#offense taken jon

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 20

word count: 1066

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

April 22, 1989

Dear Will,

Prom is tonight. And I’m not going. It’s fine. I’m fine. I made up my mind a whole month ago and have been able to withstand the borderline harassment of our friends telling me that I’m gonna regret this decision for the rest of my life and would be better off just going without a date because it doesn’t matter if I have a date or not and it’s the experience that counts and Lucas said you’re going to be there so I should go too and fuck I regret this so much.

What time is it…? Why I’m writing down the question instead of just checking my fucking watch, I don’t know. It’s 5:30pm, prom starts at 6, and you probably haven’t left your house yet. And why I’m writing about the my suit being presentable enough instead of just going to my closet to check is so fucking counterproductive and

—

It was like a movie, the way I bolted out of the house in my dress slacks and suit jacket with half-tied converse, the laces billowing behind me in the wind as I biked through the neighborhood as fast as I could to your house. I should’ve just taken my car, but of course I had to bring all of my own rom-com fantasies to life. You know, like the Big Chase scene where the guy runs through the airport, praying that it isn’t too late to confess his love to the girl that nearly got away. But alas, I am no athlete, so this unfortunately came with the consequence of looking like a sweaty rat by the time I reached your driveway. Thankfully, you and El were still there, taking photos with Jonathan on the front steps. I haphazardly thrust my bike onto the curb and sprinted up to you as fast as my legs could carry me.

“Will!” I shouted, suddenly conscious of how I hadn’t prepared anything to say to you. My actions always have spoken louder than my words, which is concerning, considering the fact that I’m planning to become a writer once we’re out of high school. So I ran across your front lawn, and I stopped in my tracks when I noticed the surprised looks on Jonathan and El’s faces, the worried look on your own, and the confused expressions on Joyce and Hop’s.

“Hey, Mike,” Jonathan’s eyebrows furrowed together as I gasped for air.

“Hey, Jon,” I replied, leaning forward until my palms rested on my knees as I panted. I acknowledged everyone else, and then looked back up at you, standing back up and running my hand through my hair. The sweat clung to my hand, which I wiped on my slacks with a grimace. “Hey,” I said, “Yeah, so, uh– Will. Dude. Buddy. Do you want to go to the prom with me?”

There was a beat of silence that followed, and I felt the urge to cut my own tongue out. Before I could actually act on my impulse, you walked down the stairs and took a few more steps in my direction. “I thought you weren’t going,” you said, crossing your arms against your chest. I shook my head, shoving my hands in my pockets.

“I changed my mind. Lucas told me–” I began, but trailed off before I gave myself away. You could never know about how Lucas convinced me to go to prom on the sole basis of your attendance. That would’ve been humiliating.

“He told you what?” you prompted me to continue, taking another step forward so we were less than a foot apart.

“Just that everyone else was going, and that I was a weirdo for not wanting to go as well.”

“He’s not wrong,” you smirked up at me, and I lightly smacked your shoulder, feigning offense. “But, like,” you went on, “now that you’re actually coming to prom with us, doesn’t that mean you’re going with me already?”

Against my better judgment, I reached out and adjusted your shirt collar against the lapels of your suit. You looked up at me in mild shock, but hey, at least I didn’t kiss you. “I mean, I was asking if you wanted to go to prom with me as my date.”

Your face turned a beautiful shade of pink, and you stammered out, “I–I’m not sure if we’d be allowed to do that.”

“Come on,” I pleaded, “We’d be going as friends, they can’t kick us out for that.”

Another moment of silence bloomed between us like the yellow flower in your jacket pocket. You picked at your nails in contemplation. “Fine,” you relented with a smirk, “I guess I could go as your prom date… buddy.”

“I just know you’re never gonna let me live that down,” I whined, and you just laughed.

“Damn straight,” you agreed, and I refrained from making a gay joke on account of, oh I don’t know, outing myself. You put my bike in your garage while I was caught up on the plan for transportation, which was Lucas’ parents’ minivan, which would be there in a few minutes to pick us up. Needless to say, everyone was shocked when I climbed into the van.

Prom was pretty lame, and we all ended up leaving early and going back to your house, but I honestly don’t give a single flying fuck, because we actually got to dance together. I repeat: we actually got to dance together. The music had slowed down, everyone was finding their respective dates, and I was just about to leave the dance floor for my impending Closet Pity Party™ when you grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer to you and placing your hands on my hips. “What’s the point of prom if you don’t have at least one slow dance?” you asked, and I tried my best to appear as nonchalant as possible by shrugging. Meanwhile, I was, like, one second away from dying of happiness. It was dark enough I could get away with putting my hands on your shoulders, and you became a bit more confident with the way your hands gripped my waist as we swayed back and forth to the music. I’m grinning so hard while writing this. I think this has been the best night of my life by far. I hope this feeling lasts forever.

Love,

Mike

-

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#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

[to-the-stars8]

Affairs and Letters

Jason Todd x Reader Regency AU! AO3 Chapters

Part IX

Mr. Todd was suddenly aware of one fatal flaw of his when kissing you, and that was he would move heaven and Earth all for you. A weakness he could well surrender to. 

“Mr. Todd,” You had gasped between kisses. He had no thought upon hearing his name pass your lips. It made him feel like a well-kept secret that he wanted you, and only you, to know. When you had turned your head from his kiss, Mr. Todd felt terrified that he had committed some unforgivable offense. No greater monster could scare him than the thought of you thinking so ill of him. 

“Forgive me, forgive me,” Mr. Todd said quickly. 

You shook your head. “Hush, let me listen.”

Confused, he inquired what you meant, but you ignored him. For a moment, he thought that you were afraid that someone might be listening in on the two of you, and he attempted to assure you that no one was. You refused to hear his words, shaking your head as you slipped from his grasp. He was quick to follow close behind you, smelling your perfume as he did, saying again that he meant no offense if one was caused. 

Alas, you refused to hear him, ignoring anything he had to say as you attempted to find some way out of his sight. You yearned for him, and you had realized it quickly, but duty had to come before love. Good gracious, you thought momentarily at the realization of how severely you had been carried away, what would Sir Kent think—Worse, what would Lady Kent think? Lady Kent had a mouth the size of the entire county and was too loud, yet you held no opinion of her. 

Suddenly your name was called again and it was loud—Urgently loud. You and Mr. Todd paused, turning to the salon right down the hall. Your legs moved faster than his, practically running toward a young man’s voice calling your name. 

“What is it,” You cried upon entering, seeing Jon on the floor surrounded by his brother and two of the other Wayne children, Damian and Timothy. “Jon!”

Connor was quick to explain what had happened. The four of them had been playing cards when Jon started to complain of a sudden chill. Eventually, the boy had been so out of sorts that, when it came to his turn, he simply fell over. You pressed your hand upon Jon’s forehead and noted that it was hot to the touch. 

“Connor, go retrieve your mother and father,” You ordered. “Tell them that Jon has come down with a fever. Go, now!” 

The young man flew from the room in a hurry, exclaiming that he would be back quickly. Mr. Todd knelt by your side, already looping his arms around Jon’s small frame. Before you could react, he assured you that all would be well. 

“Tim, Damian, go tell Mr. Pennyworth that he should send for the apothecary,” said he. “Come, Miss, we will take him to his room. The poor lad must have been fighting this fever for days.” 

You followed Mr. Todd, reaching around him to move sweaty parts of black hair from Jon’s face. There was no lie, your heart was in tatters at the sight of the poor boy suffering so much. Perhaps, if you were there sooner, you would have been more attentive to Jon’s sudden condition. 

When Mr. Todd set Jon down on his bed, you were quick to get him out of his outerwear so he would not overheat due to the fever. Mr. Todd left the room, and you attributed his sudden absence to being done with the issue entirely. It nearly had you reeling on the feeling of ever having taken his affections so open-heartedly until he returned with a bowl of water and a washcloth. 

“Here,” He said, wringing out the water into the bowl. “It is cool, dab it on his forehead and neck.”

You took the rag, dabbing it over Jon’s forehead, Mr. Todd squeezed your shoulder in assurance. He whispered that all would be well again, and your heart fluttered. You shook off his touch, turning to focus on your charge.

As soon as the coolness was upon him, Jon’s eyes fluttered open. Not once could you recount a time when you had been so happy to see blue eyes before that very moment. The boy smiled up at you, eyes twinkling with familiarity. 

“I feel ill,” He said weakly. 

You could not help but laugh. “Why did you not speak of your condition sooner?”

“I—I wanted to see my friend. Father would not let us leave home if I was sick,” Jon's smile turned into a pout. 

Before you could speak Lady Kent burst into the room so distraught that upon seeing her son flushed with sickness set upon knowing every detail of what had happened. You tried your best to relay the information Connor had given you and stated that Jon gave no hint of even being the slightest bit sick. Her disposition turned to sorrow quickly upon seeing the tears in her son's eyes. 

“Why—Why are you crying, my love,” Lady Kent asked. 

Jon sniffled, “I do not want you to be cross with me, Mother.”

His mother pressed a kiss upon his head, “I am not, my love. I am worried for your health since someone took a reprieve from her duties so to heart.”

As you stared at the scene before you you could not have felt a greater sense of disappointment. Jon’s being sick was not something you were keen on missing, and you were angry at yourself as well as Mr. Todd. Perhaps if he wasn’t so intent on this infatuation with you, then then this would not have happened. Still, you were not entirely blameless. Somehow, even being so upset with Jason, he managed to keep in your good graces. You wished to know if it was the yearning to love or some sort of subconscious rebelling that had you holding him close.

At the knock at the door, the apothecary stepped in and relief seem to flush through the room. Mr. Todd looked at you, eyes holding a longing that told you he yearned to hold you, but you could not return it in fear of someone noticing, no matter how much you wished for him to come to you. Mr. Wayne ushered everyone out, stating that the apothecary needed privacy as well as the family. 

When you stepped out into the hall, now all too aware of how distant you truly were from the Kents, you searched for some comfort. Mr. Wayne had told you to rest, that after such stress all your nerves must need some compassion, so you took his advice. 

Upon entering your room, you left the door open so Mr. Todd, who you knew was well behind you, leaned against the door frame when he found you. 

“How are you feeling,” said he, not daring to take a step inside your room. 

