention, but your eyes are trained on Cedric. He's near the grass of the pitch, swooping down to monitor where the snitch could be. Pucey, the Slytherin seeker, is up high, surveying the field from above.

Then, you see a look in Cedric’s eyes; a glint, a slightly mischievous but more determined than anything, look. You trace his stare to a spot mid-air, about halfway between him and Pucey. His broom takes off and he’s whipping across the pitch, wind tousling his brown curls. Just as he gets closer, Pucey spots the glimmering gold as well, shooting down from above to fly alongside Cedric, attempting to knock him off his broom.

You’re almost screaming, face tensed as you cheer on Cedric with a ferocity that causes Cedric’s eyes to catch yours for a brief moment. Just a moment, suspended in time as his grey eyes meet yours. And in that second, you see his chest puff up and a determined expression settles on his face as he gains speed, now going considerably faster than Pucey as the boy nears the gold ball fluttering midair.

Everyone is screaming, Lee is yelling, and there's so much noise around you, but it's as if you can't hear anything. All you see is Cedric, and every bone in your body is hoping that he succeeds.

And then, Pucey looks down for a moment; it's unclear why, but the gesture throws him off balance enough to make him drop some speed, and Cedric is shooting in front of him, mere meters from the snitch.

Screams erupt around you as his hand closes around the glimmering object, and you stand up, grin enveloping your face as you ‘whoop’ loudly. Cedric catches your eye as he flies back to the center, and he winks. You bite your lip, hugging the sweater closer to yourself as you silently run down the secret passageway, through the locker room, and out onto the pitch, right as Cedric touches down.

You bound out onto the field, boots hitting the grass and kicking up dirt. Your hair is flowing wildly behind you as you grin, running towards your boyfriend as he beams at you.

He opens his arms wide as his broom falls to the ground, and you jump onto him like a koala bear, burying your head in his neck. He’s beaming, laughing as you cling onto him.

“Y’did it, Ced!! You fucking did it!!” you say, kissing him on the lips as he smiles into you.

“I couldn’t without you, ” he starts, “I saw you in the stands in my sweater and- it was like this burst of adrenaline... If you weren't there, I don't know what would happen-”

You cut him off, placing a soft kiss on his lips as you giggle softly. His arms move down to your waist, and suddenly, you're hyper-aware of the hundreds of eyes watching you from the stands, and some people that have run down to the field as well. You pull away, blushing slightly as Cedric sets you down, pulling you by your waist instead.

“Diggory!! Brilliant job out there, well done!!” the same beater from the locker room says, patting your boyfriend on the back. “Y’comin’ to the party later?” he asks, eyes flicking between the two of you. Cedric grins at you, tilting his head. You nod.

“Yeah, we’re coming!” he replies, pulling you tighter and placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Brilliant!! See you at nine!” he says, walking away as Cedric smiles at you.

---

The hour or so left in the day go by relatively quickly, as Cedric finishes winding down from his game. He's still relatively giddy, though, even after a shower - which you were sure joining him in was a bad idea, as he got even more enthusiastic.

Then, nine o’clock rolled around, and you were getting dressed in Cedric’s dorm while he leaned against the wall next to you. You were keeping Cedric’s jumper on, but pulled on a skirt with it.

“Fuck, I love it when you wear my clothes, ” Cedric whispers, grinning.

“Do you now?” you tease, looking over your shoulder at him with a cheeky grin. He nods, biting his lip before shaking his head.

“Let's go, we're going to be late, ” he says, pulling you closer to him and kissing your nose before dragging you out the door and downstairs to the common room.

Whoops erupt as the two of you walk down the stairs, and Cedric smiles widely, stepping into the throng of people who greet you both with grins and pats on the back.

About an hour later, Cedric has had about three firewhiskeys and you’ve had one, leaving you effectively a babysitter for your boyfriend. He's clinging to your side as you sit on the back of the couch, head resting on your thigh as he sits below you.

“This s’my girlfriend, y’know, ” he says to one of his friends who walks by, sitting down next to you.

“He knows, Ced, you've told him twice, ” you say, trying not to laugh as Cedric flashes you puppy eyes.

“S’not my fault I wanna show ‘ya off to everyone, jus’ love ‘ya too much, ” he slurs, kissing your thigh as you laugh.

“Face is up here, Ced, ” you say, sliding down from the back to the center of the couch so that his head is on your shoulder. He places a sloppy kiss on your neck, murmuring incoherent praise as you giggle softly.

“Ced, I need to go get some water for you, okay? I'll be right back, ” you say, pulling his lolling head off your chest and putting it on the back of the couch. He hadn't had too much, but he’s terrible at handling his alcohol when he isn't attending to you.

You walk over to the bar-like table in the corner that has miscellaneous drinks on it, finding the water, when you hear the sound of feet on a flat surface and stumbling.

You turn around to see Cedric standing on the coffee table, grinning crookedly as he beckons to you.

“I have an announcement, ” he calls to the room, who has about twenty people in it, now, as it gets later.

“Ced-” you start, standing below him, when he puts a finger to your mouth.

“Shhh, ” he giggles, turning to face the rest of the room. “This’s m’girlfriend, Y/N,” he states, “n’she’s wearing my sweater. It's mine, and she has it on. N’shes bloody beautiful, look’t her. W’wouldn't’ve won without her, I love her, ” he proclaims loudly, gesturing wildly at you as he grins. You're blushing now, telling him a weak ‘stop’, but you're grinning nevertheless. He pulls you by your hand up with him, and the people around you, who are likely as drunk as Cedric, are cheering, and Cedric is pulling you in for a kiss. You can taste the firewhiskey and chocolate on his tongue and it's intoxicating, growing harder to pull away. He's smiling into your lips, growing drunk off of you more than any firewhiskey could inebriate him.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory fic #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory smut #cedric diggory imagines

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raw-lesbian-energy · 3 years

Text

Butterflies

[Image description: Anonymous said

Actual prompt- maybe Anne poked marcys side to get her attention and noticed that it tickled her and they have a tickle fight?]

Okay so I maaaaaaay have gone a teeny tiny bit completely overboard with how gay this fic got, but I mean, it still fit the prompt? I hope? Anyways I am super proud of this so please enjoy!!

——

Summary: Marcy brings Anne out to study the fauna of Wartwood with her, but a small mistake turns the whole plan sideways in a rather silly way.

Fandom: Amphibia

Pairing: Marcanne (Mainly Anne pining but it’s cute shut up)

Features: None

Word Count: 1,080

Warnings: This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, just keep scrolling.

—————————————————————

“Hey Anne, check out this one!”

“Huh?”

Anne looked over as Marcy pointed out another colourful bug, watching it with shining eyes and sketching it in her notebook.

“Isn’t it fascinating?” Marcy chirped excitedly. “Most of the fauna here is insect-based, and yet there are so many varying species and sizes! Truly an evolutionary mystery.” Anne hardly noticed the creature or what Marcy had said, her eyes focusing on something else instead.

Marcy always looked so cute when she was studying. Her eyes sparkling with interest, the way her face scrunched when she was drawing something, and how that adorable excited smile never left her face. To Anne, that was all she needed to study out here.

“Come on, Anne!” Marcy’s voice snapped the teen out of her daydream, making her notice that Marcy was starting to walk away. She quickly got up to follow, making sure to keep her eyes on the path ahead since Marcy tended not to.

“Purple is usually such a rare colour to find in fauna, but there’s an abundance of it here in Amphibia.” The raven-haired teen rambled. “I wonder if it’s a difference in their biological makeup that-”

“Marcy! Cliff!”

Anne managed to grab Marcy’s hood just before she took another step, keeping her from walking straight off the edge of a steep, rocky cliff.

“Whoops!” She said, taking a step back and away from the edge. “Guess I still need to watch my step, eh Anna-Banana?” She smiled brightly and turned a different direction, leaving Anne stunned for a moment. She could feel fluttering in her stomach, but she knew she hadn’t eaten anything to cause it. No, these were a different kind of-

“Butterflies!”

The conveniently-timed call from Marcy brought Anne back into focus, turning and heading in the direction of her friend’s voice. Pushing through the undergrowth, she soon found a beautiful sunlit clearing, complete with elegant white flowers and butterflies in every colour of the rainbow. In the middle of them stood Marcy, who seemed to be enjoying the company of one particularly friendly light blue butterfly.

“Hey there, little one.” She spoke softly, watching the butterfly land on her pencil. Anne felt her cheeks flush at the sight, having to take a moment to compose herself before walking over.

“Making friends without me, Mar-Mar?” She joked, folding her arms. Marcy looked up at her with a confused expression, staring blankly until it clicked.

“Oh! You mean the butterfly?” She said at last, pointing at the small creature. “I don’t believe they have the same cognitive understanding of friendship, so perhaps something about me seems beneficial to its’ survival.” Anne raised an eyebrow at Marcy’s response, unable to stifle the chuckle that made its way past her lips.

“I was trying to make a joke.” She told her, poking her side in a playful manner. Marcy squeaked at the poke, jumping slightly and causing the butterfly to fly off. The reaction piqued Anne’s interest, noticing Marcy’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink and picking up on what had happened.

“Hey Marbles,” Anne spoke in a slightly teasing tone, “you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?”

The word alone made Marcy’s face go red. She quickly tried to step back, only to stumble over something hidden in the grass and fall backwards. Anne seized the opportunity and pounced, straddling Marcy’s hips to keep her in place.

“Ahahanne!” Marcy was already giggling as she tried to wriggle out from underneath her friend, but her efforts were in vain. Anne was quick to dig her fingers into Marcy’s sides, earning a squeak and bubbly giggles that rang through the clearing.

“Anne, nohohoho!” She kicked her legs uselessly against the grass as she tried to curl in on herself, but Anne wasn’t letting up. Her fingers danced over Marcy’s sides, moving down to spider against her hips and earning high-pitched squeals. The sound made Anne’s stomach flutter again, amplified by all the actual butterflies that surrounded the two.

“Wow, you’re really ticklish, huh?” She mused, smiling as Marcy tried and failed to push her hands away. Her ears were even turning red at that point, contrasting against her silky black hair that was getting messier by the second. Anne’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, and wanting to hear even more laughter, she snuck her hands under Marcy’s arms.

“EEEHEHEHAHAHA!” Marcy’s shriek of laughter caused the butterflies to back up, the sound echoing through the forest as the teen could do nothing more than submit to her ticklish doom. Anne was grinning almost as much as Marcy was, wiggling her fingers in the sensitive spot and watching Marcy squeal in response. Soon enough, her laughter turned silent as her endurance reached its’ limit, and with that, Anne stopped her tickle attack to allow her friend to breathe.

“You good there, Mar-Mar?” She asked, small chuckles escaping her lips as Marcy caught her breath. The raven-haired teen nodded in response, her face still flushed as she looked up at Anne.

“Heheh, yeah.” She replied. “Got me good, Anna-Banana.” Anne felt her cheeks grow warm at the nickname, looking back at Marcy with a soft smile before she realized she was still sitting on top of her.

“HO-KAY!” She shouted, leaping to her feet as her whole face went red. “We, uh, we should probably get back before Hop Pop gets-huh?” She cut off mid-sentence as something light green caught her eye, and turning to look at it, she was met with one of the butterflies landing on her nose. It was a soft green colour, and it seemed to be looking at her curiously.

“Looks like you made a new friend too, Anne.” Marcy chuckled, getting to her feet. “And lucky, too; the green ones are always hard to spot as they blend in so well with the vegetation.” Anne didn’t say anything in response, staying still as the butterfly studied her for a second longer before it took off and flew away.

“…Huh.” She said at last, watching it go before she turned back to Marcy. “Well, are you ready to head back?” Marcy nodded, giving Anne a soft smile before she suddenly took her hand and started to lead her out of the clearing. The action brought a blush back to Anne’s face, but if Marcy had noticed, she didn’t say anything. She instead chose to talk about the valley’s plant life, rambling all the way back to Wartwood.

#amphibia #amphibia anne #tickle fic #prompted work #anne boonchuy #amphibia marcy #marcy wu #marcanne #annarcy #shy anon writes

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weebswrites · 4 years

Note

How would the demon bros react to an artist MC who secretly sketches them and they find MC’s sketchbook~?

The Demon Bros: Finding MC’s Sketchbook

Lucifer

He goes to your room to check on you and sees your sketchbook lying open on your bed

He doesn’t want to invade your privacy, but he can’t help but take a peek at what it is you’re working on

He’s seen you working hard on something for the past few days and has been curious

He steps towards your bed and looks down at the page

It’s him!

His eyes scan the page, taking in how handsomely you’ve portrayed him, sitting at his desk working

He smiles and flips the pages to see what else you’ve drawn

It’s all him ? Reading, cooking, talking, existing. You’ve captured him in every light

You walk back into your room

“Lucifer!” you gasp, rushing over and shutting the sketchbook, in denial that he saw the pages and pages of himself

“What did you see” you ask him, standing on your tiptoes to try to intimidate him

He debates whether or not to lie, but knows how strongly you value honesty and communication

“I saw a few, but, they’re all incredible, MC. You don’t have to hide them from me”

You blush, “I just didn’t know if you’d think it’s weird that I draw you so much”

He leans down and kisses you, gently, whispering “It’s not weird at all, it’s quite flattering actually” against your lips

You spend the next bit of time going through your sketchbook, showing him the sketches and explaining how he made your heart race

Mammon

You two are chilling in your room on your bed, chatting about this and that

He reaches over to your nightstand and grabs the sketchbook, “Hey, human, what’re you always drawing in here anyways” he asks innocently

“Mammon no!” you try to grab the book from his hands but he’s already opened it

He goes silent, flipping through page after page of sketches and drawings of him, some colored, some not

“Mammon…I can explain…” you whisper, face red with embarrassment

He shakes his head no and continues flipping through each page, the silence in the room making you nervous

After he’s done looking he closes the book, “Mah human~” he says lovingly, and leans over and presses a kiss to your lips

“I shoulda known you were drawing The Great Mammon, what else would you draw?” he teased, kissing you again before returning the sketchbook to your nightstand

You giggle, “Exactly, what else would be so worthy of the pages than you?”