You were hesitant to answer, “I do not know, Mr. Todd.”

“How odd,” He tried to jest. “If not you, then who better to ask, hm?”

There was an attempt to laugh, but it died before it could leave your lips. You looked up at Mr. Todd in all his beauty. It was difficult to not notice it, and even more so when you held such a partiality toward him. 

“Mr. Todd—Jason, I…I feel as though I am to blame for Jon’s condition,” You confessed. “If I had been more attentive…” You meant to say distracted but found you could not shame Mr. Todd. 

Jason scoffed, “The boy had admitted himself that he hid his illness so he could play with my brother. It was not your fault, so do not blame yourself for it.”

“That is very difficult, Mr. Todd,” You said, trying to smile. “The Kents treat me very well, I assure you, but Jon’s whole being has been mine to keep since the boy could walk. I am responsible for him in every way.”

“He is  fortunate to have someone who loves him so, but it is a pity it has to be you.”

You shook your head, smiling down at your hands. “That has been my job for so long, what else am I to do, sir?”

The answer seemed to come so easy to him, “That is up to you, I believe.”

#regency au #regency jason todd #regency romance #regency drama #jane austen #jason todd x reader #jason todd #romance #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood x reader #batfamily #bruce wayne #clark kent #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd and bruce wayne #jon kent #jonathan kent #lois lane #clois #kal el #lois and clark #damian wayne #tim drake #damian al ghul #batfam #dick grayson

[famousfilmsfan]

Bryan; I developed a theory. Fazbear Dementia. Basically when a human is stuck in an animatronic suit for months or even years the memories of being human and an animatronic begin to blur together. Making them change wildly in behavior, as well as messing with their sense of judgment, causing random mood swings, and drastically messing with their intelligence.

Molten: that’s ridiculous. You have no proof.

Bryan: Really? Afton was in that suit for 30 years. Think about it

Season 1

Molten: Boss? Can i ask something?

Springtrap: What?

Molten: Why do you wanna kill Bryan? I mean he’s an idiot but you can't kill someone just for that.

Springtrap: I have my reasons, they don't concern you

Molten: If i’m gonna be forced to help you, I should at least know why.

Springtrap: I don't have to explain myself to you!

Molten:…you don't remember why you want to kill him don't you?

Springtrap: What? I can so remember why I want to kill him

Molten; Then tell me

Springtrap: That isn't relevant!

Molten: Whatever old man

Springtrap. What was that?!

Molten: Nothing

Molten: why are we wasting time building a saw trap for Bryan? He’s in another state can't you just do your plan now while he isn't here?

Springtrap: No! I need to torture him for being selfish! And teach him a lesson

Molten: You’re going to teach him a lesson in being selfish by making him kill his animatronic to save himself, without any other option?

Springtrap: Yes.

Molten: Why not give him a not selfish option so he can learn a lesson

Springtrap: You’re not the brains of this operation now shut up!

Springtrap; Go away Micheal i’m busy!

Molten: I’m not Micheal.

Springtrap: Whatever.

Molten: Why do we need Jon to betray Bryan? Jon isn't even helping in the slightest.

Springtrap: He is helping us get stuff on Bryan.

Molten; I’m getting stuff on Bryan. I hacked into his computer, his phone everything. Jon isn't doing sh*t I think you just wanted to mentally torment someone for fun and to cause conflict in Bryans friendships.

Springtrap: What did I say about talking back? Besides I can make Jon CEO

Molten: You can do Jack Sh*t. The company thinks you’re dead you have zero input in those decisions.

Springtrap: Says you.

Molten: Says the guy on the phone who laughed when you called and asked to speak to the CEO and wanted to tell him to pack his stuff so some stupid jester guy with no qualifications whatsoever can take over. No offense Jon.

Jon: None taken. I have no idea what that was supposed to accomplish.

Springtrap: Put Bryan in the bathroom filling with gas so we can kill him!

Molten: If you want him dead I can just snap his neck now

Springtrap: Not now. Later

Molten: Why not now? He’s on the floor unconscious.

Springtrap: We have to wait for the perfect time

Molten: now is the perfect time to kill him!

Springtrap: Whatever! Go to your spot over the easily breakable glass over the lava that can easily destroy you.

Molten; Ugh. And you call Bryan Dramatic

Springtrap: What was that?!

Molten: Nothing!

#thefamousfilms #fnaf 6 #mcfnafverse

[esther-dot]

i've been thinking about all the rhaegar/lyanna theories (did she go willingly or was she kidnapped, etc.) and one thing i don't think gets discussed often enough is the time lag between when lyanna disappeared and when jon was conceived.

jon was born more than a year and a half after lyanna disappeared (she disappeared at the beginning of 282 AC, and he was born mid-to-late 283 AC). that means that he was conceived roughly a year after lyanna's disappearance. that year included the deaths of her father and brother at rhaegar's father's hand, rhaegar's father calling for the head of her second brother, a continent-wide war that rhaegar was taking no part in, rhaegar apparently having no contact with elia and taking no measures to protect her and her children, and lyanna being stuck in a random tower in the middle of nowhere.

whatever lyanna felt at the time of her disappearance, i simply can't conceive that she felt positively toward rhaegar one year later, at the time that jon was conceived. i just don't see her being a wholehearted participant in jon's conception. i think "lyanna left willingly" and "lyanna was raped" could both be true.

Ah, now that is an important detail. It certainly is hard to believe Lyanna was willing at that point. But that reminds me of the entire Knight of the Laughing Tree side of this convo, that I neglected to mention.

It was a good story, Bran decided after thinking about it a moment or two. "Then what happened? Did the Knight of the Laughing Tree win the tourney and marry a princess?"

"No," said Meera. "That night at the great castle, the storm lord and the knight of skulls and kisses each swore they would unmask him, and the king himself urged men to challenge him, declaring that the face behind that helm was no friend of his. But the next morning, when the heralds blew their trumpets and the king took his seat, only two champions appeared. The Knight of the Laughing Tree had vanished. The king was wroth, and even sent his son the dragon prince to seek the man, but all they ever found was his painted shield, hanging abandoned in a tree. It was the dragon prince who won that tourney in the end." (ASOS, Bran II)

So someone who deactivated once told me that their supposition was that Rhaegar sided with Lyanna over his father here. He found out it was her, promised not to tell, gave her the roses to honor her. To everyone else it was offensive / signaled romantic intent, to Lyanna, it could have been taken as an acknowledgment of her skills/what she'd done. That would have allowed Rhaegar to earn her trust, ingratiate himself, but also, signaled a break with his father.

We don't know how he framed things to her later, if he hyped up his plan to get rid of his dad, if he led her to believe he'd actually truly broken with his father and wouldn't side with him/fight against her family, if he convinced her he was as much a hapless victim as she had felt she was. Taking her all the way to Dorne could have been part of convincing her he was helping her escape her marriage, and that he was escaping his father. Depending, he could have created a lot of space between him and his dad. And then of course, in canon, when Robb believes he's lost Rickon and Bran, he seeks comfort in someone's arms.

Now, I'm not saying that is what happened, but there are ways to write this story without forcible rape, and based on how Rhaegar is characterized, I think that's where Martin would try to land. I do think she was a prisoner at some point, I think this is a Rhaegar-critical story, but I'm not sure that Martin is going in that particular direction.

There is also that first convo about Lyanna:

"She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean." "I was with her when she died," Ned reminded the king. "She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father." He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was … fond of flowers." The king touched her cheek, his fingers brushing across the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh. "I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to her." (AGOT, Eddard I)

This is couched in the idea that Robert loved her, Rhaegar kidnapped and raped her, they're talking about where to bury her, so the first time we read it, we're guided to believe Lyanna is begging to come home, but now we know, Lyanna was begging for Jon's life.

(That is not to say she didn’t want to come home, of course she did, I’m just pointing out the misdirection about what her pleas were about).

So, when I reread that passage with the idea that Lyanna left willingly (which I think is the implication of the revelations that Bran receives) and she was begging for her son's life out of fear of what Robert might do, we realize that while Rhaegar is the villain in Robert's story, Robert is the villain in Lyanna's. Robert stands there speaking of his love for a woman who died terrified of what he might do to her child. And rather than being able to hate the man who demanded that fear, Ned loves him, has to serve him, and rather than hating Rhaegar or thinking ill of him, he has a weirdly neutral opinion (link).

In that little scene, we know have the conflict of POVs, the way these characters are torn by loves and loyalties, the fact that Lyanna's enemy is Ned's best friend/"brother"/king, the fact that he takes the son of his enemy and calls him his own. The layers of pain here, the conflicts of his loves, that is one of the beautiful aspects of the series imo, and I believe the mystery Martin has been writing about throughout each book, in most POVs will have that same complexity.

At the same time, I hate Rhaegar and if he is a kidnapper/rapist, it would be very Targy of him. Can't eliminate the possibility!

While writing this I remembered a post I thought tried to give a balanced view of things, worked to reconcile the characterization and the events of R/L which you might like to read (link). I also really appreciate this breakdown of whether or not Lyanna could give meaningful consent (link).

#anti rhaegar #dot chat

[maddies-chronicles]

backstory - inheritance games DR

hm okay realizing a lot of my DR moms are unintentionally dead. so let's pull a reversal and say my mom is secretly alive in this DR. i'll figure out why later, but for now just note that she is, in fact, alive. but for some reason, i don't know yet.

anyway, i was taken in by my older brother and sister, jonathan and clary. we live paycheck to paycheck, mostly because jon didn't go to uni, and clary's like nineteen at most (and can't afford to go to uni). i'm still in high school, but i'm top of my class, scoring straight 100s in everything. also we live in canada, because i said so. also, i'm moving the hawthornes out of texas (sorry nash) because i hate texas a lot actually. i had a friend who was texan and him and his secret political beliefs ruined the entire state for me. so now the hawthornes live in victoria, british columbia, mostly because i don't want to be american 🤢 (no offense to americans but i am so genuinely afraid of your country. also i would miss tims and dollarama and shit like that).

so, i go across the country to meet the hawthornes and i live out the plot of book one. i'm scripting out emily because lwk hate that bitch. also, i feel like gray and jamie really don't need that extra trauma.

book two is tricky because of the familial dynamics. i'll work it out later.

book three kind of hinges on book two, but also i really hate eve. like i know i'm supposed to sympathize with her, but i just don't.

#shifting #reality shifting #shifting community #shifting realities #reality shift #shifting antis dni #shifters #desired reality #shift #shiftblr

[bellysoupset]

TW: discussions of chronical vertigo and depression. Not as angsty as this makes it seem, actually.

********

"Biscuits?" Jonah eyed the biscuits Leo planted before him warily. They had the greyish tone of healthy food that normally Jonah didn't mind, but that did very little today to calm down his stomach.

Ever since the shitshow of passing out on Vince, he had done some more investigating, only to come to the, frankly offensive, diagnosis of having labyrinthitis. Wasn't that just grand?

There was no actual cure, seeing as they came and went unexpectedly, but they weren't life threatening, just fucking annoying. The medication to get rid of a spell wasn't any better and while it didn't make him puke, it certainly put him off his appetite, which was what brought him to the current predicament of not eating for a whole day and his boyfriend's unfazed, blue stare.

"Yeah, biscuits," Leo shrugged, "I figured you'd be sick of saltines by now."

It was so sweet, Jonah wanted to cry. He blamed it on his overwhelmed emotions at being sick, shoved the desire as deep as he could and glared at the plastic jar, "I'll try them later."

"Try one now," Leo pushed, a little harder, a lot less sweet, "you need to get your strength back if you're planning to play by Saturday."

Jonah frowned, the vestiges of nausea all but forgotten, "but I'm not..." he stared at Leo, suddenly feeling uneasy.

Leo had been in a fury ever since his diagnose. Not quite doing the smothering mother henning that Lucas did, but almost. Part of Jonah had relished in that, he enjoyed knowing his boyfriend loved and cared for him, even enjoyed being babied a little bit... But something was off.

Something in the way Leo was furiously taking care of him wasn't like the previous times he had gotten sick near the guy, and that wasn't just because they were dating now. Something had changed and Jonah couldn't put his finger on it.

"The episode will have completely vanished by then," Leo shrugged, circling Jonah on the kitchen, in order to put away his bag on the couch.

"Leo," Jonah frowned, sitting up straight.

"And Luke said you could play," Leo continued, unbothered, which caused Jon to roll his eyes at him.

"Lucas is not the coach, you know?"

"Coach Eric doesn't do anything," Leo snorted, then walked back into the kitchen area, planting a kiss to Jonah's temple, "have a biscuit."

"Leo," Jonah grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. There was a manic glint in Leo's eyes, "I'm not playing Saturday."

"Aren't you feeling well?" Leo frowned, made a pitiful pouty face and his hands were immediately on Jonah's face, as if somehow he could feel the vertigo the same way he felt a fever.

"I'm fine," Jonah grabbed his wrists, stopping the fussing, "it's not- Leo, it's not just Saturday that I'm not playing, c'mon... You know that."

Jonah knew he had fucked up before the words were fully out of his mouth. He didn't know why or how, but he knew he had messed up. Leo pulled back, blinking as if he had been slapped, a wrinkle between his brows.

"The doctor said you could live life normally, Jon," he shook his head, "no, babe, look- I know it's been a rough couple of days-"

"It's not that," Jonah was beyond confused. He had been sure that his boyfriend was on the same page as him. Not just because of the vertigo, but because of how extraneous practice had become, how much he had to dedicate himself to the hospital duties too. Leo knew all of that... "Leo, you know I never wanted to be a professional football player, c'mon..."

"No, I know, I just-" Leo sounded completely taken back, which was more confusing than upsetting. Jonah frowned at him, watching as flashes of confusion, anger and annoyance all mingled together, "Yeah, I knew, sorry..."

There was a horrible, pregnant pause. Jonah almost apologized and took his words back. Leo looked painfully confused, wounded too.

"Leo?" He broke the horrible silence, unable to keep this for much longer, "say something?"

"It's nothing, I-" Leo shrugged, pulling back, a huge step backwards like he wanted to run out of the kitchen, "I'm just gonna, uh- I have an essay to finish, so yeah- I think I'm just gonna do that."

"Leo, say something about what we're talking," Jonah glared at him, "c'mon, I know-"

"I don't think it's my place - If you don't want to play, then don't play," the last sentence turned incredibly cold and Leo looked as surprised by it as Jonah felt. He sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm just gonna go finish my essay, alright? We can... I don't know, talk later."

Jonah frowned, but didn't say anything, watching as his boyfriend walked out of the kitchen and into the living room area, opening his bag once more. He got his headphones out, then kicked off his sneakers in order to put his feet on the couch, laptop open on his lap and concealing Leo's face from view.

Jonah glared at his concealed form, then back at the biscuit's jar, opening it and grabbing one. He started to nibble on it, figuring it was as good a time as any to text coach Eric to let him know that he'd need to actually show up for his office hours tomorrow.

Coach wasn't as big an issue as Lucas would be, Jonah thought bitterly, sending the text without proof reading and then checking his schedule once more. He was booked for tomorrow's hospital shift, straight after class. It wasn't the best arrangement, but with that flu that was going around they had doctors' and interns dropping like flies, everyone's schedules were messed up.

Wendy wasn't even fully back yet, her own turn with the virus had been pretty brutal from what Vince had mumbled when they met quickly at the hallway.

"Jon..."

"What?" Jonah didn't look up from his phone. He knew it wasn't right to be angry at Leo, but in the other hand... Really? That petty toddler behavior over something that should've been more of an issue for Jonah himself than for Leo?

That was simply childish and unnecessary.

"Fuck," Leo breathed out and Jonah frowned at the uncharacteristic swear, looking up in time to see the blonde snap the laptop closed and turn around on the couch, legs spread out-

"Leo?" Jonah's heart plummeted to his stomach and he jumped up, remaining dizziness be damned, "Leo, what's wrong?"

He was by his side in less than a second, skipping to the couch, and just in time for Leo to shake his head, shoving Jonah off when he attempted to touch him and rush up.

He all but ran off to the closest bathroom, the guest one, slamming the door closed. Through it, Jonah could hear his violent gagging. Jon grimaced at the prospect, but his worry overrode the nausea that was already starting to pool in his stomach.

He could get sick after he made sure Leo was okay.

"Leo?" Jonah knocked on the closed door, "I'm coming in-"

"N-no," Leo's voice was a broken mess, thick with tears, "just- Just leave me alone!"

That made Jonah feel twice as sick as before. He leaned forward, forehead to the door, "baby, I don't care about the puke, just let-"

"Go away, Jonah!" he shouted, only for a painful gasp to follow and cause Jon to ignore his order.

"No, fuck you," he scoffed, opening the door and bracing for the worst. Much to his surprise, Leo wasn't vomiting. He was hunched over the toilet and gagging, yes, but there was no puke and no smell of it.

More importantly, he was sobbing.

"What the fuck, Leo?" Jonah whispered, crouching down next to him and cupping his forehead, expecting to feel a fever, "did you get the bug-"

He was interrupted by another wheezy breath, sucked in with difficulty and followed by a gag. Leo clutched at his chest, hands shaking and Jonah noticed he wasn't warm at all. If anything he felt cold to the touch, trembling all over.

"Leo?"

"I don't- Please, jus'just leave..." he slurred, pressing his eyes closed, "I just need a minute..."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what is this!" Jonah snapped, his temper quickly flaring up, patience running thin with playing sickness charades, "are you nauseous? Why are you crying, is this a migraine?"

Leo's eyes were even bluer thanks to the fact his corneas were bloodshot from crying. He glared at Jonah, forcing out a breath, "it's just- Shit, shut up, Jon."

Jonah's mouth snapped closed, but still he didn't pull back. He had meant it, he wasn't going anywhere. The annoyance he felt being snapped at didn't even compare to his worry.

They waited, for what felt like an eternity, but Jonah knew had been just about ten minutes, until Leo could sit up straight. He leaned his head back, wiping the tears off his face with the back of his sweater and causing Jonah to cringe, but still the other man didn't say anything.

"Are y-"

"It was just a panic attack, I'm fine," Leo's voice wavered, but the emotion in it was clear. Frustration, "I'm fine, you can go."

I'm not going anywhere, was what Jonah wanted to say, but instead what came out was, "this is my fucking bathroom, you can't kick me out."

Leo scoffed, sniffling again, "yeah, okay, I'll go then-"

"You're not going anywhere either," Jonah stood up in a jump, blocking the door, feeling momentarily woozy. He grabbed the sink, noticed Leo's eyes latching to his hand squeezing the marble, "you're going to tell me what the fuck happ-"

"You're going to break up with me," Leo's voice wavered and Jonah's mouth dropped in a comical O, too shocked to be able to retort, "and I just- I don't think I can... I can't."

"Can't- Leo, what. the fuck. are you talking about?!" Jonah cried out, "you sound insane, you've been acting like a maniac ever since I got sick, I just- What the hell is happening!?"

"You're going to quit the team!" Leo yelled back at him, rubbing a hand uneasily over his chest, "and you don't even like hanging out with me, you like- You like fancy museums and art galleries and- and Wendy-"

"Not again with the Wendy jealousy fit, Leo-"

"It's not about her, it's about you! You don't like hanging out with us," Leo glared at him, shoving a finger on Jonah's chest, "right? You don't bother hiding it, I might be the exception that proves the rule right, but that's bound to change."

Jonah wasn't following. Whatever Leo's overly stimulated brain was doing, was too much mental gymnastics to compete, "Leo, I'm not- I'm not understanding..."

"You're- The only reason you hang out with us is because you're on the team and now you're quitting it and I won't see you anymore and- And then we're never gonna see each other and you'll just meet some other doctor, who doesn't- Who's not a mess like I am and who can tell the difference between a dry and a sweet wine and..."

"Leo..." Jonah sighed, "baby, you can't honestly believe this-"

"And it's not just you," Leo's voice caught up, turned all strangled, "I graduate at the end of the year and I just thought- I thought I had more time... I'm not- I'm not ready-"

"Leo," Jonah stepped closer, yanking at his shirt and stopping him from talking, pressing his forehead to his, "Leo, breathe."

Leo's bottom lip quivered and he sucked in another difficult breath, clearly struggling not to burst into tears all over again.