He teases you about it from time to time when he sees you sketching, but you know that seeing page upon page of himself in your sketchbook really struck a chord in his heart (sometimes he poses for you but tries to act like it’s just how he’s naturally sitting, but you both know that’s a lie) (and he looks at you with so much love in his eyes when he knows you’re drawing him, it fills your heart with such a warm feeling)

Leviathan

He’s on his fourth hour of playing through a new game

You normally play with him, but it’s not MPG, so you’re just watching him and refilling the snack bowl for the two of you when it gets empty

One trip back you stop by your room and get your sketchbook and favorite pencil

You drop the snacks beside him and sit on his bed, beginning to sketch the back of his head and body looking at the monitor

He doesn’t notice at first, but during a scene change when the screen goes black he sees you sketching, glancing up at him from time to time

“MC, what are you drawing?” he asks

“Uhh…nothing really” you stammer, hoping he didn’t catch on to your obvious lie

He does, of course, and pauses his game to come look

You try to hide your page, but don’t stop him when he sits next to you and lifts it from your arms

“Babe…” he whispers, admiring the work you’d done in such a short time, before flipping a page back and seeing another sketch of him

“I just…you’re my everything, Levi, and sometimes I see you and I just, have to capture the moment” you explain

“These are incredible, why haven’t you shown me sooner?” he asks, flipping through page after page of your work

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, thinking I was always trying to draw you

“I appreciate that,” he says, stopping on a page to admire a drawing from a few weeks ago of him reading a manga, “You have so much talent”

He showers you in compliments and after a brief kiss, goes back to his game, resuming the same position he was in earlier so you could finish your drawing

Satan

You were in the library on the couch, he was rereading a favorite book and you were sketching

You sat on either end of the couch, facing each other with your legs intertwined

You’d been working on sketching your view of this for about an hour, and were proud of how well it was going

Suddenly, Satan closes his book at you and meets your eyes as they were studying his face

“Can I ask what you’re studying my face so intently for?” he asks bluntly, never holding back any punches

And you didn’t either, “I’m…drawing us. And I want to capture your face as accurately as possible” you explain

He holds his hand out for you to hand over the sketchbook, and you do after a quick glance down to look at your work

He studies your drawing before flipping to the beginning and looking through each page, admiring each one

You watched as his eyes took in every inch of every page

“Satan?” you ask, wanting to hear his thoughts

“MC, I had no idea you had so much talent�� he whispered, taking minutes on each page, sincerely admiring the time and effort you’d put into each drawing

“I hope it’s okay I draw you a lot, you’re always on my mind and I want to capture every moment we have together”

“It’s perfectly, kitten” he reassures you, a light blush crossing his face as he reached the piece you were working on currently again, scanning it before handing you back your sketchbook

“Show me your work more often, it’s beautiful”

You smile, falling even more in love with him than you thought was humanly (or demonly) possible

“I will”

Asmodeus

You’re a bit tipsy, whoops

“What are you always drawing in that sketchbook of yours, anyways” he teases, poking your shoulder

“Nothinggg” you defend yourself

“Then show me if it’s nothing” he smirks, getting off your bed and walking to your desk, flipping open your sketchbook to a random page

The random page happened to be a page with a drawing of him, sitting at his desk and applying a face cream

“Honey…is this a drawing of me?” he asks, voice soft

“Yeah” you say, getting up and walking over to him, wrapping an arm around his waist

“They’re all of you” you explain, scanning through the pages with your thumb

He takes a bit to flip through the pages slower, appreciating each drawing for a moment before moving to the next

After he’s done he closes the book and turns to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips

“Seeing myself from your eyes…it was amazing” he whispered, pulling away, “Your art is amazing”

“Thanks, Asmo” you say, smiling and kissing him again

He absolutely makes you draw him posing now, he’ll sit in any pose he can think of, in all sorts of cute or seductive outfits, letting you draw him for hours and hours

Sometimes he’ll wear an outfit, and well, the drawing doesn’t last long lol

Beelzebub

He doesn’t want to pry at what you’re doing, but you can tell by the way his eyes linger whenever you’re drawing that he’s curious

After you get a good portion of the way done with your current drawing, you scoot next to him

(You’re in the kitchen, because duh)

“Beel, can I show you what I’ve been working on?”

“Of course, my love”

You turn the sketchbook from your chest to his eyes, handing it to him

He takes it, carefully admiring the most recent few pages

His heart is beating fast, the fact that you saw him and wanted to draw him made him so soft

“MC…” he whispers

“Beel?”

“These are so good, your talent is undeniable” he praises you

“Thank you” you reply, heart warmed by his kind words

“You…always draw me. Why?” he asks

“You always stick out to me, love. You’re handsome and strong and the love of my life. Sometimes I get hit with a wave of appreciation for you and want to capture the moment” you explain

He smiles, blushing more before leaning in and kissing you

After a few kisses you two pull away, resting your foreheads together

“I love you, Beel”

“I love you too, MC”

Belphegor

You keep it Very on the down low when you’re drawing him

You know he doesn’t like attention on him, even when it’s from you, and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable

One day he catches you

The two of you are in his room, he’s reading something on his phone and you’re sketching

You always told him it was for your art class, which was sometimes true, at least

“MC, can I see what you’re working on” he asks

You hesitate for a moment, “Belphie, I’m…I’m drawing you” you confess, lowering your head a bit

He just looks at you, “Oh…”

“If it makes you uncomfortable I’ll stop, it’s just sometimes you look so peaceful I want to capture it forever” you ramble

“Hey, MC, it’s okay. I trust you” he says, holding out his hand for you to give him the sketchbook

You do so, and study his face intently as he flips through the pages

He stops at one, and you glance to see which one it is

It’s one from a few weeks ago, he was mid-nap, hair messy and face perfectly calm

“You’re so talented” he commented, “this one in particular, the level of detail is impressive”

“Thanks” you say, letting out a sigh of relief and laughing a bit

“You should show me more often, I’d love to see more of your work. Even if it’s just drawings of me” he teases lightly

You smile, nodding, “Yeah, I will”

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

A/N: wow I’m not doing too hot on posting every day am I lol, but I’ve gotten some really fun requests (like this one !! thank u anon I loved writing this so much) and they’re keeping me motivated

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcannon #obey me headcannons #obey me reader insert #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me x reader

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sqenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Title: Blackout

Summary: When he opens the book, the spine cracks faintly. He smiles. He reads out loud, it’s easier to get through when the words roll off his tongue instead of bouncing about in his head. “Dorothy lived in the great Kansas prairies-” thunder rolls loudly outside. The lights flicker. Then, the room is cast into darkness.

Notes: just something short and sweet! I decided to post it directly here rather than ao3

Mr. Benedict’s house is old and creaky, a breeze blows through imperceptible gaps and the heating is broken, which makes the third floor warm at all times. It’s warm now, as SQ curls up in his bed. He props a book up in his lap, it had been a birthday gift from his uncle. The Wizard of Oz. The cover depicted a young girl standing at the edge of a road of yellow brick, a little dog stands beside her. On the other side of the road is a Lion, a Scarecrow, and a Tinman with an axe resting on his shoulder. SQ turns the knob on the bedside lamp and casts the room in a soft, orange glow. It’s late out, a storm blows outside. There’s no rain, oddly enough. A dry thunderstorm, that’s what Sticky had said. Every now and then thunder rolls through and startles him. He’s trying to ignore it. He opens the book. The print, mercifully, is a decent size. And the font is ‘dyslexia friendly’ as his uncle had put it. That had been a recent, and mildly unsurprising discovery. It’s an old, well-loved book, presumably his uncle had either owned it previously or bought it second hand. His father would have bought a newer book, something untouched by the outside world. He likes this more. It feels personal. Loving. Love is imbued in every little thing about his uncle, and everything he does for his family. When he opens the book, the spine cracks faintly. He smiles. He reads out loud, it’s easier to get through when the words roll off his tongue instead of bouncing about in his head.

“Dorothy lived in the great Kansas prairies-” thunder rolls loudly outside. The lights flicker. Then, the room is cast into darkness. SQ’s blood rushes to his ears, a whimper rises and dies in his throat. He blinks hard, trying to adjust to the sudden darkness. He can hear the sound of other kids yelling out in the darkness for the adults and Sticky yelping two doors down. SQ squints, moonlight is pouring into the room now, his eyes are adjusting. He closes the book and sets it aside, then he kicks his legs over the side of the bed and slides down to the floor. His toes dig into the carpet, the fabric is soft and textured in a way that doesn’t make his teeth hurt like other carpet does. He pads out of the room into the hall. It’s just as dark in here as it is in his room. A beam of light comes down the hall and flashes into his eyes. He groans and holds his arm up to shield himself.

“Whoops, sorry,” Kate says, then directs the flashlight down. The light illuminates the hallway in a ghostly way. Kate’s face is lit from below, creating sharp shadows along the soft edges of her face. She’s smiling, seemingly undisturbed by the sudden darkness. She darts forward and grabs his hand, excited about something. She’s always excited about something. “Hey, come check this out.” she leads him down the dark hallway, flashlight beam directing them forward to the end of the hall, down the stairs, and finally to the backdoor. Outside in the backyard, it seems everyone is gathered. The adults and kids are all gathered outside around the firepit that sits near the back porch. Kate leads him outside and down the steps. Then, she climbs into the tree and hauls him up after her. The bark hurts his feet a bit, but he bears it because Kate seems rather excited. They both settle on a sturdy branch. She points over the fence. It takes SQ a moment to realize what she was pointing at. Then, he realizes the skyline of Stonetown is an entirely dark. There isn’t a single streetlight on or window illuminated by a yellow glow. It’s a blackout. SQ’s eyes widen slightly.

“Woah…” He can see Kate grinning in the corner of his eye. She’s kicking her legs and bouncing slightly. SQ crosses his legs and looks out over the skyline. He can hear car horns honking in the distance.

“This is much nicer than the last blackout I was in.”

“The last blackout?”

“Yeah, not long before the prison. We lost Constance and had to go looking for her.”

SQ’s stomach turns slightly. Right, they had been looking for Constance, hoping to find her before his father’s men did. Kate hummed and started climbing down from the tree. “C’mon,” she said “Milligan’s gonna get a fire started, we’re gonna make s’mores!”

“S’mores?”

“Yeah, haven’t you ever had one?” SQ shakes his head and Kate’s mouth drops open. She looks shocked, as though he’d just committed some grievous wrong. “Well we gotta fix that! Come on, come on!” She grabs his hand and starts hauling him down from the tree. He goes gladly. The grass under his feet is cool and already becoming wet with dew. Mid to late September is his favourite time of year. Cold in the morning, hot in the afternoon, and dropping temperatures again in the evening. He shivers slightly against the breeze. He’s still shivering when he sits in front of the now burning fire. He feels a soft fabric against his shoulder and looks away from the light of the fire as Milligan sits beside him. Milligan's jacket is draped around his shoulders.

He says nothing, just smiles. SQ smiles back. The jacket is warm around him, like a blanket fresh from the dryer. He slips his arms through the sleeves. It’s way too big on him. It makes him feels small, but not small in the shameful way his father made him feel. It feels more like everything had been contained in one small space, including himself. It feels safe. He likes it.

“Kate told me you’ve never had a s’more.” Milligan says, looking over at him. He has a good-natured smile on his face, “she sounded horrified at the thought.”

“It seems there’s a lot of stuff I haven’t experienced that she has.” SQ says, it comes out in a half mumble. He hears Milligan let out a laugh that’s more of an exhale of breath and a hum of amusement. SQ turns to get a good look at him. He’s still in a coat, which means that he had purposefully brought one out for SQ. Milligan is sitting on one of the little logs-turned-chairs next to him, resting his arms on his legs, hands laced together.

“Well,” he says after a moment “you can hardly hold that against yourself, Kate travelled around quite a bit and experienced a lot during her years in the circus.” He supposes that’s fair. But it’s not like this something new and exciting to the others. It’s just a s’more. Something most children are familiar with and have had on several occasions. He can’t help a small pang of loss. Loss for what, he isn’t sure. Perhaps for the child he could have been had he not grown up on the island. It hit him, sometimes, that he would never get those years back. His father had stolen from him what could have been a wonderful childhood, and no matter how he wished he to do so, he could not go back in time and fix things. He was stuck in this time, there was no way to go back. Time’s arrow stops for no one. The best he could hope for was to find solace in the family and friends he had in the present. He pulls the jacket tighter around himself, trying to fight off those thoughts before they have the chance to overwhelm him. He takes a deep breath and exhales.

“I guess so,” he says at last. He watches the fire. It flickers, breaks apart and comes together again. It crackles softly, embers rise into the air and fall down into the grass, making him mildly anxious. He’s heard the embers are part of the charm of a summer fire. He doesn’t quite see it, but the fire is nice and warm. Something is held out in front of him, drawing his attention away from the fire. After a moment he realizes it’s a long, metal stick with two prongs at one end, and a rubber handle on the other. He turns to look at who’s holding it out and sees Kate, giving him her usual excited grin.

“Wanna watch me set a marshmallow on fire?” she asks. He can’t possibly say no. He nods and she grabs the bag of marshmallows sitting beside her. She pierces two of the marshmallows onto the prongs at the end of the metal stick, then she holds them over the fire. At first, he doesn’t see it. But then there’s a small, subtle change amongst the flames surrounding the marshmallows, and when Kate pulls them away, they’re on fire. She holds it much too close for comfort. She lets the marshmallows burn for a moment before she takes a deep breath and blows them out. SQ blinks as she looks back to him, grinning. “Pretty cool, huh?” He nods, for lack of anything else to say.

She turns away from him and he can see her putting something together, though he isn’t sure what it is. He gets his answer a moment later when she turns back, and holds something out to him. A marshmallow and a small piece of chocolate are squished between two graham crackers. He tilts his head at it. “It’s a s’more,” she says “try it! It’s good!” He takes it, trying to avoid marshmallow dripping onto his shirt, and takes a bite. When he bites into it the marshmallow spills out and onto his fingers, making them sticky. But he finds he doesn’t care. Because Kate was right, it’s good. Really good. His eyes widen slightly, he smiles at her. “Right?” She says, somehow understanding what he’s trying to convey without any words. He decides he likes s’mores.

#mbs #tmbs #kate wetherall #milligan wetherall #sq pedalian #sq curtain #the mysterious benedict society #mysterious benedict society

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kotosnoozy · 3 years

Text

「fourteen」 chapter 1

"Yuri did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed. I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” Hanks says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.” “O-oh?” Estelle stammers. “Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

On the nature of Yuri's first crush.

He hadn’t thought much of it at first.

Hanks’s fond babbling about Yuri over their extremely well-earned dinner is incredibly revealing about the usually cool-headed leader of their motley crew. The old man proves himself a riveting story-teller, keeping their entire party entertained for hours on end despite the incredibly long and taxing 48 sleepless hours they’ve had.

(‘Though there was almost a permanent sleep in there for some of us,’ Raven finds himself thinking morbidly, before digging his bitten-down nails as deep into his ankles as he can to distract himself)

It feels like the only time any of them stop smiling and laughing is to take another mouthful from their bowls of curry, piled high from the seemingly endless and eternal pots of the stuff in the knight’s mess hall (or in Rita’s case, to test out another formula against the system Alexei’s locked the princess into - luckless so far, but she’s yet to lose determination).

Hanks has provided all sorts of anecdotes: the adventures of a baby Yuri who had just learned to walk, quicker to his feet than Flynn but still only babbling in response to the younger’s full fledged scolding - their dynamic had formed incredibly early on, it seemed; fond recollections of helping him to learn to bind properly, their first real bonding experience that had endeared them to each other as adoptive-grandfather-and-grandson; prideful recounts of Yuri’s development from childhood cynophobia into a renowned dog-lover, of all the other little things Yuri had been scared of as a child and grown out of in time (and those he hadn’t - Raven makes a few mental notes for later reference); all the fights Yuri and Flynn had gotten into over the years, and the brief interlude where they had dated in their teens (‘If anything,’ he laughs, ‘the bickering became even more frequent at that point - thank heavens they didn’t last!’); and of course, everyone’s old favourite - that one time 2 years ago when he’d thrown Adecor into the river on tax day.

Raven’s heard that one on a number of occasions from all four of the people who’d been present when it occurred - it somehow never gets any less funny.

While most of Brave Vesperia and it's honorary members are thrilled to learn more about their favourite rebel, Yuri himself is less than happy about Hanks laying out his life story for everyone to see. It's plain on his face - the grimace of a man who appreciates how much his parents love him but would really prefer they didn't tell his date about the time he streaked naked through the town and peed in a fountain at 5 years old. His embarrassment is palpable, a pink glow to his ears that slowly spreads to his cheeks the longer and more intimate Hanks’ stories become.

It’s as he brings up Yuri’s childhood dream of joining the knights so he could sweep a princess off her feet, pointedly winking in Estelle’s direction, that their so-called fearless leader bolts to his feet. He spins on his heel, making a beeline to the other side of the room, and plonks himself violently between a bewildered Adecor and Boccos, immediately thrown from their confusion into annoyance as Yuri’s food slops all over both of them.

His previous dining companions merely snicker in his wake, Hanks chuckling fondly.

“He’s always been so easily riled, that boy. If this is how flustered he gets over just you lot hearing all this then I can’t even imagine how he’ll be when he finally shacks up with someone.’

“Wait, but didn’t you say he dated Flynn when they were younger?” Karol asks, head cocking to one side.

“Well between you, me and our gatepost friends here,” the old man says, leaning in - they all follow suit, as Hanks’ eyes pointedly glance over to Flynn, “I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings if he hasn’t realised, but I always got the impression that Yuri was far less invested in their relationship than Flynn. It was Flynn who asked him out, after all.”

“My, that does surprise me. Yuri’s always seemed like he’d be the more proactive of the two when it comes to romance.” Judy muses.

Hanks raises his eyebrows, thin lips twisting into an uneasy frown.

“Wait a minute,” Rita says, leaning even further forward. “You’re not saying Yuri never had feelings for him are you?”

He winces, gaze averting. Raven feels his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“They’ve always loved each other, of course. But the tone of that love seems to differ between them. Their relationship was what happened when they tried to figure that out, it seems, but ultimately…”

“They just weren’t compatible as partners of that type?”

“Right.” he nods to Estelle. “In all honesty, Yuri might give off the air of someone with considerable relationship experience, but it’s Flynn who attracts more attention. And seems more interested in others in turn.”

Raven finds his gaze wandering between the two in question - Flynn has managed to find himself eating amidst a small crowd, knights and lower quarter folks alike, all of them doting on him and telling him stories, and him listening attentively to each of them in turn. Yuri, meanwhile is… wrestling with all three of the ex-Schwann Brigade’s most prominent knights simultaneously. Astounding.

“Yeah that tracks.” he finds himself murmuring, nails scratching through the chest hair that rises above the collar of his shirt. Even if Flynn wasn’t the most eager to please others between the two, the young man radiates a natural charm that draws others to him like a moth to a flame - it’s hard to forget how he was upstaged the time he took him drinking in Dahngrest. Yuri, meanwhile, has a proclivity for trouble and a tendency to stick his foot in his mouth with his wit. While endearing, he can’t imagine it’s the most efficient for pursuing new connections - even if he’s managed to attract all of the motley crew Raven’s currently sat with.

“So Flynn’s a secret ladies’ man and Yuri, despite all the pomp and swagger, has absolutely no game?” Rita snickers, casting a wry look across the room at Yuri that he’s too distracted to notice.

“Well I don’t know about that. Flynn’s a man’s man if nothing else, never shown interest in women to my knowledge. But… I don’t think Yuri’s ever actually been interested in dating , full stop.”

“No way, really?!” Karol barks. The exclamation draws the attention of the groups sat closest to them, even Flynn, momentarily, before they go busily back to their meals. Flynn’s expression as he looks at them is pondering, almost puppy-like, and Karol’s panic is practically visible as they watch him seemingly wrestle with whether to come over and see what the fuss is about. Then the woman at his side taps a hand to his elbow gently, and his manners win out - she successfully steals his attention back around, all of his interest in their discussion completely forgotten.

“Well. It certainly seems that way anyway. I remember him asking me, back when they dated, how he would know if his feelings for someone were romantic. He didn’t seem to understand my answer very well."

“That’s unexpected. I suppose my advances have all been vain!” Patty whines. Raven finds himself snickering - whether Patty’s affections are genuine or not is one mystery he's yet to solve, but her playing it up is never any less entertaining or fun to tease.

“Though now that I think about it… he did confess to me about one crush. First one he ever had, I’d wager, from how nervous he seemed.”

Patty surges forward onto her hands and knees, scrambling to get in Hanks’ face. Surprisingly, he’s not that caught off guard - perhaps used to it from Yuri’s exuberance as a child, or that other kid from the lower quarter who’s off chasing Repede on the far side of the room.

“I need all the details, matey! Don’t spare a single one!”

Hanks chuckles.

“I’m very sorry young lady, but he didn’t tell me all that much! I had expected it to be Lady Estellise here,” he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously as she flusters, “but the one detail he did give me certainly ruled that out quick.”

“O-oh?” Estelle stammers.

“Mmm, well. Apparently whoever they are, they’re significantly older than him. About 14 years, I think he said.”

“My my! That’s quite the considerable age gap.” Judy coos, tone teasing in spite of Yuri’s absence. She turns over to look at him, sitting atop a pile of knights and triumphantly tucking into a second of four bowls (spoils of war, Raven would wager) - they all do, in fact.

“Kid’s got taste at least. Nothin’ quite like the mature allure of an older lady~'' Raven sing-songs, half-joking. Rita jabs him in the side harshly.

“Shut up old man-- you said you thought it was Estelle he had a crush on right? So are you saying this is recent? ”

It’s like a switch flips in all of their heads simultaneously. Faces filled with shock whip to look at Hanks, who sits sheepishly clutching his bowl.

“Whoops. Might’ve let a little too much information slip on that one. I was probably meant to keep that detail private…”

“Oh my go--”

Rita slaps a hand over Karol’s mouth before his shriek draws too many eyes over. They all meet each other's' gaze one by one - Yuri's crushing on someone for the first time ever at this exact moment - before turning to look back at Yuri again. He’s mid-mouthful, spoon clutched in his hand like a shovel and sauce dripping down his chin, as he turns to survey his surroundings and catches their eyes.

“What?” he chokes out around his mouthful, just audible over the bustle of the rest of the room. He must see the sheer shock on their faces, as concern starts to cross his face and his gaze wanders to Hanks. “Wait, what did you tell them, old man?”

Hanks chooses that exact moment to get up, incredibly swiftly for a man his age.

“Well, thank you all for keeping me company, kids, but I must be off to… check on other people in… other parts of the castle. Right. Goodbye.”

The speed at which he heads for the door is quite remarkable - Yuri barely manages to scramble off his knight-pile-cum-throne before he’s gone from sight, and presumably halfway down the corridor before Yuri makes it out of the room after him.

It’s a shock, that much is certain. Raven hadn’t thought Yuri would be interested in older women - or people he supposes, he’s never really shown any inclination to anyone before in a romantic sense, so certainly not any specific gender. He’d never much struck him as the type.

But then he hadn’t struck him as the type to be interested in any type of relationship until this curveball of a conversation had come along. So hey, why not. If Yuri was into older people, he certainly wasn’t intending to torment him about it. Other than maybe one opportunely timed quip.

Honestly, he really hadn’t thought much about it at first.

But then the kids throw their own curveball.

“I can’t believe Yuri likes someone so much older than him!! Like, I guess I get the appeal of someone a little older than you for like… security or something, I dunno. But man, 14 years!!” Karol exclaims, as quietly as he can for his excitement. “I wonder if we know who it is.”

Rita barks a laugh, catching a distracted Patty off-guard. She begins anew whatever calculations she’d been making on her fingers as Rita shrugs exaggeratedly.

“I bet it’s some big-boobed motherly-figure in the lower quarter or something.”

“Well if all he wanted was big boobs and a nurturing personality then I’ve been here this whole time, all he had to do was ask!” Judith sighs, sly smirk giving away her lack of sincerity.

“Hey,” Patty pipes up suddenly, drawing their attention. “Isn’t Raven about 14 years older than Yuri?”

He feels the cogs in his brain whirr to a stop.

Suddenly, he is thinking very much about it.

“Oh yeah!” he hears Karol chirp. No doubt he checks the calculations on his own fingers, but Raven doesn’t register it if so, hard as he’s trying just to think at all. “Haha, that’s a weird coincidence!”

Estelle giggles.

“Imagine if it was Raven he had a thing for!”

He feels their eyes on him instantly, but it takes a moment for his brain to catch up. His own eyes must be wide as saucers, as they look at him, the mirth starting to fall from Estelle’s expression - he forces a ridiculous grin to his face.

“Haha, yeah imagine that! Someone like Yuri fallin’ for a washed up old fart like me!” he cackles, voice strained even to his own ears. “That’d be ridiculous!!”

The kids buy it though, Karol laughing along before pulling the others back into their debate about exactly who the mystery object of Yuri’s affections could be. It’s Estelle whose gaze lingers on him, just a moment or two longer, as the facade starts to crack, but she must see it - the silent plea in his eyes - as she turns back to the others not a moment later.

If anyone notices that Raven is mentally tapped out until they all go their separate ways for the night, then they’re at least polite enough not to mention it.

⇷-------------

Raven is a strange one.

This is Yuri’s third time meeting the man (or fourth, if the time Rita threatened to set him alight in Capua Torim counts as an actual encounter) and in all honesty, it’s hard to get a read on him past him being very obviously shady.

He seems as though he might be someone of consequence, if the quality of information he so casually throws like bones to random guards is actually as quality as he would have them believe. Either way he’s certainly silver-tongued, plying the others in Yuri’s makeshift travelling party into submission fairly easily despite their initial apprehension about him. Karol and Estelle are charmed by him, by his goofy antics if not the lolloping drawl of his accent, though they make no effort to hide the fact that they find him fishy. While Rita is far less taken, she seems to be placated by him taking her punishments, both fire and fists, like a champ.

The charm isn’t exactly visible to the naked eye though. He skulks at the back of the group, heavy footed and posture slouched. His clothes all seem far too big for him, obscuring the shape of his body in a way Yuri supposes is meant to make him seem unassuming, and he’s already displayed a number of habits that he knows would make any upper quarter noble’s toes curl - picking at his ears and the skin around his nails, before chewing at the nails themselves.

He has to admit though, he’s quite handsome in the face beneath the mess of dusty brown hair. Not in the same way as Flynn, with his big blue eyes and tousled blonde hair, the very picture of a storybook knight. His crooked nose, chapped lips, stubbly chin and hollow cheeks certainly make for a more unconventional type of attractive, but they all come together to create a certain appeal. The brightness of his eyes certainly helps too.

Also the combat prowess. Fighting ability is always an attractive quality in Yuri’s opinion, but especially in a travelling companion.

For a self-professed old man, Raven’s far more nimble than Yuri had expected. Sure, he’d made quite the getaway back in Capua Nor after he’d sold them out, but he’d assumed that’d been a one-off desperate sprint, not the norm. Apparently he was wrong, based on the nimble footwork he employs to dart out of the way of a particularly feisty howler. It doesn’t escape his notice how Karol nearly falls flat on his ass when Raven rushes past him and twists himself at an insane angle to fire an arrow across the way, skewering a beetle between its mandibles before it can take a bite out of Estelle.

“Woah, Raven!! Yuri, you’ve got some serious competition for your acrobatics now!!”

The bark of laughter leaves his throat unwittingly.

“I didn’t realise there even was a competition!”

He sees Rita roll her eyes as she releases a torrent of water behind her, clearly disbelieving him and with good reason; he’s never been one to back down from a potential competition. He breaks away from the corner of the forest floor he’s been holding down, using the momentum to propel himself up and over Raven, carrying it into his sword as he flips to crash it down into the skull of another monster. Raven whistles appreciatively as it disappears into dust.

“Not bad, young ‘un!”

He throws a smirk over his shoulder, ego swelling at the genuine awe on Raven’s face.

“How’s about it, old man? First to twenty?”

The awe transforms into a grimace in an instant.

“Ahhh, I dunno about that. Ol’ Raven’s never really been one for competitions, let alone effort. ”

He scoffs.

“Oh, come on. We’ve got no choice but to fight to get deeper into the forest anyway, right? So why not make a game of it? Not like it’ll actually be any more effort than you were already putting in.”

Raven purses his lips, seemingly unconvinced. His eyes narrow slightly as he stares off, deep in thought, the blue-green seemingly increasing in intensity. For all he’s been putting on the act of a court jester, Yuri is certain in that moment that there’s a deep intelligence to the older man; something unspoken, a wisdom beyond his years.

(Not that he knows how old Raven is but. Well, he gets the feeling that while he’s certainly older than he and his travelling companions, he’s not actually pushing middle-aged yet like he makes out)

Fwip!

He comes back to himself to see Raven’s face closer than before, upside down, chin in line with his collarbone. His bow arm (and subsequently the bow itself) is extended past his shoulder, the other loose by his head having just fired. Behind him there’s a thunk. A screech. A pop. And then silence.

“Looks like that’s one ta me~” Raven coos, eyes hooded as he smirks. He rolls his back, lithe and catlike, to stand himself back upright, stretching his arms out until his shoulders crack. For all his complaining about aches and pains so far (extremely numerous for the time they’ve been travelling with him, maybe an hour at most), he certainly doesn’t move as though he has any joint issues.

Despite his shock, he finds himself laughing.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s just as charmed by Raven as the kids are. He’s never made a connection quite like this one; with someone who can go toe to toe with his dry wit, and make it out the other side without being angry with him. Rita had been the closest (since Niren at least, but Yuri prefers to avoid thinking about the only father he ever knew if he can). But while Rita’s great with a back and forth, she’s easily riled, easily flustered. It only takes one slightly wrong jab and she gets stroppy, or else loses all interest in the situation.

Raven, for all his strangeness, has so far matched Yuri every step of the way. They’ve fallen so easily into a steady banter, something of their own personal comedy routine for just the two of them, some form of it present even from their first encounter way back in that jail cell. To have someone who can appreciate his snark, and give it back just as good while they both know it’s all in good fun? He’d never realised just how much he’d appreciate a relationship like that.

So yeah, Raven’s a little suspicious. But as far as Yuri’s concerned, he’s willing to offer him the benefit of the doubt for the strange comfort he gets from their repartee, just so long as he doesn’t do anything too crazy.

He slaps Raven on the shoulder, moving past him to continue deeper into the oversized brush.

“You got me, old man. But don’t you worry, you won’t be holding that lead for long.”

Raven merely cackles in response, wordlessly filing in behind him.

-------------⇸

There’s only one real constant within their travelling party, and that’s that the sleeping arrangements are ever-changing.

It takes a little while for him to notice, though in his defence the first week or so he’s with them is certainly not a typical week. In the more recent days, they’d gotten lucky with inns having enough beds for all of them, but the first few nights had been entirely sleepless in the hustle and bustle of, y’know, stopping a war, taking down the Blood Alliance and colliding with an actual genuine-article ghost ship.

(He’s still not sure what that was all about if he’s being entirely honest, but he’s old and ““wise”” enough by now that he knows there are some things in this world that you simply shouldn’t question)

So it’s Nordopolica where he finds himself bedding down with his new companions for the first time. The constant hustle and bustle of Palestralle’s workers and the fresh colosseum season unfortunately means there isn’t much free in terms of rooms. On the plus side, the three double beds they’re provided are plenty enough space for them all to be able to sleep comfortably; Fomalhaut’s rooms are quite spacious, nothing at all like the army barracks of his youth (though he supposes that should be expected from a city that considers itself something of an entertainment hub).

Raven takes his time ambling in behind everyone else, absently watching how effortlessly Repede transfers his pipe from one side of his toothy maw to the other. Rushing would be pointless, in his opinion, because he can already envision how everyone will double-up. Rita is sure to claim a spot beside the princess, for whose sake she could not be more clearly continuing to travel for despite her protests, and Judy won’t want to get lumped with a snotty (though admittedly quite sweet) brat or some dirty old man she hardly knows - he’s gonna get stuck with the kid, and the two of them can have a very one-sided competition over whose shitty little brain can give them the most nightmares in one night, and Raven will be perfectly content with that, thank you very much.

(It’ll be him who wins that one - hormone-induced nightmares are nothing compared to the horrors your brain can produce when you have blood and a war on your hands)

And then Karol throws him for a loop by tossing his bag semi-gently to the floor before diving into bed after Rita , of all people.