"Listen to yourself, baby," Jonah sighed, cupping his face and stopping him from pulling back, "If I quit the team I'll have more free time for us, not the opposite way around..."

"No, you won't, because I'll still be practicing-"

"Yeah and I'll do my classwork during practices, so we can hang out in the hours I'd usually be doing that," Jonah stroked his cheek without thinking, feeling the start of a beard prickle his fingers, "and even if I wasn't, I am not going to break up with you. Yeah, I like art galleries and museums and you like to get drunk with the guys and hockey, but believe it or not we're not the first couple to have different tastes."

Leo let out a scoff, "Jonah, you're not taking me seriou-"

"I am," Jonah interrupted, glaring at him, "I am taking you seriously, I am listening to you. We aren't going to break up because I'm out of the team, Leo. I mean, I love you, this has to count for something... Right?"

The blonde shrugged, glancing down, "I love you too... I love this- This life we have, Jon, I'm not ready for it to be over..."

"Leo," Jon sighed, pulling back so he could look at him squarely, "everything is going to change, but this doesn't have to, you have to know that. You, me... Even the guys, I mean, God knows I've been trying to get rid of Lucas for years now and he won't let go," Jonah smiled as he saw a twinkle in Leo's eyes. A hopeful one, "this doesn't have to be over, it'll just be different."

"Can you promise that?" Leo sighed, nodding and crumpling against him, causing Jonah to let out a huff, pulling into a tight hug, that felt way more intimate then sex or kissing.

"Yeah, I can, actually."

#maim kill it turned fluffy at the end #oh well #sickfic #mywriting #leo wagner #leo x jonah

[hauntedhotel]

It's 8:30 in the morning, I've only had one cup of coffee and I am chewing the walls over your tags on the time travel post! 😭 I just think s1 Jon needs a little kiss on the head.

Jon sulking in his office, wondering why it even matters if his assistants like him or not, this is his job, he's here to work not to make friends, he doesn't even care if they all like his future self more than they like him.

But he's in here, alone, stewing about it so obviously he cares a little bit.

And why wouldn't they like him better, he's confident and competent and so secure in himself, plus he might have...super powers, or something? Obviously they would prefer that kind of Jon to the mess they're stuck with now.

He doesn't care, it doesn't matter, he isn't even thinking about it.

He's just debating whether or not to get on with things and record another statement or sneak outside for a stress-smoke when his office door opens and slams closed again, and Martin stares at him sheepishly.

"Sorry, I know you're busy, I just need somewhere to hide from your future self for a second-oh...no offense."

"Oh," Jon says softly, surprised. "N-none taken. He's ah...slightly insufferable, isn't he?"

"Slightly?" Martin starts to sit down on the other side of Jon's desk, and then freezes, eyeing Jon nervously as if expecting to be ordered out of the room. Jon gives the chair a jerky nod, and Martin sinks down the rest of the way. "He's kind of doing my head in, to be honest. He keeps...staring at me with his...laser vision."

A very undignified snort of laughter bursts out of Jon, and Martin stares at him in shock, before a hesitant smile lights his own face.

"You know what I mean though? Like he's...I don't know, trying to set you on fire with his mind or something?"

"I'm fairly certain that isn't one of his powers," Jon says, although he supposes it's possible. That's concerning - the archives don't have sprinklers and there's an awful lot of dry paper in here. "You don't think..." Jon hesitates; he should tell Martin to get back to work, to stop wasting Jon's time and his own, that Jon-from-the-future might be...unnerving, but he's full of information that can almost certainly help them.

He doesn't, because it turns out...good lord...he does care whether his assistants like him or not, even Martin.

"What?" Martin prompts, gently.

"You don't think he's...I don't know...he seems to know what he's doing? He's very..." Jon chews his lip thoughtfully. Confident? Powerful? The opposite of a person mid-nervous breakdown over a promotion he doesn't deserve to a job he has no idea how to do? There's no way to end that sentence that doesn't rip something mortifying out of Jon and hold it up for Martin to see, to judge him for.

Martin huffs.

"Smug?" He suggests. "Pompous? Full of himself? Kind of a self-righteous muppet?"

Jon laughs again, properly this time, and tries to ignore the flood of relief suddenly warming his chest.

"He's trying to help," he says, not sure why he's half-heartedly defending the future self he kind of hates, and ignoring the little voice at the back of his mind saying he just wants Martin to keep calling him names.

"I mean...he is helping, a bit, when you get him to stop talking in stupid riddles. Sasha and Tim are taking it in turns to talk to him."

"They...uh...they don't like him either?"

"No! Tim said he was creepy and Sasha-" He stops, and pulls a face. "Sorry, I shouldn't be...I mean...he's you, isn't he? Sort of? I feel like I shouldn't be telling you that we keep taking it in turns to hide from your future self."

"I...well...he's...one possible version of me, I suppose. We're not the same person, not yet."

"Hopefully you never will be," says Martin, with surprising force. Jon thinks of all the horrifying things that happened to his future self to make him what he is, and somewhere deep inside Jon is a little fluttering feeling at the thought of Martin wanting to protect him from it. Hmm.

"Hey," says Martin, pulling Jon back into reality and away from the dangerous precipice of introspection. "He said - the um, the other Jon - he said he needed to get some work done by himself later, some stuff he doesn't want us to know about yet. We were going to go to the pub for some lunch - just get out of here for a little bit...you fancy it?"

Jon stares at him for a second, deliberating. They do this every so often, the three of them - when the weather brightens up and they feel like getting out of the basement into some natural light, or when one of them has had to deal with a particularly gruesome statement, or when Elias has been into the Archives twice in one morning. They used to invite Jon; Tim would poke his head into Jon's office and ask if he fancied a pint or a pub lunch or some fresh air and natural light. After weeks or Jon saying no, they eventually gave up.

Martin raises his eyebrows, and gives Jon a little, lop-sided smile; it brings out a little dimple in his left cheek.

There's something about Martin that sets Jon on edge - always has, from the beginning, all the way back to the thing with the dog. No one is this nice, this gentle and persistent in caring about someone who definitely doesn't deserve it...and kindness has always sat awkwardly inside Jon, unfamiliar and aching.

But...he's just sitting here, in Jon's office, patient and unhurried and offering Jon yet more kindness. And he thinks future Jon is a smug git.

"Yes," he says, eventually. "Why not?"

As they pile out of the institute and into the tentative sunlight, Sasha takes a big deep breath and Tim slings an arm around Jon's shoulder.

"Finally, an hour of freedom with the Jon that's only a little bit insufferable," he says, but he gives Jon a bit of a squeeze as he says it, and when they arrive at the pub Sasha puts a pint of Guinness in front of him without having to ask what he wants, and Martin nags him into ordering something substantial for lunch, and for the first time since he stepped into the archives weeks ago and had to force down a panic attack, they feel almost like a team, almost like they're friends, and Jon feels something close to safe.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jmart #peachyindeed #sorry #i accidentally wrote a fic in the answer to this ask #i got carried away!

[aegor-bamfsteel]

Isn't using boiling oil on enemies in the battle cruel move and inhuman? In asoiaf it's used by Jon to defend the Wall from the Wildlings. Loras was suffered severe burns after being doused with boiling oil during seige of dragonstone.

Is it pleasant? Of course not. But you said it yourself: it’s a defensive move. Nearly every castle or city with defenses detailed has murder holes to pour boiling oil on attackers: Dragonstone, King’s Landing, Queenscrown, Meereen, Griffin’s Roost, Castle Black, the Twins, Storm’s End, Harrenhall, the Eyrie. In Westeros as in real life, murder holes through which to pour boiling oil or water are common part of defenses. Both Dragonstone and the Wall defenders were massively outnumbered, and their ability to use the boiling oil to scald the attackers meant they were very close range. In Jon’s case, the attackers had already broken down the door of the King’s Tower, and they were nearly at Jon and Satin’s level and were going to kill them unless massive numbers were taken out and the barricade was reestablished. Hence the oil (though both Satin and Jon react with horror to the shrieks of the Thenns, Jon says they’re fighting for their lives). The boiling oil can maim or kill, but only at close range and not to many people (it’s just one pot and done for Jon and Satin). It’s not the unfair advantage of a dragon, which is capable of killing thousands in a single day and an offensive weapon besides. Plus, considering pots of oil are more readily available than conventional weapons, they sometimes served as part of peasant defenses against raiding knights, and I’m not going to condemn someone for cruelty when someone much stronger than they are is immediately attacking them with intent to kill. That seems like a clear case of self defense.

#ask #warfare #asoiaf #war crimes

[neverendingparable]

Doomsday shows up in dad!Jon's office as instructed. These last few weeks have been hell for her and has left her with little patience. Still, she's trying her best to be as patient and kind as possible under the circumstances. It might not seem like it but it truly is a struggle for her.

"Hi. Doomsday," she says, holding her hand out for Stellan to shake if he wants to. He might note that her touch is noticeably cooler than that of a living person's, but that's the least of the giveaways that she is in fact dead considering her overall appearance. "Can I see his body? Jon's? I can actually see souls and I- Well I don't mean any offense but I would like to see for myself."

@parables-for-days

Stellan fortunately doesn't waste time with pleasantries or beating around the bush. He's completely serious even in his full on cowboy outfit, two futuristic guns, a sword and a scanning device attached to his belt. He shakes her hand and then leads her to the bedroom where they put the unconscious Jonathan, explaining on the way what had happened.

"None taken. Maso and Phos- Phobos examined the body yesterday and Phobos said his soul was gone. I scanned him again but honestly I would love a third opinion. I want to be completely sure."

He steps aside to let her in.

Jonathan is laying in a bed, his tie and coat removed to make him more comfortable - not that he'd feel any of that. His body is rigid and still, barely breathing. His eyes are closed too but if she'd lift up his eyelids, she would see the usual, healthy glow of his irises has faded completely.

Stellan stands there and waits silently as she inspects him.