She hardly even makes a fuss. There’s a yelp - what sounds like it could be the start of the protest Raven would expect from such a combination - before she settles almost immediately.

“Just make sure you don’t kick me awake again, got it?” she barks pointedly at him, before rolling to face away from him and promptly cocooning herself in the blanket. He laughs at her, kicking off his shoes and fluffing up his pillow, seemingly content.

Wide-eyed, Raven turns to the girls - surely he can’t be the only one caught off-guard by this, it seems unthinkable for Rita not to put up a fight to sharing with Karol , and there’s an exclamation of surprise right on the tip of his tongue - only to find them claiming the second bed for themselves, Judy helping Estelle to unfasten the complicated buckles of her dress. He bites his words back, head whipping away; much as the image of a pervert works as a brilliant cover to convince the kids of his idiocy, peeping on the possible-crown princess as she gets changed is certainly not a thing he’s ever aspired to.

And so he comes face to face with the final bed. His bed he supposes, strange as it may still be to him. Yuri’s already making himself comfy on the left side, shirt and jacket thrown over the bottom edge of the bed frame. He stretches his arms up and over his head, muscles rippling as he yawns. He catches Raven’s eye as they fall back down, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes.

“Looks like it’s you and me, old man.” he says, patting the sheets next to him with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

He can feel his own lips quirk to mirror Yuri’s, even as he fights to push down the instinctive panic.

“And here I was hopin’ ta share with my darlin’ Judy!” he whines playfully, flopping down beside him face first in a show of dramatism.

“Sorry, Raven. I just couldn’t miss the chance to cuddle up with Estelle!” comes her voice, sing-songy, from the bed she’s claimed. He can see, as he pushes himself up onto his hands and knees to get better situated, that she’s doing exactly that. She’s practically spooning the princess, face buried in short pink locks, and Estelle herself looks the very picture of a tomato (not that he wouldn’t himself with Judith’s considerable… assets pressed against him).

“Well so long as yer not a cuddler yerself, Mr Lowell.” he jokes, rearranging himself onto his back before pulling the duvet up to his chin. For all that they’re in less than ideal circumstances with sharing beds, he’s glad to see Palestralle don’t skimp on the furnishings for their inns - the linen is incredibly soft, smooth against the pads of his fingers, and it’s a smart fabric choice for an inn in so changeable a climate.

Yuri huffs a laugh.

“I think I can hold myself back this once, just for you.” he says, tone laden with sarcasm. He watches Raven with keen eyes as he lounges on his side, head resting in his hand. Raven wonders how he can sleep like that - how his arm doesn’t cramp in the night, doesn’t wake him up in a fit of panic when he can’t move it, breathing shallow until the blood flow returns. He forgets, sometimes, that not everyone enters a blind panic over the little things.

“Why, I'm honoured! Yer benevolence knows no bounds!" he coos back, nose scrunching in amusement. Yuri smiles as he reaches back and pats Repede where he stands by the bed - a silent request to turn off the overhead light. The pooch complies, trotting off with a clack of his pipe between his teeth - Raven’s constantly caught off guard by the dog’s intelligence, the number of strange things Yuri’s managed to teach him (or perhaps that the dog has taught himself? He’s still not fully certain how much of a hand in training him that the young man’s had), and this is certainly another for the list.

“Damn right it doesn’t. Better make sure you show me the respect I deserve.” he says. He meets his eyes again as the blastia clicks off, dousing them in darkness. They crinkle with mirth, the abyss within softening even more as Karol giggles at their antics on the other side of the room.

They find themselves in a staring contest, of sorts. Or maybe closer to a game of chicken? He’s sure Yuri sees it that way at least, if his unblinking gaze is anything to go by. For him on the other hand it’s… something else. What exactly he can’t say. He’s just... transfixed .

Because Yuri’s plenty handsome on his own - perhaps even beautiful, if that’s more your thing. Raven’s already seen him turn a great many heads in the short time they’ve been together, including both the illustrious head of Fortune’s Market and the great forgotten war hero himself. Maybe he’d even let himself cast an admiring glance his way, if he hadn’t picked specifically womaniser for Raven’s bullshit cover-up trait.

But when the sea-breeze blows gently, kicking up the curtains, and the moonlight shines into the room, it catches him just so. The glow is ethereal, transformative, and it brings out the hidden flecks of golden brown in the depths of Yuri’s eyes, spins the silk of his dark hair almost chestnut. And just for a moment, he can trick himself into believing she’s here, the Canary herself, laid opposite him with a fond teasing smile, and oh god the hole where his heart used to be aches to reach out and touch her--

But for all her perfections, Casey’s eyes had never glowed quite like that had they? Never stared directly into his soul, made him almost want to bury into her arms and let her shoulder his every burden for him. Her kindness had inspired, but never been so bottomless that he wanted to abuse it, had never come off her in waves to the point it was visible in every little line of her face despite any grandstanding. Never so gentle to the broken that he could almost convince himself that he doesn’t need to run, that if he’s seen he’ll be accepted wholly, flaws and sins and all.

Not like Yuri. Not at all like Yuri.

The curtain drops, or else the clouds must roll in overhead. Either way, the moonlight vanishes, and with it goes the last vestiges of the illusion.

“Aye-aye, sir.” he all but murmurs, his voice tighter than just moments ago. He hopes, as Yuri’s face twists in concern, that his own face doesn’t give away the turmoil of his heart.

“You alright, old man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Hah, maybe I have!” he laughs, but it sounds notably hollow even to him. Still, he doesn’t break eye-contact as Yuri seems to peer directly into him, seemingly scanning his every thought and feeling, hope and dream.

The last thing he sees as he slips into sleep is the gentle embrace of the abyss. While his dreams are plagued by nightmares, a broken body bleeding out in the sand, he finds it’s the best night’s sleep he’s had in years.

-------------⇸

The town is silent, other than the gentle rustle of the sea breeze through the trees and the crunch of the dirt path beneath his feet.

They’ve been here all day, but Yuri’s not sure he’s used to how incredibly peaceful Yormgen is yet. He’s not sure he ever will be, either. He’s used to the bustle of the city, the shouting of vendors and newsies in Zaphias’s main market as carts laden with goods and people roll by. It feels like there’s always a dog barking, a clock chiming, a baby crying in the city, and the background noise helps him to switch his brain off in a way that the country never can.

Halure had been quiet to him - the calm atmosphere of the day, the slowness of shop transactions and conversation, had already been a lot, but for there to be a perfect stillness as night fell rather than an increase in bustle as drinkers started to take to the town had been the real whiplash. Despite a relatively large population, the town didn’t have a single dedicated bar to its name, and it’d thrown Yuri for far more of a loop than he’d ever expected.

Yormgen is even stranger. There must be all of fourteen people in this entire town, he thinks, and every single one of them vanished into their houses the moment the sun started to set. The only conversation he's heard that he hasn’t been directly involved in since Duke showed up and smashed their apatheia (he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t still annoyed about that) is that of his own travelling companions bickering over what to make for dinner with their limited ingredients as he stepped away to find their mysterious disappearing old man.

Raven took the loss of the crystal hard. Or at least, Yuri thinks he did. He certainly vanished quickly when they decided to wait around while Rita took some time to investigate. He’d been right next to him one second and then gone the next, before they’d had a chance to agree to meet back up for dinner at sundown. With no one having seen him all day since to let him know, it’d fallen on his shoulders to hunt him down and drag him back. Raven might’ve been plenty energetic on their first trip through the desert, but they all know better than to let him make the return journey on an empty stomach. The man eats like a bird at the best of times - he really can’t afford to be doing that now.

He’d grumbled and whined about it being him who had to go find him, but in all honesty he’s kind of pleased. He’s found himself surprisingly worried about the old man - this is the first time since they’ve started officially travelling together that he’s pulled a disappearing act. Normally it’s hard to get him to shut up for more than 20 minutes at a time, so the better part of a day without seeing or hearing from him at all is completely unheard of. If his silence doesn’t mean he’s curled up and died somewhere, then Yuri knows that he’s the only one of their party who stands any chance of fetching him with both of them left unscathed.

He’s explored the residential side of the town (if it can truly be called that) extensively already throughout the day. Not that it was hard to do - other than the homes of locals that are a bit further out, the town proper is essentially three big buildings and a deck. He’d quickly concluded that there were very few places to hide a man with a proclivity for such a bright shade of purple amongst the muted timber and the gentle green of the grass. The only conclusion he can come to is that Raven must’ve headed to the other side of town, to the sea of flowers that makes his sinuses itch just looking in their direction.

For all he knows they’ll give him a headache, the flowers are incredibly pretty. It had been the bushes of pink and blue trumpets that had caught his attention in the midday, as Estelle had run over to them in delight and plucked a few. She’d fashioned a few little fascinators, of sorts (a skill she’d learned in the finishing school she had no doubt been forced to attend as the potential future Empress), and spent the better part of an hour lacing them into everyone’s hair. If he looks back over his shoulder, he knows he’ll see Judith wearing the pink blossoms - rhododendron, Estelle had called them - with pride, while Karol nervously fidgets with his own, worried they’ll fall out, ruining the princess’s hard work.

Now, however, in the amber light of the sunset, it’s the flower tunnel that draws his eye. Not that he hadn’t noticed it before - it’s impossible to miss, vibrant as it is. But he’s never been the biggest fan of yellow, always a little bright for his tastes. The way the light bounces off the thousands of little flowers is certainly eye-catching though, setting them in such a way that their radiance is somehow easier on the eye. They’re impossible to look away from as he draws closer, some emotion he’s unused to, couldn’t possibly name, stirring in his chest. The chains dance gently in the breeze, bouncing against each other like a bead curtain, and something about it makes him nostalgic for the familiarity of the Lower Quarter.

Then he spots him, further in, beneath the boughs. His hand rests comfortably on the handle of the knife he keeps at his waist, the other left to the mercy of the breeze as he stares up amidst the blossoms. They bathe him in their glow, mingling with the dying rays of the sun, casting him almost golden . He’s mesmerised by the sight himself, it seems, completely off-guard for the first time in the couple of months Yuri’s known him - for all he plays the fool, Yuri would be an even bigger one not to realise how keenly Raven follows the every movement of all those around him.

But right now, he seems… defenceless. Open. Fragile. Unaware that a world aside from him and the sea of flowers even exists. He could do whatever he wanted to Raven in this moment, he thinks, and he just knows the man would be equally surprised by anything. Something about that knowledge, this vision makes his chest feel light, almost airy.

The image sears itself into his mind, unbidden, and he knows instantly. No matter how hard he tries he’ll never erase it.

“Laburnum.”

He startles as Raven speaks. Perhaps he hadn’t been as unaware as he’d thought.

“Huh?” he grunts dumbly.

“These flowers. They call ‘em Laburnum. Or golden rain in some parts.” he says, flicking his eyes (almost the vibrant green of dense aer with the glow) over to acknowledge Yuri. He goes quickly back to gazing upwards, almost reverent. “Pretty apt.”

Yuri finds himself eyeing the flowers again as he moves closer. They’re strangely shaped, the blooms, unlike any he’s seen before. The petals curl back and in on themselves, clustered closely together in a way that hides the little shock of red in their centres. Stranger still are the buds, gently curved in a way that reminds him of the plantains he’d seen in Dahngrest’s market.

From the right angle, they could almost look like birds in flight, or indeed a sudden burst of rainfall.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Raven’s lips quirk into a smile. His eyebrows set into something pensive, wistful even.

“They’re pretty rare these days. Didn’t think I’d ever get to see a single tree with my own eyes, never mind a whole grove…”

The melancholy that’s settled over him like a veil is impossible to ignore, his voice distant as though transported to another time. There’s a pressure at the base of Yuri’s throat as he watches him, finds himself wanting to do… something. He’s not sure what. Just anything to pull him from his reverie. But of course, in the end all he really knows is sarcasm.

“Wouldn’t have taken you as the type to know about flowers.”

It seems to work somewhat. Though perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised - he and Raven have always been strangely in sync.

“Wouldn’t be much good with the ladies if I didn’t know about little things like flowers, now would I?” he says, finally turning to face Yuri more fully. His eyes soften with mischief, and yet still seem tight with… well if Yuri had to put a name to it, he’d wager it was grief .

A half-joke then; his flower knowledge almost certainly learned on behalf of one lady, though he’d wager not women generally at all. After all, for all he seemed to enjoy playing the womaniser, his actions often seemed chosen to purposefully push them away if anything.

Yuri rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance. Raven smiles. It gets closer to meeting his eyes than he expected it to.

“I can’t imagine just throwing their names around is especially impressive. Seems more like the absolute bare minimum.” he says, hand coming to rest on a cocked hip. Raven’s smile widens, coaxed out of his shell somewhat by the familiar teasing routine.

“Ah, but whoever said I only knew their names?”

His eyebrows raise instinctively. To know flowers’ names is one thing, but any other details aren’t usually common knowledge; their language, how to arrange them, the best methodology for their care all usually things known solely by the upper echelons of society, or else those with enough money in their back pockets to take a chance on starting a related career.

“Don’t tell me…” he trails off, fixing Raven with a sceptical look. The old man’s face splits into a wide grin, hand coming up to flash a peace sign. Dork, his thinks impulsively as he huffs a laugh, surprised at the fond tone the word takes in his mind. Then quick as the cheer arrives it drops again, leaving the previous melancholic half-smile splayed across Raven’s face.

“These wouldn’t be much good in a bouquet though, pretty as they are. If bein’ deadly poisonous wasn’t enough, they’re usually used as a symbol of the forsaken. ” he muses, the last word spat like something dirty from his mouth.

“Who the hell would look at these and decide that? ” Yuri barks out. His expression must look as bewildered as he feels - Raven laughs at him, gentle but genuine.

“Yeah, it seems like a lot, right?” he says. His gaze drifts away from Yuri’s, losing focus and staring past him, through his shoulder. “She always liked them though, in spite of that.”

“...She?” he asks, carefully. He doesn’t want to sound eager, too nosey. Doesn’t want to push when the old man is this fragile. But he can’t help his curiosity - this is the first he’s mentioned of his past, the first clue to piecing together the admittedly fascinating mystery that is Raven. The man himself seems to realise it too, that with just one sentence he’s revealed a huge part of himself he hasn’t previously. Graciously, he doesn’t scramble to hide it away as Yuri might’ve expected.

“Ah. Old friend.” he says softly, as though divulging a secret. “She’s… gone now. But she was always a big fan of flowers. These weren’t her favourite but. She liked ‘em plenty.”

It slips out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Not like you to spill your past out in the open like this, old man.”

It takes all of his mental strength not to kick himself as Raven’s expression shutters, the nostalgia, longing , vanishing from his face in favour of something more carefully guarded. His eyes though, expressive as they are, can’t hide the pain.

“Ah. I suppose they got me feelin’ a little nostalgic. Forgive me.”

The silence stretches out between them for miles and miles as he watches Raven, Raven in turn watching the dancing laburnum above his head. His eyes flicker from bloom to bloom, as though cataloguing each one carefully, trying to commit their shape, their profile to memory. Yuri finds his eyes drawn to his lips as they purse, a gentle pout taut in a manner that gives away the nervous chewing of the inside of his mouth. His thick eyelashes fan over his cheekbones as he blinks, and Yuri hates the silence of the country, because it’s weird sappy shit like this that the bustle of the city helps him to avoid thinking about.

Raven’s a lot like these flowers , is the thought that springs to his mind, unprompted. And it’s ridiculous really. Completely nonsensical. The kind of thing Karol might come out with on a night where he’s overtired, that they’d all tease him for mercilessly until they pass out. But there’s nothing to distract him from it - he’s surrounded by the evidence, and the more he tries to ignore it the more sense it seems to make to him. The two parts of his brain war with each other, unrelenting, and he can feel the push and pull starting to show on his face.