#parables for days #standard verse #the real stanley

[jxckyx3]

This prompt dates back to February of 2022

(⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

Oh well, here it is 😂

🍀💚 🖤💚🍀

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Ship: Nogla harem

Top(s): Marcel, Evan, Brian, Tyler & Jon

Bottom: Nogla

AU: Team 6

Setting: Team 6 house

Type: Fluff / Comfort

Warning ⚠️: This chapter contains mentions of homophobia, sexual touching, drink spiking, relationship manipulation and other mentions or situations that may disturb, trigger or offend the viewer. Reader's discretion is advised. -- the r@pe word is used once as well as the p3do word--

__________________________________

Nogla's pov -

"Kay, see ye soon." I said, trying so hard to hide the smile in my voice. Alex chuckled deeply, the sound going straight to my heart.

"I'll see 'ye' soon too." He said. I scoffed in only half offense, immediately earning a louder laugh from him.

"Don't make fun of me!" I grumbled, walking over to my bed and peeking into the white present-like bag that had been resting there.

"I can't help it, you're too cute when you're mad." He retorted. I huffed, rolling my eyes at the reasoning. Regardless I felt a stupidly wide smile spread to my face, my cheeks heating up.

"Whatever. I'll see you later, love you." I mumbled, making sure to use proper English this time, being a little embarrassed to let the accent slip in this time.

"Yeah, yeah. See ya soon baby." He muttered with a smile. The sound of him hanging up sounded through my ear from the phone, a tiny beep followed up.

I sighed, biting my lip as I tossed my phone to the side.

Alex wasn't very comfortable using the L word. I didn't hold it against him. I mean, he did just get out of a relationship not too long ago.

In fact, we started dating a week after his last one. We've been together for two months now, and though most find that strange to move on so quick, Alex insisted that we go right into it.

He said it would help him move on and I was willing to take that risk. I wanted to see him happy, and if I was what made him smile, I was gonna give him my all to make sure he was happy.

And that all leads up to now.

Alex wanted to take me out on date, seeing as how we haven't had a proper one in over a month. He wanted to go somewhere fancy, yet, casual.

He insisted he buy me clothes for the occasion, no matter how many times I told him that I had enough. But he said he wanted me to wear something that would bring out my more feminine features.

Not that I minded that. I fully embraced the effeminate sides of myself, but I never exposed them much.

And according to this outfit, Alex really wanted me to...

I hummed in thought as I held up the dress. The top was a mint green and the skirt-like bottom was black. I glanced over to see a pair of black tights and pair of one inch high heels.

I was glad the heels were so small, because God forbid I trip and fall on my face in front of Alex.

I reached into the bag again, pulling out the remaining of the outfit. I was slightly taken aback, setting the articles next to the others.

There was a black garter belt and red lacy panties, along with a matching bra.

I was confused, seeing as, well me and Alex hadn't had sex yet and I wasn't planning on it any time soon. So why the flashy lingerie?

I knew that Alex was very complimenting. He liked to call me beautiful almost every minute of the day. But for me to dress like this? Of course, it would mostly be hidden under the main part of the clothing, but...just, why?

I kind of wanted to call him back and ask him about it, but before I could do any of that, my hands were instinctively moving on their own.

I pulled my clothes off and set them aside.

A part of me was curious as to how they would feel on my skin. I had never worn anything like this before, let alone women's clothing in general.

I grabbed the bra and gently started to slip it on. It felt soft and fragile, and I found myself carefully hooking it on like some type of delicacy.

The bra had no pads or cupping in it. It looked more like a boy bra...if that made sense. I slipped the straps on my shoulders and hummed in interest at how natural it felt.

I then slipped my briefs off, quickly replacing them with the lacy panties.

Like expected, they were just as soft as the bra, the sides pulling up high on my hips. Without much thought of how it all worked, I pulled on the garter belt and clipped the straps to the tights that I so effortlessly slipped on to my legs.

I walked around curiously, simply feeling how nice it felt to be like this. It felt as if I've been doing this my whole life.

I did happen to wear my mom's makeup and clothes when I was a kid, but that was all when I was like, seven.

But this felt... different. Better? In a way? More satisfying?

I then stopped in my tracks, catching a glimpse of myself in my body mirror that hung on my bathroom door.

The dark colors made my pale skin stick out, and the lace made my flushed areas seem a lot more tinted. The tights were a bit...well, tight, and made my thighs bulge a bit where the clothing stopped. The panties accented my hips greatly from how high they came, and everything put together made me look like an actual women.

I set my hand on my hips, humming as I did a litte spin to see the back and sides.

"Bitch...I'm beautiful." I decided, giggling to myself as I moved over to grab the dress. I easily slipped it into my body, the article having a snug fit.

I grabbed a belt from my closet and wrapped it around my waist, humming in approval as I looked in the mirror. I slid my feet into the heels and moved over to my dresser.

I grabbed a few accessories that Alex bought for me, saying he had wanted me to wear them when we went out.

The first was a simple black chocker that made my neck seem slimmer and the second was a silver chained necklace that had a small heart pendant.

I pulled out the new box of earrings that Alex got me from my jewelry drawer and smiled in adoration.

The metal was silver, just liked the necklace but instead of hearts, they were ruby red jewels that looked absolutely beautiful.

I put them in and brushed my hair out, staring at my reflection for a few seconds before my hand slowly come to a halt.

I admired myself, trailing my eyes over the more noticeable features of my face and body as well as the clothing that I had on.

I was never one to be self conscious but I wasn't one to be overconfident either.

For some weird, odd reason, I felt more natural in this sort of outfit. More...me.

I hummed, raising my hand as I put on a thin layer of strawberry chapstick. A thing I did often when I was thinking.

"NOGLA! YOU DONE IN THERE?! YOUR TIMER ON THE OVEN IS GOING OFF!"

I flinched at the ridiculously loud voice, jolting into the dresser and dropping my chapstick in the process. As well as knocking over a few things standing on my dresser as well.

I cursed silently, scrambling to stand them back up.

"Fuck- yeah, just a sec!" I called back, hurriedly fixing my hair before grabbing my phone and heading out into the hall.

I quickly made my way towards the stairs, almost bumping into Evan as he exited his room.

"Oh shit, sor- Nogla?" He asked, immediately frowning as he took in my dress. I blushed slightly, not having thought about how the guys would react to this.

Of course, they knew I was gay. They knew I was in a relationship and of course they knew I was a bottom. Or at least, I think they knew I was a bottom. It's pretty fuckin' obvious.

"Oh, sorry." I apologized, moving around him and skipping down the stairs. Careful not to trip and fall in these damn heels.

"NOGLA, I SAID THE DAMN TIMER—"

"Yeah, yeah I heard ya Ty." I said, lazily patting his face as I passed him at the bar. He spluttered at me, tossing his phone down as he slapped my hand away.

Third pov -

Nogla laughed as Tyler cursed at him, only having time to glare at him for a second before his eyes lowered and he froze in shock.

Nogla continued on, brushing the look of surprise off to head around the bar and slip into the kitchen.

Tyler watched in even more confusion as Nogla casually slipped oven mits on and opened the oven up.

"Hey, I just saw the weirdest thing. I was coming out of my room, and—..." Evan's story trailed off as he seated himself next to Tyler, his eyes quickly catching onto Nogla.

The Irishman set the large, glass container of food on the marble counter, tossing the mits aside to grab a fork.

He slipped it in, checking if the food was done. It cam out clean and steamy, a smile of satisfaction gracing his lips.

"I heard the kitchen timer! Where the food at!" Jon's voice drew out, the man walking into the kitchen like he owned it. 

He was then quick to stop in his tracks as Nogla grabbed his wrists and pulled him over.

"Great, taste t'is." He said. Before Jon had any sort of time to admire the other, a hot spoonful of meatloaf was shoved into his mouth, his tongue immediately bursting with flavor.

He chewed slowly, eyeing up the man that was only slightly taller than him. Jon had always been the same height as Nogla. Even when they all first met him in person, he was even a single centimeter taller than the Irishman. Leaving him the third tallest in their group of six.

Jon glanced down, noticing the black heels the other had on.

For the first time, he experienced what it was like to be shorter than Nogla like the rest of the guys. Well—besides Tyler, of course.

"How is it? Is it good? Is it bad? What? C'mon speak, bitch." Nogla prompted, expression determined as Jon slowly swallowed the savoury taste.

He ignored the comments on Nogla's outfit that lingered on his tongue, fighting them away to come up with an appropriate response.

"Uh, g-good. Yeah, it's good." He said, his tone much softer and unconfident than he would have liked.

"Ya sure? Ye sound like ye're lying." Nogla replied bluntly, narrowing his eyes down a his roommate. Jon quickly shook his head, throwing his hands up in defense.

"No! It's great! I'm just...speechless. it's really good Nogla, I promise. You're a great cook." He reassured, putting on his signature confident grin.

He watched the relief wash over Nogla's pretty features, his glare softening.

He knew how much Nogla liked to be complimented for his cooking. They all knew.

"Oh thank God. Well, t'ats dinner. I'm gonna head out now. Got a date in less than five minutes." He explained, quickly glancing down at his phone before slipping out of the kitchen.

"Wait, date? When do we get to meet this guy?" Tyler blinked out of his transe, his overprotective mode engaging. Nogla hummed with a shrug of his shoulders, grabbing his bag—that he refused to call a purse because he still felt the need to linger onto his masculine pride—that he had left on the counter top earlier when making the food.

"Dunno. When his face pops up, I guess." Nogla said, putting his phone in his bag before making his way to the living room.

The guys quickly exchanged glanced of concern, before all following after their friend.

"But still, how do you know that this guy isn't a murderer of something?" Evan butted in, the four making their presence known to the other two who had been sitting on the couch and watching TV.

"Evan, we've been dating fer two months." Nogla said with a roll of his eyes.

Brian and Marcel stared at Nogla, not saying a word as the others continued to bicker.

"Exactly! He could be a serial killer!" Jon retorted, holding a finger high at the statement.

Nogla sighed with a smile, shaking his head. Jon always suspected someone to be a serial killer. He really needed to stop watching that Dateline show.

"Lads, I'll be fine. Alex wouldn't be able to put down a dyin' puppy if 'e needed ta." He said, crossing his arms as he shifted his weight to one hip.

A few of the guys had lingered their eyes on the movement, noticing the way it had made Nogla's hip just out and display his curves. As well as drawing attention to the visible garter strap that connected to his tights.