Then a single blossom falls from the canopy above. It lands perfectly atop Raven’s bangs, perched there like a peepit in a tree, and he can’t fight the analogy anymore - Raven certainly looks forsaken, in that instant, the pain swimming in his eyes. And yet usually so bright and cheery, like the flower’s vibrant colouring, almost desperate for attention as he jokes around-- and then pushing people away, like a poison, when they try to get close. An exterior crafted to make you underestimate him, and yet a hidden strength, swift and deadly on the battlefield. A sunny disposition that washes over you like a summer rain, calming and refreshing.

He’s not sure anymore if the golden glow bouncing off Raven’s skin is from the flowers, or just simply the man himself.

A light breeze jostles the flower, and it slips from his hair. The strange shape hooks itself onto the crook of his nose and it wedges firmly, even as the wind picks up, cascading more petals down onto them both. Raven either ignores it, or doesn’t notice, his eyes falling closed as he lets nature wash over him.

He steps closer carefully, unthinkingly. He feels as a moth to a flame, though why he couldn’t say. He’s unfamiliar with the stirring in his chest that rises at the sight, doesn’t understand his compulsion to reach out, to touch Raven. To check he’s still solid and there, that he hasn’t been blown away on the currents of the wind like his namesake.

His hand reaches out, plucking the flower from Raven’s face gently. The old man startles instantly, eyes snapping open and meeting Yuri’s as he flicks the blossom to the floor. Raven’s eyes scan over him, looking for answers that he’s not sure he’ll find. Yuri certainly wouldn’t be able to explain if he were to ask. He simply looks between the sunken blue-green, carefully smoothing more fallen petals from Raven’s shoulders.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, voice practically a whisper beneath the howling of the breeze, far gentler than he’d expected it to be, “I think I understand why your friend liked them.”

Raven’s eyebrow cocks, ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he answers, lips quirking into a small smile, something genuine and raw and delicate that he doesn’t recall gracing his face before. “They’ve got a certain charm, I suppose.”

Raven’s breath hitches - he doesn’t hear it, only sees the narrowing of his nostrils, the bobbing of his Adam's apple. His eyes are so round, as the melancholy starts to subside slowly, leaving something inquisitive in his wake. It’s an expression he’s sure he’s seen on Repede before when he was younger, still training, still struggling with learning to sit on command, and it feels strange to compare Raven to a puppy, but it certainly isn’t the strangest thing that’s happened to him in the last 24 hours.

It feels like hours before Raven breaks his eyes away, anything raw and gentle immediately traded for bluster and jokes as he ducks his head.

“What’re you doin’ hangin’ out with me amidst the flowers anyway?” he asks, voice a little hoarse as his teasing lilt starts to creep back to him. “The others will start to talk if we keep havin’ these secret rendezvous, young man! How scandalous!”

He slaps his hand to his chest, feinting horror at their make-believe tryst. Yuri snorts, socking him lightly in the arm. Ridiculous as his jokes are, he can’t help but be pleased to see him return to some semblance of normalcy.

“I came to get you for dinner, dumbass. After that, you can feel free to go on ahead to Nordopolica.” he says, turning back around to lead the way to the others with a nod of his head.

Raven snickers at his own antics, hurrying to follow after him as he pulls a hurt expression.

“What, you wanna get rid of me so soon?”

“Wrong.” he snorts, head turned pointedly away in an effort to ignore his self-deprecating jokes. “I just wouldn't want you to miss the new moon and your chance to deliver the letter all on our account.”

The beat of silence that follows is just a touch too long for their usual banter. He turns back to Raven, worried momentarily that he’s run off again and he’ll be on a wild goose chase for the rest of the night, only to find him following attentively behind him. He’s looking at Yuri, expression… totally indecipherable to him for once, actually. It’s a rare occasion for him to have no idea what the old man is thinking.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow quirking. Raven simply smiles, wide and catlike.

“Oh, nothin’ important~” he sing-songs, taking over the lead in the moment Yuri pauses. “Honestly, I could do fine without your concern.”

Yuri scowls.

“Wrong again.” he says, moving to keep pace, their back-and-forth continuing until they arrive back at the inn, and the campfire their party has set up.

(He never does figure out what Raven’s expression had meant on that day, but when he finds the small laburnum branch tangled in his hair alongside the rhododendron the next morning, he quietly stows it away in the bottom of Karol’s bag, heart fluttering strangely in his chest)

-------------⇸

The speed at which Mantaic’s locals manage to throw the party together is honestly quite astounding.

The stalls of the inn concourse have cleared their tables of their wares, already starting to accumulate piles of local cuisine - barely an hour since the news of the Flynn Brigade’s arrival started to spread throughout the town, whispers abandoned in favour of joyous cries despite the extreme early hour, and already there’s a feast to rival one for a noble. People of all ages are wide awake and gleeful, even very young children who don’t fully understand what’s happening squealing with joy at seeing their parents’ and older siblings’ excitement.

The princess tries to help where she can (as always) - shakily carrying huge steaming pots to their directed positions, assisting in dragging tables out of homes to line the streets. Were Flynn not so busy tying up loose ends with the stragglers of the Cumore Brigade, Judith’s sure he’d be dancing around her like a mother hen. Instead, Karol and Rita have become his stand-ins, getting roped into helping themselves albeit minus Estelle’s unshakeable enthusiasm.

She’s glad everything turned out okay in the end. It had been with great unease that they’d all drifted off to sleep the night before, distressed at their powerlessness, their lack of time. Battling with the princess’s impulsivity had been hard, especially in the presence of her big round eyes and quivering lips, but a necessary evil. There really wasn’t anything they could’ve done. Judith remains firm in her belief - it would be impossible to rehabilitate a man like Cumore in jail. Even with the combined influence of Flynn and Estelle, the strength of their idealism and naïveté, a man as corrupt as he would never conform to concepts like morals and ethics. He would only change in death.

The man’s fall from grace, while certainly better than allowing him to run amok, does little to satisfy her in all honesty. The townspeople, however, just seem glad to be free of his clutches, regardless of the flaws in the Empire’s justice system. She can’t blame them really - she’s sure she’d feel the same in their shoes, the ever-lingering threat of death by dehydration or being eaten alive finally lifted from their shoulders.

She’s glad for the lifting of the tense air that had settled over their travelling party the night before. That there’s a smile on Estelle’s face again is good too. For the sake of the guild, nothing more , she scolds herself mentally, quashing the leap in her chest as the baby blues smile in her direction.

She finds herself counted as one of the old souls on this occasion; the small group who are extremely pleased for the turn of events and the freedom of the people, but are either too tired or consider themselves too uninvested to actually lend a hand. Raven is a regular to this group, fucked as his sleeping pattern is, and it doesn't surprise her as much as she thought it would that Patty too sits among them.

Yuri sitting back, however, is new.

Something is off with him. Something has been off with him since… well, certainly since their discovery of Cumore's little scheme. He’s never been the most talkative of their group, a man of relatively few words until it comes to snide jibes and teasing, or else rallying speeches to raise morale or call outs for something he perceives to be an injustice.

(She’d say he was self-righteous - but then, by that same line of thinking, isn’t she also?)

His usual quietude has never felt like this though - dense and oppressive like thunderclouds, holding a tension that, if referred to, threatens to strike like lightning, harsh and quick and painful. It’s possible he’d just slept badly, but she doubts it. She and Yuri are painfully alike at the best of times and in this, it seems, they continue to be.

Yes, for Yuri, the biggest champion of justice among them, to still be so tense, so incredibly on edge… It’s extremely telling.

The only one who seems to have noticed Yuri’s torment other than her (and his faithful pooch) is, of course, Raven. It’s no surprise - he’s always kept a close eye on Yuri, in the time she’s known them. She’d heard tell that the Don had taken an interest in Yuri when he’d met him, in a way usually foreign to him in regards to newcomers. Normally it would be years - years of hard work, of craft and contributions in the name of the guilds, for the man to so much as glance in your direction, let alone learn your name (understandably so for so busy and powerful a man). Yet Yuri had waltzed in and garnered his full attention in the space of a few hours, at best.

That Raven has clearly been instructed to stake him out, in addition to his apatheia hunt, feels natural. Less so is a good chunk of what he actually seems to be observing about Yuri - she’s sure the Don would much rather see a report on his fighting capabilities, his disposition, the flexibility of his morality in a pinch, than whatever he’s gleaning by staring at his back when he takes his shirt off, or watching the flow of his hair in the desert breeze.

(That is, however, a report she would quite like to read, if for nothing more than watching the burn of Raven’s ears at the request)

This morning, however, the eye he keeps on him is careful. Though the ever-present catlike smirk that plays over his lips remains, there’s something considering to his gaze - a scheme in the works but not those of his usual calibre. Nothing designed to rile Rita, fluster Estelle or make the kids laugh (though she’s sure if he can tie his usual goals into whatever he’s concocting then he certainly won’t shy away at the chance).

If she had to guess at his intentions, she’d have thought--

The blaring of a horn throws her suddenly from her train of thought - the celebrations are brought instantly into full swing by a makeshift band of passing guildsmen throwing their own contributions into the mix. Judith doesn’t consider herself a big listener of music, in all honesty, but she’d be hard pressed not to recognise the juxtaposed staccatos and legatos characteristic of Dahngrestian swing - while lesser known within Empire towns like this one, the style is famous the world over.

She hasn’t had many opportunities to join in with the festivities the guilds are known for throwing, where dancers step and twirl faster than the barkeeps can pour drinks (and really, isn’t that an impressive thought, considering the drinking culture in Dahngrest?) She’s bore witness to their local dancing customs only once or twice, and never within the heart of the city itself, and she knows with certainty that while her footwork on the battlefield might be immaculate, she has two left feet for dancing - would certainly never dare to attempt swing. She has great sympathy for the townsfolk who, while enraptured by the melody, feet tapping along jovially, seem as though they don’t know quite what to do with it.

Altosk’s second, on the other hand, is ecstatic. He barks a delighted laugh that startles Patty, almost jostling her from the table she’s perched upon, and finally momentarily draws Yuri from his reverie. She watches, amused, as he throws Yuri’s grumpy, inquisitive look a wink before springing to his feet.

“Hey, kid!” he calls, flagging Karol down as he heads to the middle of the concourse. Their illustrious guild master looks up from the mabo curry bun he’s attempting to swallow whole, wide-eyed. Raven grins, crooked and gummy in a way she’s come to associate with his mischief.

“Why don’t we show these lovely folks how it’s done, as thanks for their hospitality?”

Karol is practically vibrating at the concept. In a flash he’s pulling off his gloves and whipping his bag over his head, dumping the pile in Rita’s lap (eliciting, of course, an incredibly over the top yelp of annoyance). He scarfs down the remnants of the bun as he hops over the table he’s sat at, scampering over to Raven in a manner that does nothing to hide his enthusiasm.

“You better not stand all over my feet, Raven!” he calls as he draws closer, face pulling into a pout that doesn’t quite ring true. The noise Raven makes in response is rather like that of a strangled cat.

“The nerve o’ kids these days!” he bemoans, pinching his sinuses with a shake of his head. “I’ll have you know yours truly is the pride of Altosk! Ya won’t find a better dancer in all o’ Dahngrest, not even the Don himself!”

“Uhu, suuuure. ” Karol drawls, disbelieving, as he comes to a stop by his side.

It’s as he does that Raven ducks his head close to the boy, hand a shield to cover whatever he says. His words are inaudible, but if Karol’s terrible attempts at hiding his furtive glances in Yuri’s direction are anything to go by, Judith would have to guess it’s something about whatever Raven’s scheming for Brave Vesperia’s second.

The band seems to catch wind of their plans, slowing the jaunty tune down to allow the two to begin. Karol dusts his hands off on his trousers bashfully, ridding himself of any remnants of curry, before taking Raven’s hand in his. Their movements start off slow and creeping, almost unnatural to watch, but it quickly becomes apparent to her that they’re motions meant to teach rather than for actual dancing - an enunciated display of footwork for the surrounding beginners as they take their time to get a feel for each other as dance partners.

And then, Raven taking Karol’s waist, they begin in earnest. Movements still slow, but now fluid as water, they begin to turn around one another in the style she vaguely recognises, and while she knows nothing about dancing, it’s clear that they’re extremely good. They match each other's timing perfectly, not a step out of place, and she could believe they were gliding if not for the dust their footsteps kick up.

Karol is good, of course, especially for a kid of his age (she wonders idly if he might’ve had a brief foray in a dancing guild, prior to joining the Hunting Blades), but Raven is really something else. She’s never seen a man able to move his hips in such a way, sashaying in a way that’s frankly a little hypnotising - if she thought he were truly interested in her, then this’d definitely be enough to make her begin to consider his earlier flirtations more seriously. It’s frankly criminal, she thinks, that his trousers and jacket do so much to obscure his ass.

As they become more comfortable, they begin to ramp it up a little - they take it in turns to twirl one another, alternating between wide sweeping arcs, Raven displaying his extreme flexibility to twist beneath Karol’s arm, to fast tight twirls that almost remind her of Rita’s casting motions. For these, Karol spins so quickly she’s surprised he doesn’t completely lose balance and land face first in the dirt. Instead he simply laughs jovially, really getting into the spirit of it and losing himself to the music. Raven’s responding smile is fond, like a father watching their kid, and she could almost believe they’ve both forgotten about their ulterior motives, if not for how Raven keeps glancing in their direction every other time he’s facing their way.

It’s as Estelle drags Rita out to join them, accompanied by a group of the locals, that Judy feels something ugly snare her heart and promptly takes the opportunity to cast a considering glance instead to Patty and Yuri. The smaller is bouncing where she sits, gleefully watching the dancers - she seems antsy to join in, if only she could find a spare partner who wouldn’t accidentally crush her.

Yuri surprises her - while he might not be completely out of his funk, he’s watching more attentively than she previously expected. She gazes at him curiously for a while as he leans his head on his hand, watching the Dahngrestian pair’s increasing frenzy. Karol’s giggles are near constant, and Raven’s been infected by his happiness, laughing obnoxiously himself. The creases of Yuri’s eyes tighten, even as the rest of his face fails to emote, as his eyes seem to lock on Raven’s face and stay there. She smiles.

“Ahem.” she coughs, sharp and decidedly fake. Yuri and Patty both are startled away from the party, turning to her. She raises her eyebrows pointedly at the former, coy smirk rising to her lips. His eyes widen in response, as Patty turns confusedly to look at him, before he flusters, turning away from the party entirely. She laughs.

It’s at that moment that Karol comes spinning towards them, hand freed from Raven’s grasp at last. His smile is blinding, and he’s struggling to catch his breath, but he still seems to be full of energy as Raven follows behind him.

“Patty, you probably know a bit of swing, right?” he asks her, real question thinly veiled by his proffered hand.

She’s a clever lass, though. “Hah! Of course I do, matey!” she declares, grabbing it firmly and pulling him back out into the street.

Raven watches them go fondly, before turning to her. With a flourish, he bows to her, graceful as a knight but with none of the prim and proper charm.

“Judy, my darlin’, could I convince ya to honour ol’ Raven with a dance?”

His eyes never leave hers as he asks, gaze sharp and lacking all pretense of genuine flirting.

Ah, so that’s his game is it?

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly!” she declares exaggeratedly, hand to her chest. “Not when Yuri so clearly wants to instead!”

The effect is instant. She barely has time to note the twitch of Yuri’s ears at the sound of his name before his head whips around to look at them.

“Hu- what?”

Raven springs back upright, throwing his hand up to clutch at his own chest.

“Yuri, darlin’, if you wanted to dance with me then all you had to do was say so! No need to make Judy do all yer dirty work for ya!”

He closes the gap between them in a matter of steps, as Yuri’s face grows more panicked by the second.

“Wh-- no, what?! Judy, no, I can’t dance , JU--!!”

She smiles as Raven takes him by the hand and tugs him away. Yuri’s expression reminds her of a bunwigle, caught unaware in the middle of the night, backed into a corner with no escape. It’s incredibly endearing, and certainly a nice change from the faux-apathy he’s been stewing in.

As they move away she watches as Raven’s expression transforms from mischievous to something more careful, considerate. He doesn’t guide Yuri to the middle of the crowd as she’d expected, where their friends spin with reckless abandon, but instead to a quieter area of the dancing space. Yuri seems just as confused as she feels, more than likely expecting Raven to have humiliated him with his lack of skill. They’re far enough away that whatever the older man says to reassure him is lost to her, but he smiles and takes Yuri’s hands gently.

Her heart swells at the careful way Raven teaches him, easily pulls him out of his darker thoughts and concentrates his mind on something else. Yuri doesn’t strike her as the sort to let himself be taken care of, but she doubts he even realises that’s what’s happening - probably sees it instead as some sort of challenge. It’s nice. She might not have known him long, but she feels close to him in a way she hasn’t felt with another person for… a good ten years, she’d wager. She’d forgotten what it felt like, to see good things happen to someone you care about.

He trips over Raven’s feet often, but Raven doesn’t let him get self-conscious about it - instead exaggeratedly pretending to trip himself in a way that allows Yuri to chip in and tease him. When there’s one failed attempt too many and Yuri attempts to break away, he simply pulls him back in, closer, and looks him in the eyes.

(She feels a little bad for still watching, personal and intimate as the moment is becoming, but it’s hard to find anything else interesting at this point)

“What is it I always say when I’m fightin’, Yuri?” she can just about hear the old man say over the wail of the trombone.

Yuri’s tone is monotonous, even as his face starts to rise into an affectionate smirk.

“‘Ooo, eee, ow, my back hurts?’” he says, quirked eyebrow a dead giveaway for his bullying. He receives a light slap to his arm for his trouble that leaves him laughing openly in a way she… hasn’t actually seen from him in the time she’s known him.

Huh.

“That it’s just like dancin’, ya dolt!” he says. He laces their fingers carefully before starting to move once more through the basic steps. “You’ll see what I mean before long.”

After a few more failed attempts, Yuri finally starts to figure it out. He still steps on Raven’s toes more often than not, but it’s to be expected for a newbie in the face of a dance as rapid as swing - she’s quite impressed at how fast he’s picked it up in all honesty. He’s already doing a damned sight better than Rita, whose motions are still awkward and stiff as she’s twirled by Estelle (though she looks to be having the time of her life, in spite of it).

They look very sweet together, in all honesty. It’s the most she’s seen either of them relax in front of other people - Yuri’s snark is quickly abandoned as he starts to really get into the swing of it, and most of Raven’s jokes and teasing go along with it. They’re just a couple of normal guys in their own little world, dancing together beneath the rising sun, looking genuinely happy for once. Watching them laughing together, she finds her own spirits raised too, even as she continues to sit to one side like a wallflower.

And she’s glad she did. If she hadn’t, she’d have missed out on this potentially one-time-only sight of Yuri’s carefree smile. Would’ve never seen the sudden change in Yuri’s demeanor as he looks up at Raven mid-spin, eyes widening, before his expression becomes suddenly raw.

He’s not watching his feet at all any more - he’s just going with the flow, and reading Raven’s movements and they’re incredibly in sync to say Yuri has all of 10 minutes of experience. It’s strange to think it, but he seems to be having fun , doing something other than fighting, even despite his mess ups. Yuri’s uncharacteristically crooked smile, as his eyes never leave Raven’s, is blindingly beautiful, and piques her curiosity.

Before today, when she’d seen the admiring glances the Raven had sent his way, she’d have thought he was barking up the completely wrong tree. Now though (although she doubts Yuri’s realised the way he’s starting to look at the old man) she’s really not so sure.

Then the moment is gone.

Behind her, she hears him. Flynn, barking orders to his brigade, accompanied by the protests of the now-bound followers of Cumore. And in that exact instant, Yuri stops stock-still. Raven goes crashing into him, frantically apologising and trying to check he’s okay, but it’s as though he isn’t there. Yuri just stares past her to Flynn, eyes wide and unseeing but… terrified , if she had to take a guess.

She can hear Raven call to him as he slips his hands free from his grip, and he looks up glancingly. He mutters something, what she can only imagine is some excuse, or a few words of apology, before he’s stalking off towards the inn and shutting the door behind him briskly.

Raven, standing alone and off to one side, looks very small in that instant. Like he doesn’t know quite where he went wrong, what he could’ve possibly done differently.

Perhaps, just this once, she can take pity on him. After all, if there’s anyone who can fix her left feet…

Standing and smoothing down her skirts, she heads over to him, taking his hand, and he startles. His big blue eyes look up at her, puppy-like, and it’s like Estelle the night before all over again. She sighs, already regretting her question before she asks.

“Is the offer still open?”

He smiles. Solemn. But it’s a start.

me, age 12: haha yeah raven blatantly has a thing for yuri and i love them together, but i guess there isn't much to imply yuri likes him back huh me, age 24, seeing the 'Happy Birthday' skit for the first time and learning the Very Specific Age Gap between Yuri and his first ever crush: a

ftr no one in the vesperia party is cishet no i will not take questions

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imaginesforjohnnydepp · 3 years

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Sidney’s First Day of School

for @kittenlittle24 @evelynrosestuff

Louisiana, August, 1998

On an early Monday morning in mid August, Simone held Sidney’s hand as they walked through the hallways of St. Stephens Catholic School. All around her, there were boys and girls her age who also held on to their parents’ hands, some of them crying as they were dropped off at certain classrooms while the much older kids whooped and hollered with delight as they saw their friends. They walked to the end of a hall which signified the lower grade levels; there were colorful posters on the walls and drawings until they came to a stop. There was a brown skin woman with long dark hair, and she smiled down at Sidney expectantly. “And this must be Sidney. I’m Ms. Chopra, welcome to kindergarten!”

The woman called Ms. Chopra ushered the both of them into the classroom and there were kids already there. Some were crying and clinging to their parents, others were quietly sitting at the tables while others were already playing together; Sidney turned back to her mom who was encouraging her to interact with the others. “Go on, baby, it’s okay. You’re going to have so much fun and you’re going to make lots of new friends.” The five year old looked from the other kids to her mom and back again before making her way over to the nearest table where a little blond girl with a plaid red headband sat scribbling in a coloring book. It was a Wiggles coloring book, the same one that Sidney has on her little wooden table in her room.

“Hey! I have the same coloring book too!” Sidney absolutely loves the Wiggles; she watches their show every Saturday morning, listens to their albums almost every day and saw them in Paris with her dad and Vanessa. “Do you like the Wiggles too?” the little blond girl asked, and Sidney nodded. In less than five minutes of Sidney walking into the classroom, it looked like she made a new friend. The girl’s name was Morgan and it turned out they lived in the same neighborhood, on the same street, on opposite corners. Meanwhile, Simone was watching all of this with a smile on her face as her little girl shared her crayons, wondering why she was ever worried in the first place.

Of course Sidney had this, how could anyone not like her, as warm and sweet as she is? After one final glance, Simone slipped out of the room unnoticed by Sidney who was preoccupied with the coloring book; she couldn’t wait to tell Johnny about the new developments.

#johnny depp imagines

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skinsharpenedteeth · 3 years

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Coming Up Easy - A Series of Firsts (Part 1)

Synopsis: AU where Alex and Michael are FWB since high school. Series of firsts in their relationship. Hopefully I’ll post one every Wednesday. No clue how many I’ll have. Feel free to send me ideas.

Part 1. First Apartment

It was the worst decision Alex had ever made if Michael had anything to say about it. He was across the country building himself a new life and Michael didn’t like it one bit.

“You can come visit,” Alex said, brushing a stray curl from Michael’s forehead. He was watching his own finger and tracing the loops of the curl instead of looking Michael in the eyes. “Friends visit each other.”

“Right, I know. You’re right. I can visit,” Michael agreed, his stomach feeling queasy at the fact that if he wanted to see Alex he would have to visit. He couldn’t show up unannounced because he was lonely or having a bad day. No one would be waiting for him at the Wild Pony for drinks. His friend would be too far away in a different bar, possibly making new friends.

Michael stared down at his phone, the chat window he shared with Alex open and depressingly inactive. No blinking dots to say Alex was typing or thinking about him too. He sighed and tossed the phone onto the bar in front of him, signaling Maria’s new bartender to get him another beer. Once the beer was in front of him, Michael opened his phone screen again and stared at the chatbox some more.

‘Fuck it,’ he finally said to himself as he began to type.

Me 11:15 p.m.>> You up?

He set the phone down again and sipped his beer, watching the other patrons through the mirrors behind the bar. There were some guys at the pool table that he could go swindle for a game or two. Liz, Max, and Kyle were in a corner booth all laughing and talking animatedly. He could hear the whoops and cheers from someone taking a turn on the mechanical bull outside the bar. There were so many things to distract him, but all Michael wanted was to talk to Alex.

Alex 11:20 p.m.>> Are you seriously booty calling me from five states away? Me 11:21 p.m.>> I mean, this isn’t that different from when we were in college and you had that late chem lab and I kept getting bored waiting for you to get out… Alex 11:23 p.m.>> That’s not a very subtle way to ask for nudes. Me 11:24 p.m.>> I mean, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to nudes if you’re offering them, but really I’m just at the Pony missing my best friend. Alex 11:26 p.m.>> You should call Isobel then. I’m sure she’d be glad to hang out. Me 11:27 p.m.>> Jerk. Me 11:27 p.m.>> Wyd? Alex 11:29 p.m.>> Staring at the black void of my bedroom listing all the things I need to get done tomorrow after I get home from work. This is basically like when I moved in with Kyle in college except I have more boxes and no one to guilt into unpacking them for me.

Michael stared at the phone and thought about that first apartment. He’d moved in with Kyle after Kyle’s dad died. Kyle had transferred from Michigan State back to UNM in Albuquerque to be closer to his mom, but he was still on the pre-med track so living in town was out of the question. Michael remembers them all getting wasted on whiskey that first night and after Kyle had passed out on the futon mattress (which was on the floor and not on the still-disassembled futon), he and Alex had escaped to his room.

Me 11:33 p.m.>> Remember the rug burns you gave me that second night? Alex 11:35 p.m.>> You deserved that for the hickies you gave me! It looked like I'd been attacked by an octopus in my sleep!

Michael grinned into his beer. He didn’t regret the hickies. They’d been drunk and horny. He’d pinned Alex to the shitty, half-deflated air mattress and left marks in a constellation from his neck to the inside of his thighs and the little shit had loved every fucking second of it. Then Alex had tried to roll them and just ended up knocking Michael over off the mattress. They’d laughed and Alex had apologized into his mouth between kisses. He’d tasted like whiskey and cheap pizza and Michael remembered being blissfully happy somewhere underneath all the horniness. The rugburns hadn’t come until the next night when Alex had fucked him hard on the floor, carpet digging into Michael’s knees, elbows, and cheek. It’d been worth it to see Kyle the next morning try to figure out how to address the thinness of the wall between their bedrooms.

Me 11:39 p.m.>> Fucking worth it. You were so mad about those hickies, but I wore those rug burns like badges of honor. Alex 11:40 p.m.>> The fuck you did. You whined every day until they were gone. Me 11:41 p.m.>> Not how I remember it at all. You must have me confused with your other friend you occasionally fuck. Alex 11:42 p.m.>> I could never.

“Oh shit, I think Valenti’s passed out. Should we fuck with him? Draw dicks on his face? Make him pee himself?” Michael asked, giggling into Alex’s warm, shirt-covered shoulder. They were sitting pressed side by side against the living room wall. They’d been telling dirty jokes and arguing about playing Halo for the last fifteen minutes. The bottle of Jack Daniels was down to the backwash at the bottom of the bottle, having been split between the three of them as a celebration for Kyle and Alex getting an apartment together. No more sneaking into dorm rooms or paying roommates to find another place to sleep.

“If you’re so desperate to see a dick, I got something better we could do,” Alex had slurred into his hair as he tipped toward him.

“You’re fucking drunk, can you even get hard?” Michael had asked. Better question was could he get hard… they’d had a lot to drink in a short period of time.

“Why don’t we go to my room and find out? Help me break the place in. Christen it before Kyle can,” Alex suggested, grin salacious and eyebrows mischievous and hair slightly sweaty and mussed from their hauling boxes and putting together furniture. Michael couldn’t remember wanting him more. He surged forward and captured his lips in a messy, wet kiss that somehow didn’t suck for all its faults. They were both panting gently when they pulled back.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he agreed quietly, eyes still closed and enjoying the taste and smell of the moment, the feeling of his hand against Alex’s neck, and how much he wanted this forever. Alex pushed back and stood up unsteadily, leaning on the wall for support, and Michael followed suit. They stumbled into the bedroom, legs tangling and making them fall onto the air mattress in a heap, laughing breathlessly as they started to pull at their shirts. The apartment still smelled like paint and carpet cleaner and the new plastic of the air mattress, but it was a refuge from the world and if Michael could live in that moment forever, he might just.

“Ugh, you’re getting sappy,” Alex mock-complained as he pushed Michael onto his back and straddled his hips.

“Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michael countered with a grin, his hands, and expression betraying him as he let them both roam all over Alex’s body fondly, familiarly. Alex rolled his eyes, but his grin stayed in place. He grabbed Michael’s hands and pinned them to the floor by Alex’s knees.

Alex kissed down Michael’s chest and stomach, leaving dark red marks where he sucked the skin into his mouth until Michael whined for him to stop. He kept moving his own body down until he was hovering over the obvious tent in Michael’s shorts. He grazed his cheek against Michael’s bulge, staring up at him with a dirty tilt to his lips. Alex lifted Michael’s hands from beside him and buried them in his hair. Michael looked down at him curiously, but Alex didn’t explain. He simply pulled down Michael’s shorts to mid-thigh and took Michael’s cock between his lips.

Warm, wet ecstasy exploded through Michael’s nerve endings and he cried out, neck arching as he sucked in a breath at how good Alex’s mouth felt on him, his fingers tightening and pulling Alex’s hair. Alex moved his mouth fluidly over Michael’s cock and Michael was helpless against the sounds pouring out of his mouth. He pushed when Alex pulled, not wanting to be without the tight heat of his mouth any longer than he had to be. Alex’s hands were digging into his hips, probably bruising him, but Michael couldn’t focus on it, only let the dull pain heighten his experience of the pleasure.

“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, Alex. Christ,” Michael exclaimed between whimpers. Alex was going fast like he had a time limit. “Slow down, baby. We got all night.”

Alex popped off him and replaced his mouth with his hand, taking in a deep breath before continuing.

“Exactly. Let’s get the first one out of the way. I want to still be fucking when the sun comes up,” Alex gasped, squeezing his hand and making his grip on Michael’s cock almost too tight. Michael didn’t have an answer for that, was too busy imagining it, and Alex took his silence as acceptance of the plan. He bent down and took Michael back into his mouth.