"'Alex'? Finally, we get a name! You do know half the population that have the name 'Alex', are most likely to be a rapist." Evan added, ripping his eyes from the exposed skin to meet the taller's gaze.

Nogla giggled at that, throwing his head back as he laughed at the words.

God, his friends were something.

"We haven't even had sex yet, calm down." He said, turning to grab the doorknob.

"Dressed like that, he's definitely gonna wanna do something tonight." Marcel finally spoke, gesturing down to what Nogla had on.

Finally, someone decided to address Nogla's outfit.

He pouted in half flattery and half offense.

"What's wrong wit' what 'm wearing? Alex picked it out." He huffed, glaring over at the other.

"That's exactly it. Alex picked it." Brian stated, knowing that the others understood what he meant.

If Alex picked such a feminine and slightly revealing outfit, than he surely expected Nogla to give him something in return. And that was his body.

"What? I don't get it." The latter said, expression clearly one of confusion.

Tyler sighed loudly, shaking his head and waving at his friend.

"Y'know what? Just go on your date. Enjoy yourself. Don't listen to us." He said, reaching around the shorter and opening the door wide.

His voice were laced with sarcasm. Not a whole lot, but enough to make it clear.

Nogla stared up at him for a second, face blank.

"Oh...okay!" He said cheerfully, not having read Tyler's real statement. Which was 'Go, but don't say we didn't warn you'.

"Oh! Before I go, how do I look?" He asked quickly, looking a bit worried as he stopped and stood still so that the guys could get a full view of the outfit.

The guys froze, staring openly now that they were given permission.

The belt cinched his waist and showed his curves beautifully, the tights made his thighs look damn great and the added accessories were the cherry on top.

He was fucking gorgeous.

"Ye look stunning." Brian admitted with a soft smile, reassuring the other. Nogla blinked in surprise, not having expected an immediate response that was positive.

"T-thanks...Alright, I'm goin'." He said with a blush, smiling happily as he spun on his heel.

Tyler sighed again, feeling slightly annoyed as Nogla skipped out happily over to the red flashy car parked in the middle of the street.

Tyler caught a glimpse of the guy driving it, frowning in confusion as he received, presumably a glare from the man.

"Bye! Don't stay up fer me!" Nogla called, waving Tyler off as he hopped into the passenger street. The American didn't have time to respond as the car split down the road in a matter of seconds.

Tyler grunted with a roll of his eyes, shutting the door and turning to face the other four.

The men stood in complete silence, exchanging the same look of concern.

"I'm starting to worry about this Alex guy." Marcel started, earning hums of agreement.

"True. We don't even know who he is and we leave Nogla to visit him every other day." Evan added with a sigh.

Believe it or not, the guys had become very protective over Nogla ever since he came out to them. Because the second he came out to them, he came out to his channel.

Nogla did happen to receive some hate from it, and regardless of that it didn't bother him, it bothered the guys.

They couldn't just sit here and watch their friend take the heat like that. Especially since he already had enough of that from the rest of their friends teasing him and joking about it.

So instead of calling out the fans, the guys just complained about 'homophobic assholes that don't know their place' while recording with eachother. Wether it be a comment on how their unloyal fans were idiots or getting pissed at unspecified fans commenting, they made sure to make the hating side of their audience know that they knew of their criticism towards Nogla.

Nogla had picked up on it immediately and was very thankful of the guys. He didn't verbally thank them, but making their favorite dinner or baking them treats was enough for them to get the message.

The group of friends had supported eachother through eight years of their lives and they weren't gonna stop any time soon.

"Hmm, we could put an air tag on Nogla when he goes out and then we could follow and see where the two go just to see what the guy does and acts like." Jon suggested out of nowhere, earning a snort in response from Tyler.

"That's illegal, Delirious." He stated. Jon simply shrugged, showing that he didn't care. All he cared about was Nogla's safety. And according to the fact that there was no further complaint on Jon's suggestion, so did the rest of the guys.

"Whatever. All I know, is tat I don't trust this guy. Not one fuckin' bit." Brian grumbled, lazily flipping through the channels of the tv.

_

It was dark out and the sun had already set. The guys had finished the dinner that Nogla made not too long ago and despite his word of telling them not to wait up, they had completely ignored him.

Whenever Nogla said 'not to wait up', that usually meant that he was going drinking with his boyfriend. And when he'd come back home, he'd be totally hammered despite his high tolerance for alcohol.

Meaning Alex and him drank and they drank a lot. But Alex always seemed to manage to drive away quickly and skillful once dropping Nogla off, so the guys highly doubted that Nogla was drinking with him. More like Nogla did all the drinking.

Which, wasn't usual. Nogla didn't care much for alcohol, and when he did, it wasn't much. He wasn't a party guy, therefore he wasn't a frequent drinker, let alone a drinker at all.

Tonight, they assumed the same would happen.

Nogla would bang on the door and waltz in blasted, the guys would have to care for him, clean any puke or drool from his face, tuck him into bed and then Nogla would forget it every happened.

So when Marcel opened the door to a man just a bit over his height, carrying an unconscious Nogla, he didn't know how to feel.

"Uh...hello, who are you?" He asked slowly, trailing his eyes down to Nogla. Trying his hardest not to just pry his skunked over figure from the man in front of him.

The guy had light brown hair, slicked back with a few loose strands spiked up. He had a slight stubble on his chin and jaw, and his eyes were a light grey. His skin was tanned and he was somewhat toned.

He wore a dark grey T shirt and dark blue jeans. Presumably, just black jacket was draped over Nogla's thin body.

"Hey, you must be one of David's roommates. Uh...he got a little confident with the beer and shit and uh...yeah." The man explained, a small nervous smile on his face. Though to Marcel, it looked fixed and forced.

Fake.

A lot of things right now didn't sit right with him.

One, Nogla didn't really like beer. Saying it tasted sour. He preferred wine or a cocktail. Hell, he'd take sparkling water over beer.

Two, the man addressed him as David. It was strange, since almost nobody called him David. Nogla hated the formality of it and only felt comfortable when his family called him that. He didn't even like the guys calling him that. The closest thing they were allowed to use was 'Daithi', and that was because he was comfy with the name.

Third, was the man's hesitation. Like he didn't want to be here, yet he had no choice, seeing as Nogla was too dazed to even stand on his own, let alone walk into the door by himself.

"So...uh, can I come in?" The man asked, glancing around as if he expected to be let in the second he showed up. Marcel stared at him suspiciously for a second, before nodding and slowly stepping aside.

The man grunted softly as he picked Nogla up bridal style and strut into the room. He had only glanced around for a split second before making his way to the couch in the living room and setting Nogla down.

Marcel cringed at how careless he did it. As if Nogla was a sort of rag doll or liability. He frowned, watching as the man stroked his pale face in silence, running the tips of his fingers down Nogla's neck.

"So you must be Alex." He spoke up, making himself present as he watched the man move his hand dangerously close to the top of Nogla's dress. As if he was about to just rip it off.

Alex yanked his hand back, clearing his throat before seating himself and nodding.

"Uh, yeah. That's me." He said with a grin.

Marcel noted that the man had horrible acting skills. Trying to seem friendly to make a good first impression. It was clear that this man hadn't planned on meeting any of the guys, seeing as he tried every possible way to steer clear of introductions.

Like now, he couldn't even look Marcel in the eye.

"Hey we heard the door bell, did Nogla come...home?"

Jon came into the room from the hall, the rest of the guys right behind him.

They usually just sat in their theater room and watched movies till Nogla came home. And like usual, that's what they had been doing. The second they heard the doorbell however, they suspected Nogla to be back home.

However, Nogla never rings the doorbell. He likes to slam his body against the door and pound like a cop when he's drunk.

And knowing that Marcel had gone to the kitchen to get a snack, they expected him to answer the door, thinking maybe it was someone else. Like a neighbor or something.

But he took a while and didn't come to tell them who it was, so they rushed out of the room.

Only now, to be greeted with an irritated looking Marcel and some random man caressing Nogla's unconscious body.

"Uh... who's this?" Jon asked, finally finding the words.

Marcel opened his mouth to speak, but instead, gestured for Alex to introduce himself.

If he wanted to act all dandy, he was gonna need to pull it off in front of the others.

Alex seemed hesitant, looking as if he wanted no part of this. Like he wanted to go back to his car and drive back home like a dog with it's tail between his legs.

Instead, he chose the risky route, and introduced himself.

"Uh, I'm Alex. David's boyfriend." He said. His tone laced with honey and sweetness. Yet, the guys were all voice actors. They knew when someone was putting on a show or not. Jon wasn't a voice actor, but he's seen and heard enough times to know as well.

The way Alex said the word 'boyfriend', had an underlined statement. The tone he used for the word was much different from the rest. Smug, cocky, dominant, possesive.

He wanted the guys to know Nogla belongs to him and him only.

Brian didn't like that. Not one bit.

"What did ye two do tonight? Seemed like ya had fun, eh?" He asked all friendly like, casually moving over to the other couch and giving this Alex guy a big grin.

Nogla's boyfriend seemed to relax a bit at the faked welcoming, putting his guard down.

Marcel seemed hostile but at least this guy was chill, he thought.

"Yeah, we did. David really loves his alcohol though. We had to come home early." He chuckled, resting his hand on his boyfriend's upper thigh.

Early? It's almost midnight...

Brian's eyes snapped to the action, slightly startling Alex. He awkwardly dragged his hand back, getting the impression that he wasn't wanted here.

He wasn't.

"Alcohol? What did he have to get him so hammered?" Evan played along with Brian's little bit, moving to lean against the back of the couch behind Alex, purposely flexing his muscles to seem more intimidating.

It worked.

"U-uh, y'know. You guys know David. Beer, tequila, the usual." Alex stuttered, trying his hardest to keep up his act.

That wasn't right. Nogla hated tequila. It burned his throat. Even a single shot would make him gag in distaste.

"Damn, he must've drunken a lot to pass out like this." Tyler chimes in, leaning over the couch to brush Nogla's hair from his face.

He smirked as Alex made a certain face. Like he wanted to object, but knew he couldn't. He was out numbered.

Instead, he let out a pleasant sigh and nodding in agreement.

He then leaned down and kissed Nogla on the lips, making Tyler immediately draw his hand back.

He smirked. He fucking smirked. The guys couldn't hate this guy any more than they do right now.

"Anyways, is it okay if I crash here for tonight? David wanted me to stay tonight and meet you guys, but I'm hella tired." Alex said, already taking his shoes off.

That was also wrong. Nogla said he didn't want the guys to meet Alex any time soon, and now all of a sudden he wants the guy to stay over?

That would've eventually led to an introduction between them all, and that's exactly what Nogla didn't want.

Yet here Alex is, already taking his shirt off and laying down next to Nogla on the couch.

"Yeah. You can crash." Marcel muttered, keeping his eyes on the man as he walked over to the bar to grab his snacks.

The guys didn't really want Alex to stay, but it looked as if he was gonna stay anyway, so there no point in arguing.

Jon, who had been silent snapped his fingers and gathered the guys'attention. He gestured over to the bar and they quickly obliged. Moving away from Alex and Nogla to crowd around the bar.

"I hate this guy." Jon hissed, and he hadn't even spoken a word to him.

"Agreed." Brian growled, glaring daggers as he watched Alex place more kisses on Nogla's face from the corner of his eye.

When he got down to his neck, Brian had to visibly hold himself back from tearing the other man's mouth away from his friend.

The guys knew how much Nogla hated affection like that. Yeah he liked hugs, hand holding and small pecks—or at least from what he told them. But leaving hickeys on his neck?

He didn't mention liking that. Let alone receiving them when passed the fuck out.

The guys all glared in hatred, practically seething to themselves as they watched Alex slid his hands up Nogla's thighs and rest on his butt, the dress sliding up to his crotch from the movements.

Let's be real honest, the guys knew nothing of this guy. They had no real reason to hate him other than the fact that he's dating their oversensitive roommate.

But the facts that he was giving right to them, is what made them boil with anger.

One, he acts like he genuinely wanted to have conversation with the guys. Two, he seemed way too possesive over Nogla. Three, he asked if he could saty even as he was already getting himself comfortable. Four, he lied straight to their faces about Nogla loving beer and tequila. More than once! And five, he was groping Nogla in front of them like it was so casual!

While he was dead asleep!

It was clear to the guys why this guy likes Nogla so much. He wanted to get in his pants. And according to what Nogla told them earlier about how they hadn't had sex yet—and considering they've been dating two months—this guy wanted so desperately to have his way with Nogla.

"We can't just...leave them there...can we?" Marcel asked, angrily munching on his baby carrots. Evan let out a long, heavy sigh, shaking his head.

"We have no choice. If we do something rash, he'll definitely tell Nogla. I don't want him getting pissed at us for doing something stupid like killing his stupid boyfriend- Jon put the knife down." He whispered, snapping his eyes over to the other.

Jon grumbled, irritably shoving the knife back into it's holder on the counter.

They knew Evan was right. They couldn't sit here all night and supervise the two. They needed to seem fine with this. To seem like they felt like it was safe enough to leave Alex alone with Nogla.

They needed to keep their cool. They couldn't let their over protection show. Not only would they scare Alex off—even if that's exactly what they wanted—they would also make Nogla mad at them.

That's the last thing they wanted.

So instead, they headed upstairs and to their own separate rooms. Each one of them slamming their door harder then the first.

_

"Hey. Wake up. Food." Alex opened his eyes slowly, jolting awake as he was met face to face with Tyler.

Nogla had told Alex all about his roommates. He cherished them, and it annoyed the hell out of Alex, but at least he got to know more about the roommates.

He could know what he was getting into.

Tyler glared down at Alex, noticing that Nogla now had his shirt instead of the green dress. It was draped over the back of the couch. Leaving Nogla only in Alex's shirt.

Alex must have undressed Nogla last night.

Would Nogla have been okay with that? Probably not. Hell, and Tyler remembered that Nogla had lingerie on underneath.

Not to mention the three dark hickeys marking Nogla's neck and exposed collar bone.

God, he hated Alex. He really, really hated this Alex guy.

"Well ya gonna get up or keep staring like a dumbass? Wake him up too, he needs to eat." Tyler snapped, rolling his eyes before walking away as Alex flinched.

Nogla told him that Tyler was a sweet big softie. This was nothing like that.

"You get them up?" Jon asked, setting out an extra plate; sure that Alex was gonna want food too. He may or may not have spit in it as well...

"Yeah. Got the boyfriend up. I told him to wake Nogla up too." Tyler replied, plopping back down in his seat.

Annoyed. The guys could tell. Why?

They soon found out, as Alex walked in with a half asleep Nogla... wearing Alex's shirt, sporting three hickeys.

"Perverted bastard." Brian spat, quickly looking to his phone before Alex thought he was speaking to him.

"What? Someone outted as another pedophile or something?" The latter chuckled humorously.

That wasn't funny.

"Something..." Brian muttered, clicking his phone off before slamming it onto the table and shoving a bite into his mouth to stop himself from speaking further.

Alex froze, raising his brows in surprise.

Nogla said that Brian was charming and usually calm, loving dark humor. But he didn't seem to enjoy that one.

He carefully seated himself in one of the chairs. Instead of putting Nogla in his own seat, he sat him in his lap and pulled his plate over.

The guys watched in silence as he poked at Nogla's eggs, breaking off a small piece before raising the fork to his pink lips.

"Open, baby." He muttered, the words sounding much too sexual for just food. Nogla hummed tiredly, blinking his eyes open as if there was something in his eye.

He only peeked his eyes open for a second, not taking in his position or the situation. All he saw was food in his face, and he willingly parted his lips to accept it.

Alex slipped the bite into Nogla's mouth, chuckling as Nogla hummed happily and tiredly.

The guys stared in disgust, watching as Alex fed Nogla like some type of...play thing. Each bite he took, a new flash of desire took hold of Alex's expression and his friendly facade dropped to something much sinister.

Something disgusting and creepy.

"He's not a dog." Marcel muttered, hoping it wasn't heard, but it was.

Alex visibly hesitated with the next bite he moved to Nogla's lips, only halting for a second before continuing like he hadn't heard the words.

Nogla said Marcel was kind and friendly. His expression didn't look very much like that.

"Nogla, do you remember anything last night?" Jon suddenly asked, catching Alex off guard.

Of course, Nogla would've surely forgotten anything. But if he was woken up enough to a functional mindset and was asked enough questions, the memories would come back in a flash.

Alex didn't want that. Because then the guys would ask the same questions they asked him last night, and they'd surely find out he was lying about Nogla willingly drinking.

They would find out that Alex spiked Nogla's drinks to make him vulnerable.

"Here. Have some coffee to wake yourself up." Jon continued, setting a large cup in front of the two. Alex silently inhaled at that.

If Nogla drank the coffee and woke up more, he'd be able to awnser questions. Alex had to drink it before Nogla could.

"Oh, than—"

"Not for you. We'll give ya a free meal and place to sleep, but if you want coffee, you pay." Jon cut Alex off, smacking his hand away from the cup. He could care less if Alex found him rude or not.

Nogla said that Jon was funny and selfless. This... didn't seem very selfless.

Nogla's hands reached down on instinct and he grabbed the warm cup. Alex inhaled again as Nogla took a tiny sip, his eyes immediately opening a crack as he felt the steam hit his face.

He was waking up.

"Morning dude. Rough night?" Evan asked, seemingly coming out of nowhere behind Alex and rubbing Nogla's shoulder softly.

The Irishman could only hum in response, frowning slightly. He felt hungover, but he didn't remember drinking...

"Rough? Rough..." Nogla muttered, trying to piece together why he was so tired. He felt like he ran a whole marathon.

"You and your boyfriend here had fun, huh?" Evan laughed, smacking Alex's back. Hard.

He jumped at the pain, bouncing Nogla in his lap and waking him up fully as coffee spilled onto his hands.

"Fuck!" He yelped, immediately standing up and flicking his wrists to rid of the sweet heat. He then froze, looking down to notice his dress was gone.

He glanced over to Alex in question, but the other was too busy wiping coffee droplets off his chest.

"Heh, pussy." Evan teased Alex, a hint of smugness behind the playful teasing.

Nogla said that Evan was soft and considerate. That wasn't very considerate.

"You okay, Daithi?" Brian asked, moving over to grab Nogla red hands. A hint of jealousy sparked in Alex. He couldn't help the glare he sent Brian's way.

"Yeah...I'm...really confused." Nogla blinked, staring down at his state again. How had he gotten into Alex's shirt? How did he get out of his dress? Hell, how the fuck did he get home?!

"Confused about? Do ye remember anything? Try thinking harder." Brian muttered, eyes snapping up to Alex as he said the words slowly and deeply.

Shit.

"Ah, I'll catch him up on what happened last night. I gotta get him showered and cleaned up." Alex chuckled nervously, grabbing a hold of Nogla's hands and dragging him away to find his room.

"How did ye get here?" Nogla questioned, still a bit sleepy.

"Baby, I'll tell you I'm a sec. First I need you to show me to your room." Alex laughed with a hint of worry in his voice.

The guys all watched as Alex took Nogla out of the room, hearing their quiet chattering fade as they heard footsteps on the stars.

"Hell. He didn't even eat the food I spit in." Jon hissed, after some time in silence, sighing in frustration as he took a large gulp of coffee.

The painful heat down his throat would probably be the only thing to stop him from grabbing another kitchen knife and finding his way over to Alex's gut with it.

"I really, really don't like him. At. All." Tyler mumbled, grumpily eating his food as the others hummed or nodded in agreement.

_

Three weeks. This has been going on for three weeks.

Nogla would go on a date with Alex. Leaving in feminine clothes and looking absolutely adorable in each one. He'd be back home late. Either unconscious or on the brink of passing out while being held up by his boyfriend. Alex would have a 'friendly' chat with the guys, stay over and then in the morning, it would be just as awkward as before.

The guys would shoot hints that they didn't like Alex, but the fucker just kept on coming.

The endless cycle was starting to get really annoying.

Not only that, but it seemed as if Alex was trying to keep Nogla away from the guys. He would call him on dates more often, ask to spend some time with him or just stop by at the house unannounced to see Nogla.

The guys could see that that Alex was getting used to this and they did not like it one bit.

Nogla seemed happy however. Alex always has work—or so he says—so he was happy to just spend time with the other.