Me 11:55 p.m.>> I could go for some hickies right about now Alex 11:56 p.m.>> Well, I can’t exactly come down to help you with that. Me 11:57 p.m.>> Guess you shouldn’t have moved. Alex 11:57 p.m.>> Something tells me you will survive. :P Me 11:58 p.m.>> Putting it on my Christmas list right now, though. Better come through for me, Manes. Alex 11:59 p.m>> You’re going to scandalize Santa asking for hickies. Me 12:00 a.m.>> He’ll understand. Alex 12:01 a.m.>> It’s past 1 here. I need to get some sleep. Miss you. Don’t get too drunk. Me 12:02 a.m.>> Miss you too. Dream about me.

#malex wip #coming up easy #part 1 #CUE pt 1 #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #fwb #au

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homeformyheart · 3 years

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simply be mine - adam du mortain x f!detective (twc)

author’s note: i needed to write a fluff piece after my last fic, “cottage by the sea,” and got inspiration while listening to a couple songs (see prompt line below) for a new years’ eve party fic. i hope you enjoy!

copyright: all characters, except my oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – adam du mortain x f!detective (regina bishop) rating/warnings: 14+; descriptions of drinking word count: 3.1k based on/prompt: “only girl in the world” by rihanna / “one and only” by adele summary: adam struggles to understand why anyone would care about human new years’ eve traditions, but when he finds out regina enjoys them, he finds himself intrigued.

simply be mine

when regina walked into the warehouse living room an hour before the agency’s new years’ eve party, she was pleasantly surprised to see unit bravo somewhat dressed up, even if they were standing around brooding like usual. she was both surprised and excited that she was invited to attend as well, without having to be someone’s plus one, even though she had been assured by both nate and farah that they would’ve invited her. she giggled internally at the memory of farah practically jumping off the walls of the warehouse living room in excitement, yelling what seemed like a hundred words per minute about going shopping and getting ready together.

she quickly learned that the rest of unit bravo hated attending agency work functions and avoided them as much as they could. however, everyone was “strongly encouraged” to attend the new years’ eve party, which she gathered from both morgan and adam that what the agency meant was “we better see you there or we’ll give you the worst cases next year.” she thought they were probably exaggerating a tiny bit, but let it slide.

perhaps to make up for the fact that they’d have to spend the night in a brightly lit and loud room for several hours with colleagues they didn’t care for, regina found that unit bravo had already started pregaming before she arrived, and they pregamed hard. she saw firsthand the sheer amount of alcohol they needed to consume just to feel a little buzzed.

another rare upside to being human, regina noted, a couple of shots of any brown liquor and she was good to go. of course, she only managed one shot of nate’s vintage prohibition-era whiskey before he snatched it away and started lecturing her on its rarity and history and had to settle for farah’s tequila.

“regina, do a shot with me!” farah practically screamed, bounding over to her with a half-empty bottle of tequila and limes in one hand and a pinch of salt in the palm of her other hand.

“who taught you how to do a tequila shot?” she asked incredulously as farah poured a generous shot for them both and handed her a lime.

“i looked it up online!” she said with such a proud look on her face that regina could only smile fondly at the person who had become her best friend on the team.

they both knocked back the shots and cringed, the salt and limes providing little relief to the burn; regina could only assume it was maybe ten times worse for farah. but then farah drained whatever was left in the bottle and let out a loud whoop before wrapping regina up in a big hug.

“i am soooooooo glad we get to celebrate with youuu!! you are the best person on this teammmmmm, after me, of course,” farah shouted and regina couldn’t help but laugh.

adam raised an eyebrow. “you mean she’s the best human on the team, don’t you, farah?”

“nopeeeeeeeeeeee. regina’s the bestttttttttt of us and you can’t convince me otherwiseeeee,” she said in a singsong voice, much to everyone else’s annoyance.

“hey farah, why don’t you put on some pre-party music?” regina suggested. farah’s eyes lit up and she sped away and disappeared before regina could blink.

she felt adam’s large presence behind her, casting a figurative shadow over her in the living room. the room was softly lit by the chandelier farah herself had selected, much to morgan’s annoyance. regina let herself lean back slightly without actually touching adam’s chest, knowing it would tempt him to wrap his hands around her waist.

except he only kept one hand hovering near her hip as he said in a low murmur, “you really shouldn’t encourage her, you know.”

the corner of her lips twitched as though it wanted to break into a smile, but regina knew adam wouldn’t appreciate being teased about being a ‘stick in the mud’ considering each member of unit bravo took their turn throughout the day telling him to lighten up.

“you know she’s not going to stop, so just let her have her fun,” she winked as a familiar song started vibrating through the walls, followed by farah’s vocals. “we’ll be heading out soon anyway.”

morgan let out a sound that was a cross between a loud huff and a growl as she stomped outside, cigarettes in hand.

“i want you to love me, like a hot ride,” farah sang out as she appeared in the living room, twirling gracefully as she leaped over the table to land in front of regina. “be thinking of me, doing what you like.”

regina laughed as adam sighed loudly, intending obviously for them to hear, before he walked over to where nate was leaning against the bookshelf with a glass of wine. she immediately missed the warmth of his body behind her, or rather, the tingle she got in her spine from the prospect of his touch. she took a long sip of her whiskey, willing herself to actually enjoy tonight and not dwell on the lack of progress between her and adam.

“come on, regina, sing with me!” farah grabbed her hand and started twirling her around, whatever was left of the whiskey sloshing out of the glass and on to the floor.

“want you to make me feel, like i’m the only girl in the world,” regina belted alongside farah, throwing her head back. “like i’m the only one you’ll ever love; like i’m the only one who knows your heart.”

farah grabbed the wine bottle on the table by nate before he could intervene and put it to her mouth like a microphone. “only girl in the worlddddd,” she crooned, before collapsing into a giggling fit on the couch, bringing regina down with her.

despite wanting to roll his eyes at farah’s antics, even nate couldn’t help but smile at how cheerful his family was and how nice it was to celebrate the holidays together.

“we should get going soon,” he said, finishing his glass of wine.

“no, wait, regina’s not dressed!” farah said, immediately standing and pulling regina up with her.

“what are you talking about? i am dressed,” regina protested, motioning toward her tailored dress pants and blouse.

farah wrinkled her nose. “oh honey, no. this is a fancy party and you need to dress like it. come on!” before she could protest further, farah had dragged her back toward her room.

* * * * * “you know, regina might appreciate it if you partake in some new years’ traditions,” nate said quietly, glancing over at his longtime friend, who was staring out the window.

adam looked over at him with one eyebrow raised. “and what traditions would that be?”

nate smiled mischievously. “well, the one that seems to be really popular among humans is kissing someone at midnight.”

nate could feel adam’s shoulders tense a fraction of a second before he saw the physical movement itself. “that is an impractical and inane tradition. i would think the detective to be above such childish antics.”

now it was nate’s turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “and i think she’d appreciate the romantic gesture. it’s not childish to want to ring in the new year with someone you care for.”

before adam could retort, the sound of heels clacking along the hallway and the gentle swishing movement of fabric drew his attention toward the only thing that was capable of unraveling centuries of carefully architected walls with a single glance. regina appeared in the living room, farah’s arm looped in hers, dressed in a strapless black floor-length gown with a sweetheart neckline and slit that went all the way up to her mid-thigh.

adam’s eyes followed the length of the slit; the creamy complexion of her skin drawing him in. his gaze traced the way the fabric clung to her curves, dipping at the waist before cupping her chest. her hair was styled in soft waves to one side, leaving her collarbone and neck exposed. he didn’t realize his eyes were continuing to trace the delicate lines of her neck and jaw, before they landed on her red lips. they were lighter than blood and yet, just as, if not more, enticing to him.

he watched as the corner of those luscious lips quirked up into a smirk, which seemed to snap him out of his trance. his gaze shot upward to meet her teasing blue ones, not realizing that his feet seemed to move of their own accord until he was standing right in front of her.

“can i help you, commanding agent du mortain?” regina said, the low and sultry tone of her voice sending warmth south in an unfamiliar, but not wholly unpleasant way.

adam’s throat suddenly felt dry – an odd, human-like sensation that made him pause, until he realized that regina was suddenly very close. too close. he inwardly begged his legs to take a step back, but they wouldn’t budge, and he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to anyway.

“your… dress. it’s impractical. what if you were to get attacked?” he said slowly after clearing his throat, clasping his hands behind his back.

regina smiled and gazed up at him knowingly, a look that was both infuriating and intoxicating. as though she could read every piece of his soul back to him and love all of him anyway.

“don’t worry, i have my volt gun strapped to my thigh, see?” she reached for his hand, her touch sending a jolt up his arm that would worry him for medical reasons if he were human, but instead was stoking a deep primal urge within him as she moved it toward the back of her thigh.

the familiar rectangular gun was firm underneath his fingers and even though regina had let go of his hand, he held on, not quite allowing himself to graze her skin, but feeling her body heat at the tips of his fingertips all the same.

“besides, i know you all will be keeping an eye on me,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him. adam could hear the flutter of each lash against the air and found himself wondering how they’d feel against his skin as she kissed her way down his chest.

“of course, i— i mean, we, won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, moving his hand back behind him, flexing it once before resuming his stance.

“well, i only care that you are keeping an eye on me, commanding agent,” she said, giving him a flirty wink before putting on her coat and following farah out to the car.

adam let out an audible groan and rubbed his face with his hands. nate clasped a hand on his shoulder and he looked over to see his best friend was smirking at him.

“it’s okay. but if you’re going to pretend like there’s nothing between you all night, then you won’t mind if we all take turns dancing with her, right?” his smile only widened as adam’s mouth parted in stunned surprise. “come on or we’ll be late.”

* * * * * adam stood, tense and rigid, in a corner of the ballroom near the balcony doors with morgan, who ducked out every so often when the lights and sounds got to be too much, while nate and farah took turns dancing with regina. it baffled him how an entire room full of trained agents could let themselves potentially be compromised by partaking in such celebratory activities. even his own team, although he would admit only to himself that they needed the break.

farah loved the upbeat songs that allowed her to twirl regina around as fast as she could, and he wondered how regina could handle what must be incredibly dizzying and nauseating for a human. and then there was nate, who took advantage of the slow ballads and classic waltzing music sprinkled throughout the evening, to lead regina around in simple box steps. it was very unlike adam to care what his team did during events like this, as long as they behaved themselves, but something about how nate would lean in every once in a while to say something and make regina laugh made him want to crush every glass in sight.

he crossed his arms and glared at the back of nate’s head, knowing he was doing this to antagonize him, somehow. he felt his gaze unwillingly soften, however, whenever he felt regina’s eyes glance over at him. he quickly looked away when he realized she was walking toward him, surveying the room as though he was being vigilant.

“not fond of dancing?” she asked, the words coming out in soft gasps as she sought to catch her breath.

“i don’t see the point,” he said quickly, the defensiveness in his tone catching even him by surprise. surely, he didn’t need to explain himself.

“sometimes things don’t have to have a point to be enjoyable,” she offered, her voice pleasantly cutting through the din of the party. “and i really like dancing.”

regina let out a soft hum as nate arrived and handed her a drink. she drank it gratefully, giving nate a gentle smile that made adam grit his teeth. morgan appeared next to her and swiftly took regina’s drink, finishing it despite her half-hearted protest.

“so, regina, what is your favorite new years’ eve tradition?” nate asked, hiding his smile behind his glass of wine and ignoring adam’s pointed glare.

“oh well, i always like how excited everyone gets and parties like this are definitely fun,” regina answered, pausing for just a moment to look down at her glass hesitantly before continuing, “but the best one is of course getting to kiss someone at midnight.”

“it’ll be midnight soon, do you have anyone you plan to kiss yet?” morgan asked, slinging an arm around regina’s shoulders. “i’m free at midnight, if you’re interested.”

adam cleared his throat. “that would be unprofessional, agent.”

morgan brought another cigarette to her lips. nate stopped her hand with the lighter and motioned to the balcony. “let’s get some air, morgan, and leave these two alone.”

“sure, if you think that means he’ll actually kiss her before i do,” morgan snickered, too soft for regina to hear but it was obviously directed at adam.

a soft romantic melody started playing over the speakers; a love ballad that regina was familiar with, judging by the way she started humming along and swaying gently in place.

i don't know why i'm scared i've been here before every feeling, every word i've imagined it all you'll never know if you never try to forget your past and simply be mine

regina blinked at adam’s sudden appearance in front of her, his large figure towering over hers and blocking the chandelier from her sight.

“you like this song.” it technically wasn’t a question.

“um, i guess?” she asked, puzzled.

“you should dance,” he said, his hands itching to reach for hers.

regina tilted her head to the side and looked up at him searchingly, her blue eyes delicately framed by her long dark lashes. “are you asking me to dance?”

he pursed his lips into a thin, straight line. “you would need a partner, and seeing as no one else is around, i can… dance with you. if you’d like.”

her eyebrows shot up in surprise. she was not expecting adam du mortain to willingly admit to asking her to dance. she quickly looked around and noticed that most of the agents had gone out on the balcony to watch the fireworks.

she smiled and tucked her hand gently into his and led him to the dance floor. they settled into a swaying rhythm as regina wrapped her arms around his neck. adam hesitantly placed his hands on her waist, and a sweet heat bloomed throughout her body, making her feel flushed.

“i thought dancing was pointless?” she asked teasingly after encouraging him to shift his weight between his feet to match her movements.

adam lowered his head, as if he didn’t want anyone reading his lips or hearing what he was about to say. “with you… it doesn’t seem that way.”

regina shook her head fondly. “you continue to surprise me, commanding agent.”

i dare you to let me be your, your one and only i promise i'm worthy to hold in your arms so come on and give me the chance to prove i am the one who can walk that mile until the end starts

“i hope so,” he muttered quietly. “i have lived over nine centuries, yet every day with you seems new and uncertain.”

regina was afraid to ruin the moment by saying anything and decided to step closer and rest her head on his shoulder instead. she smiled when his hands tightened around her waist, bunching the fabric in a way that she was sure would leave wrinkles.

“10…9…8”

her head shot up at the sound of the crowd outside counting down the last few seconds to the new year. “i didn’t realize it was almost midnight, we should go join everyone.”

adam’s green eyes bore into hers and she was close enough that she could see little specks of gold reflected in them from the chandeliers and ornate décor throughout the room. “you… you want to kiss mor—ahem, someone at midnight.”

“7…6…5”

“oh, i didn’t mean anything by it,” she said quickly, giving him a reassuring smile. she tried taking a step back only to find that adam was holding her tightly in place.

“but it’s a tradition you enjoy.” it was a statement, but he was looking for confirmation while trying to maintain his composure despite his heart hammering so loudly in his chest he thought regina would be able to hear it.

“4…3…2”

she dropped her hands from his shoulders and let them rest on his chest, fiddling with the lapels of his jacket nervously. “oh well, i— i suppose with someone i care for, yes.”

the final second and cheers from the balcony faded into the background as adam leaned forward and touched his lips lightly to hers; they were softer than he imagined, even with the layer of faded lipstick between them.

regina’s body instinctively arched closer to his as she sought to deepen the kiss, her hands scrambling for some part of his shirt she could hold on to. she barely registered that it was over all too soon as adam pulled back, her head spinning from the kiss in a good way.

“happy new year, detective,” he whispered hoarsely, resting his forehead against hers briefly before stepping back and walking away.

regina touched her lips to savor the pleasant tingling feeling the kiss had left behind. happy new year indeed.

* * * * * mentions: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @pearlsandsteel; @gloynporslen; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart; @writer-ish; @fhauvilles;

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themonkeycabal · 3 years

Text

WandaVision Ep 8 Spoilers

(THERE IS A MID-CREDITS SCENE, BTW)

Previously on WandaVision: It was Agatha all along.

This show has really come along well. I was worried after the first couple episodes, which were extremely slow, but it's tightened up and been entertaining as heck, in addition to being kind of a surprising meditation on grief and dealing or not dealing. You go along with wacky sitcom hijinks and then get whacked with the reminder so many things that have happened here are driven by terrible loss.

Anyway …. Acting Director Dick is Up To Something regarding Vision, and I fear we're all going to have to endure lots of his jackassery this episode. He's the not very fun part of this show, tbh. But we're getting down to it, so hopefully he gets his comeuppance sooner rather than later. And then on to deal with Agatha. Who is fabulously rotten. I love her, I have to say.

I guess this all leads into Doctor Strange 2, which I didn't know until Feige said it at the TCAs this week. So, that's something to look out for, too. Maybe everybody already knew that, but that was new to me, I think.

In happy news, nobody is power washing the sidewalks this morning. Hooray.

Creepy woods, a figure holding a flaming torch, Salem, Mass. 1693. Ah, Agatha's origin story. Burning at the stake. Or, maybe not. So far it's just being tied to one in the middle of a dark, creepy night.

"Agatha Harkness, are you a witch?" "Yes. I am a witch." "Yet, you have betrayed your coven." *gasp* Agatha!

She's been captured by her coven, because she stole knowledge, practiced dark magic, and other sundry evilities. But she says she's innocent, innocent, do you hear her! Oh, I guess not, "I did not break your rules, they simply bent to my power."

The lead witch is her mother, apparently. Since Agatha seems unrepentant, all the witches zap her with witchy magic or something. She screams a lot. But then her dark powers start drawing from the witches, sucking them dry. This is all very dramatic. Mom casts the final bolt, but Agatha is too powerful and she breaks free. All the other witches, except mom, have been grotesquely mummified.

Agatha swears she can be good, mom doubts. Mom zaps her again. Oh, whoops, Agatha drains mom next. She takes the broach from mom's desiccated corpse then zooms off into the sky in a burst of swirly purple magicy mist. The coven really didn't think that plan through all the way.

Present day, we're right where we left off, in Agatha's basement cavern of dark witches and nosy neighbors. Agatha is talking to her rabbit, Mr. Scratchy, and smirking at Wanda. "I know. She does look shocked to meet the real us, doesn't she?"

Wanda's eyes go glowy and Agatha laughs. "Oh, that's adorable. My thoughts are not available to you, toots."

Wanda wants to know where her children are, and Agatha mocks her about her reappearing/disappearing accent. Wanda tries to whammy her. "Huh, your magic's no good here." But Agatha's is. Agatha's no dummy, and now she's got Wanda magically trussed up in the center of the room.

"Didn't you notice? Basic protection spell? One on each wall? No? Nothing?" Hmm. Agatha, tbh, Wanda has like no idea what she's doing. So … "How do you not know the fundamentals?"

Wanda asks "Who are you?" and Agatha asks the same "Who are *you*? All those costumes and hairstyles. I was so patient, waiting for you to reveal your true self. I got close with fake Pietro — Fietro, if you will". Lol. I love her. She goes on about the magicy stuff she did to make Fietro "But you're so crippled by your own self doubt that you believed it. Oh Wanda."

"When I sensed this place, the afterglow of so many spells cast all at once, I couldn't make heads or tails of it." She shows off a mind control spell with some sort of big gross bug. Great. And has it fly at Wanda's face. Super awesome, Agatha. Oh, I see, she's going through the spells she thinks Wanda has cast, all the details, all the control of a whole town and all its storylines. Agatha's impressed and envious, "What's your secret, sister?"

Wanda says she didn't do anything and Agatha doesn't like that answer and tosses Wanda around. Now, see, Agatha, much as your coven underestimated you, I think your runic protection is only going to go so far before Wanda decides it doesn't.

"I tried to be gentle, to nudge you awake from this ridiculous fantasy. But, you'd rather fall apart than face your truth." Well, I mean. She's really been through a lot the last few weeks, Agatha. Like A LOT. Oh, and we're going to relive it. She's casting some sort of memory spell on Wanda, taking them back to the vast emptiness, endless nothing Wanda described to Fietro a couple weeks ago. You're not being very nice, Agatha.

"It's time to look at some real reruns." Wanda doesn't want to play along, but Agatha reminds her that she's got her children.

So, through the magic memory door they step, and into a tiny Sokovian apartment, with Wanda's parents. Her father apparently smuggled DVDs of "I Love Lucy" and "Bewitched". Didn't the people of Sokovia suffer enough? Well, he's got "The Addams Family", too. That's okay, I guess.

Little Pietro runs in reminding Mama and Papa that the only rule of TV night is you have to speak English. They call for Wanda and Agatha nudges her to step into the role of little Wanda. Papa says Wanda can pick what they're going to watch, but outside, there's gunfire. Except, I guess it's no big deal, Mama turns away from the window and the street battle below their apartment, while little Wanda says she wants to watch "The Dick Van Dyke Show", season 2, episode 21. Poor kid. Pietro agrees and moans, "Always sitcom, sitcom, sitcom!"

I'm waiting for the Stark Bomb to fall.

Little Wanda is far too enamored of "The Dick Van Dyke Show". Oh! There's the bomb. Pietro grabs her and they hide under the bed and they stare at the Stark Bomb. She and Pietro discuss what to do, while in the background, behind the bomb, the tv continues to play.

Little Wanda reaches out with her magic hand and then big Wanda is yanked out of the memory by Agatha, who demands to know if she stopped the bomb going off. "You used a probability hex?" Wanda says she didn't do anything, the bomb just never went off.

"So, what I see here is a baby witch, obsessed with sitcoms, and years of therapy ahead of her." lol, but harsh. "Where'd you get the big guns, Wanda?" A good question, Agatha. We never did get that answer before, really, did we? Just a sort of vague suggestion of "hydra did stuff to her and pietro maybe?".

"I don't want to go back there." "I know you don't. But it's good medicine, angel. The only way forward, is back."

Through another magic door we go.

Ha, I just paused and saw the title of the ep is "Previously On".

And into the Hydra lab. "Don't be scared, you already lived it once."

Oh, it's Loki's scepter. And the … whichever stone that is. I can't remember, totally lost track of them. Mind stone?

Wanda is in the containment unit with the scepter. The Hydra scientist wants her to do something with the scepter, and jr scientist says that no subject has survived this and lead scientist is like shut up and 'go ahead Wanda, it'll be totally fine'.

Wanda approaches the scepter and it starts to shake and the stone breaks free and flies at her, but then pauses and they stare at each other. She reaches out for it. Then the blue outer bit of the stone explodes off and underneath is the the yellow stone. Ok, yeah it is the Mind stone.

Lots of dramatic power stuff with Wanda and the stone. She sees a flying silhouetted figure in the light of the stone and then passes out. She survives! I mean, obviously. The Hydra scientists have her sent to isolation where they torture her by making her watch "The Brady Bunch". Well, no, I guess she likes it. Keep this under your hat, but if you ever want to break me, making me watch "The Brady Bunch" could probably do it.

The Hydra scientists meanwhile are trying to figure out what happened, watching the recordings over and over — they don't see the whole stone flying towards Wanda and the subsequent mind meld. She's just standing there, and then falls down.

Agatha sums this up for us "So, little Orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an Infinity Stone that amplified what otherwise would have died on vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up, buttercup. I have a theory, but I need more."

Door number three reveals her digs at the Avengers compound. She is, of course, watching TV. "Malcolm in the Middle." Well, it's better than "The Brady Bunch." The only thing I hate more than "The Brady Bunch" is "The Partridge Family."

"Where are we now?" "The Avengers compound. It was the first home Vision and I ever shared. Pietro was dead, and I was in a new country. I was all alone."

Vision enters through the wall, back when he didn't remember doors existed, and Wanda invites him to sit next to her and watch TV. "It's funny because of the grievous injury the man just suffered?" Vision doesn't get sitcoms either.

Vision sweetly tells her that if she wants to talk about what she's feeling, he'd like to know. "Should you wish to tell me. Should that be of some comfort to you." "What makes you think talking about it would bring me comfort?" "Well, I read a thing—" that's the Tony Stark part of Vision. "The only thing that would bring me comfort is seeing him again." Poor Wanda.

Vision has a little "I don't know how to respond to that" face journey that is subtle but made me laugh.

She apologizes to him. "It's just like this wave washing over me again and again." She says the wave will drown her, but Vision says it won't.

"It can't all be sorrow, can it?" IS2G if you two make me tear up this morning, I will … not do anything but be kind of annoyed. I have had the worst allergies the last couple of days, don't make me more snotty!

"I've always been alone, so I don't feel the lack. It's all I've ever known. I've never experienced loss, because I've never had a loved one to lose. What is grief, if not love persevering?" Damn you, Vision. At least I have a new box of tissues.

He sees something funny on the telly and laughs then apologizes. She laughs with him, though. "No, it was funny." They smile at each other, cutely awkward.

Even Agatha wipes at the corner of one eye. Though it could be annoyance. Hard to tell.

"So to recap: parents dead, brother dead, Vision dead." You're still a very mean person, Agatha. "What happened when he wasn't there to pull you back from the darkness, Wanda?"

Wanda doesn't want to play this game anymore. Agatha insists. "Tell me how you did it? Vision was gone, but you wanted him back."

Wanda sort of wakes up, "I wanted him back." Door number four takes us to SWORD's ridiculous and massive lobby. Really, what is with the stupidly enormous monitors hovering over the whole absurd place? So stupid. Nobody wants to watch the news that badly or bigly.

Wanda is walking through the lobby — SWORD's security sucks — but contrary to Acting Director Dick's version of the story, Wanda is politely asking the security guy where Vision is. And not throwing red woo-woos or anything. "Please, please. When I came back, he was gone. His body. And I know he's here. He deserves a funeral, at least. I deserve it."

Speaking of AD Dick. He seems to be watching this on the security feed, he calls the security desk and talks to the guard. Wanda spots the camera. But, security guy waves her through, gives her directions to wherever.

Security guy gets up to buzz Wanda in, but she says she's got it, and she opens the door herself. The footage AD Dick used to make her look like a terrorist. I mean, we knew he was a dick, so this is no surprise, but still. Jimmy! Arrest that asshole for aggravated assholery and general shadiness!

Anyway, Wanda's striding down hallways and as she comes even to the Director's door, the security light goes green and beeps so she goes into his office.

There’s polite introductions and whatever.

"I understand you're here to see the Vision. To recover his body." "Well, I'm his next of kin." "I understand." You're a lying sleazy snake who's been doing shady things with Vision's body. "I'd like to show you something?" "And then you'll give him to me?" No, because he's a scumbag.

He shows her a lab, she's confused, he says it's what she asked to see. And down in the lab are technicians taking Vision's body apart. Obviously, this is horrifying to her. What did Hayward expect to get from showing Wanda that? Like she'd be all "oh, hmm, how fascinating. Look, he's made of wires and such. By all means, cut my boyfriend's robot head off. For science"?

"What are you doing to him?" "We're dismantling the most sophisticated sentient weapon ever made." I think you're a liar pants, Dick. "It's our legal and ethical obligation."

"I just want to bury him. It's all I want." "Are you sure?" "Excuse me?" "Not everyone has the kind of power that could bring their soulmate back online — forgive me — back to life." You are such a sleaze, Dick. They can't get Vision to work again, so why not emotionally manipulate the grieving woman to do it for you. Gross. DIAF Dick.

"No, I can't do that. That's not why I'm here." "Okay, I can't allow you to take three billion dollars worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground." He's the worst. "The best I can do is let you say goodbye to him here."

"He's all I have." "Well, that's just it, Wanda; he isn't yours." Somebody needs to squash this guy like a bug. I don't care who. Wanda, obviously, deserves the honor most, but let her get on with her life, I say. Monica's probably the next best for sure. SOMEBODY THOUGH! Hand Darcy a wrench, she'll take care of it.

Where were we … Oh, Wanda's doing the head tilt of impending magical ass-kickery. She busts through the glass, drops down to the floor of the lab, and a security team runs out to point their guns at her. AD Dick tells them to fall back. Why, his plan's working just perfectly, no need to interfere with the woman he’s making suffer extra.

Wanda walks around Vision's body to his head. And she puts her hand over the giant hole where Thanos ripped out the mind stone. "I can't feel you." Every bit of this, for me, takes AD Dick from a generic loathsome character, to somebody actually disgusting. Do not like.

Wanda can't feel Vision at all, and she walks away, out of the room, out of the SWORD building, leaving the body behind. THIS IS VERY SAD, MARVEL.

She gets into her car, and in the passenger seat is an open envelope, like for a greeting card or something. And off she goes to Westview, New Jersey. A down-on-its-luck small town, full of sad looking people and dirty streets.

She pulls into the driveway of a property that's overgrown, with just a foundation, no house.

Damn you show. It wasn't an envelope, it was a real estate deed with a plan of the property with a red heart drawn on it, and the words "to grow old in. v." inside. What did Wanda do to deserve this? I mean, fine, she was in Hydra for like a minute, but she wasn't a true believer or anything, and she redeemed herself. Come on. Stupid Marvel, making all the things hurt.

She's crying, you're crying, I'm crying, everybody's crying, as she walks into the foundation of the home that never was. And then it all just comes pouring out of her in a great burst of red light and grief and power. Creating the sitcom world around her and swallowing Westview. Poor Wanda.

There. There's your answer, Agatha. Are you happy, you big meanie? Go turn AD Dick into a toad, or something, would you?

Hm, from her power, the yellow light of the mind stone starts to separate out, from back when she and it sort of had their moment in the Hydra lab, and out of that Vision is recreated or reborn or reconstituted or … whatever. Then they're in the black and white world of the first ep, and everything is perfect. Damn you, Marvel.

Real world Wanda looks up from where she's standing behind B&W Wanda and Vision and sees it's all just a TV show set. Agatha is in the audience, clapping. She vanishes and Wanda can hear Billy and Tommy screaming for her. She runs off set and into her front yard.

Out on the street, Agatha has the boys on magic leashes.

Agatha says she knows what Wanda is and that "You have no idea how dangerous you are." Well, keep holding her boys with magic ropes around their necks and we'll all find out. Agatha's gone full witchy here, she looks great.

"You're supposed to be a myth. A being capable of spontaneous creation. Here you are, using it to make breakfast for dinner." lol. Hey! I was actually thinking last night that I hadn't made waffles in a while. Breakfast for dinner is its own kind of magic, Agatha. (note to self: check we have syrup)

Wanda is pretty done with Agatha. She wants the boys released.

"Oh yes, your children. Vision. This whole little life you've made; this is chaos magic, Wanda. And that makes you … The Scarlet Witch!" DUN DUN DUN! CREDITS! !!!!

Well that was all very dramatic and sad. A really good episode, really good. Damn you, Marvel. Kathryn Hahn is great, absolutely love her.

Yes, there's a mid-credits scene, btw. F'in AD Dick, for what it's worth, finally putting his Genius Master Plan into action. What a dick. The biggest sack of tiny dicks you ever saw. No really, I hate this guy. I hope Wanda tears him a hundred new ones. Then sets what's left on fire. With her mind.

Also, he’s dumb. He can’t possibly think he can contain Wanda when she gets a look at his Genius Master Plan, can he? Is he that dumb? Probably, but couldn’t one of his little minions go “um, sir, she did almost defeat Thanos. I suspect this may end catastrophically for us.”

Do you suppose Darcy’s still stuck in traffic?

OH NO! There’s only one more episode left. I’m sad about that. This has turned out really quite good. Well done, show. Well done.

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wandavision liveblog

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