Eventually, it seemed as if Nogla had no time for the guys. He stopped recording with them often, he stopped making them food—as he was too occupied hanging out with his boyfriend—and he even stopped showing back up to the house.

The majority of his time was consumed by Alex and the guys felt weak. Like Alex was winning and they hated it.

They felt... jealous.

They had always known Nogla was their weak link. One, because he was an oversensitive cinnamon roll that loved and trusted everyone. Welcoming them with open arms.

And two, because the guys revolved their world's around keeping him safe. If Nogla was in the wrong hands, they'd drop everything in their lives to keep an eye on the Irishman.

And that's what was happening now. All attention was focused on Nogla.

They tried everything. Asking him in to play rounds of Call of Duty with them, they tried offering to make cookies with him—which he used to ask them all the time since he liked to bake with them—and they even tried to guilt trip him—much to their own self guilt for doing so.

They cared for Nogla, and seeing him drift away like this was eternally frustrating! Especially since he was running off to a guy like Alex!

The guys hadn't commented on how much they hate Alex. In fact, they tried to hide it the best that they could—though they kinda did suck at that.

Nogla hated when the ones he loved fought, unless it was all in good fun. So the guys knew not to complain about Alex. They waited till Nogla was asleep of gone to do all that.

All of this running around in concern and cursing under their breath was getting tiring. But on the fourth week, the guys would soon realize that all of this would come to an end.

They sat on the couch all grumpy like. Being too stuck in their own despair to care about what was happening on the stupid Discovery channel.

It was the sound of the front door slamming open that caught their attention. Nogla stormed in with a glare of hatred on his face, quickly turning on his heel and facing the street where Alex's signature car sat.

"Fuck you!" Nogla shouted, the genuine anger in his tone catching the guys off guard.

"No, fuck you!" Alex shouted back, sticking his head out of the sun roof of his car.

"Don't you dare give me that large cow eyed 'oh shucks, really?' look of yours! I saw the way you were staring at that girl, you so wanted to fuck her!" He continued, slamming his hands down on the red paint job on his roof.

"Excuse me, what?!" Nogla scoffed, not understanding anything the other had just said.

Yeah, he knew why they were fighting and yeah, he still didn't understand. They had gone out on another date and it was all going so well.

Nogla saw a women that looked like his sister, so he was staring from afar, trying to see if it really was her or not without needing to confront her.

However, Alex had read the situation wrong when he caught Nogla. He started to yell and curse over dramatically. Nogla hadn't understood a word he was saying—due to how drunk Alex had gotten—as his words were slurred.

The two were kicked out of the restaurant and Nogla had to physically force Alex to drive him back home.

"You heard me, bitch!" The latter shouted, the venom in his voice slurred. The guys so badly wanted to step in, but before any of them could, Nogla was shouting back his own retorts.

"I'm fuckin' gay, dipshit! And if we're just saying random shit, dirty shoebox, moon-pie, bandaid!" He hissed.

Oh how the guys loved the sass and sarcasm in his voice. He does learn it from them.

Alex scoffed in offense, slamming his hands down on the roof for his car again. It was clear to see how drunk he was. How he drove here safely, it was a true mystery.

"You know what I mean! You're just a little man that says anything and everything that everyone wants to hear, but I know what goes on in that little pretty puppet head of yours. You want pussy! That's why you won't have sex with me!" Alex squawks, sounding sure that he knew all the answers to their relationship.

"Ye don't know what goes on in my little puppet head, because you can't even think of a world, t'at doesn't revolve around te thought of getting your tiny dick tip sucked!" Nogla yelled. And with a few more profanities thrown out the door, Nogla slammed it shut.

He stood there in silence, breathing heavily as he stared at the wood of the door.

He turned around, facing the guys with a blank expression.

This was his fault, wasn't it? He had refused sex with Alex many, many times just like tonight when he should've been saying yes. Sex was a very intimate thing to him, and he would have rather done it with Alex when the time felt right.

But now that he thought about it, he should have just gave in. Things would have been easier that way...

Oh, who is he kidding? Ale was—is, a douchebag. He doesn't deserve someone like Nogla. He gave Alex the world and all he got in return was a few pretty gifts and endless dates that he—for some reason, can't really remember up until the point where they started to drink.

Nogla was stupid. He should've seen the red flags the second Alex moved on from his last relationship so quickly. He should've seen the signs when Alex groped him in all the most inappropriate places. He should've seen the obvious lies that Alex was making up, instead of him just brushing them off.

Stupid Alex...stupid me, Nogla thought.

He felt his anger die down, washing over with a much heavier feeling.

Self pity.

He felt his lips tremble, and all it took was a single tear to roll down his face before the guys were rushing over and comforting him.

"Stupid fuckin' Alex and his stupid fuckin' face- I wanna kill him." Nogla growled, face flushing as more tears ran down his cheeks.

"Woah, woah, calm down okay? We all do just- just sit down for a second." Evan reassured, bringing Nogla over to the couch to sit him down.

Small hiccups and sniffles left him as he gripped the edge of the couch, his knuckles turning white.

"He's so stupid. I should've known he was an asshole the second he started touching up on me." Nogla continued, sounding as if he was talking to himself.

"And his dumb, smug attitude is annoyin' as hell...why did I even date him?!" He cried, comforting hands running down his back.

"Shhh, Nogla breath. You're gonna be alright." Brian said, rubbing circles with his hands now.

"Cause I was stupid enough to like someone like him? Yeah, that's why. Because I'm a fucking idiot ta think he would ever love me back... That anyone would ever love me back." Nogla kept going, completely ignoring the words being said to him.

"What, no! You're not stupid, he's stupid for throwing away someone like you." Jon hissed, pissed off that Alex had Nogla thinking like his.

"He never...he never even said 'i love you' back ta me..." Nogla whimpers softly, all anger now washed away as he stared down at his hands.

All he felt now was sadness. He felt like a complete and utter failure.

"No wonder his girlfriend broke up wit' 'em. I should've listened ta her..." He mumbled, more tears staining his face.

The guys exchanged glances of concern, not knowing what to do.

They were never really good at consoling someone, let alone cheering up a crying friend. That department wasn't really their best suit.

"Was I...was I te problem? Did I do something wrong? Was I not enough- I felt like I was givin' enough."  Nogla suddenly said, eyes slightly widening like he found the problem to his situation.

The guys were taken aback at that, shocked.

"The fuck? No! Why would you even think that, of course you're enough. Alex is just a stupid prick that thinks the world revolves around him an—"

"I should've let 'em fuck me..."

The room went quiet after Nogla cut Tyler's rant off, all sitting in complete silence.

What could they do? what could they say? It seemed as if anything they tried, Nogla wasn't listening. He was stuck in his own self hatred that he didn't even care what they had to offer.

Nogla hated himself for ever liking Alex, and there was nothing the guys do do to change that.

Nogla cried openly, acting as if the guys weren't even there. He hadn't even acknowledged them despite him knowing they were clearly in front of him. Clearly trying to talk to him. But he couldn't find himself to care about their presence.

All he could think about, is how much time he wasted with a dipshit of a boyfriend who didn't even care for him.

The guys pondered quietly, trying to think of something to help their friend. He was hurting because of Alex and there wasn't much they could think of to help him.

Evan did however have an idea. It could get him, slapped, punched, socked, yelled at, cursed at or even ruin his friendship with Nogla. But he had no other ideas. He was fresh out them.

He felt his face flush with color, licking his lips as he shuffled off of the couch to sit on the floor in front of Nogla.

The guys all eyed him suspiciously, confused on what he was planning to do.

Evan ignored their stares, looking up at Nogla.

The man still had tears running down his face, mumbling profanities to himself like 'stupid', 'dipshit', 'asshole', 'bitch', and so on.

Wether they were directed to himself or for Alex, Evan couldn't tell. But what he did know, was that he wanted Nogla to stop.

He reached his hands up and cradled the man's face. It certainly earned Nogla's gaze, but he didn't stop the curses under his breath.

Evan wiped the tears from his eyes, pursing his lips in hesitation before leaning forward and pressing them to Nogla's mouth.

The Irishman froze. Eyes widening and his cursing forced to a halt.

The guys stared in shock, not having expected that. Yeah, maybe a kiss on the cheek or nose or even for Evan to lean his forehead against Nogla's. But not a full on kiss.

Nogla didn't know how to feel. On one hand, he wanted to push Evan away and ask him what the fuck he was doing. But on the other hand...the kiss felt nice.

It was different compared to how Alex kissed him. More gentle and caring. Emotional.

Alex kissed with lust, Evan kissed with love.

The difference was obvious, and Nogla found himself melting into it.

His lips moved in sync with Evan's, the two pulling eachother in close. Evan's hands moved to Nogla's jaw and Nogla's hands moved to Evan's hair.

The guys sat in... confusion? Shock? Surprise?...Jealousy?

A lot was going through their heads right now, and they couldn't seem to take their eyes away from the two. They wanted to punch Evan—especially Brian—but they also wanted to thank him for distracting Nogla.

Evan pulled back slowly, refusing to smile when Nogla tried to chase his lips. Seeking the warm feeling of true affection.

"Nogla, stop it. Anything and everything that Alex did to you or said to you, is not your fault. You're not stupid, you're not dumb and you are enough." Evan scolded, making sure Nogla was staring right into his eyes when speaking.

"We love you, and nothing is stoping us from doing that. Not you, not Alex. You're perfect." He spoked softly, yet firmly. Making sure Nogla understood him clearly.

And he did. When looking down at Evan, he knew it was nothing but the truth.

The guys loved him, and not even his own stupidity could prevent that.

"Re-really?" He managed to get out. Brian hummed in agreement, ignoring the urge to kick Evan in the face for kissing Nogla, to wrap his arms around the other Irishman.

"Really. Trust us when we say that ye don't need him. And ye're not stupid fer liking him. Love is tricky and it makes us do stupid things and say stupid things. But it doesn't make you stupid." He said.

"For once." Tyler muttered jokingly. The guys all laughed when Nogla playfully shoved him, a pretty smile gracing his lips.

"No, but seriously. Alex was a lost cause the second we met him. If he didn't break up with you sooner, I probably would've killed him." Jon said, earning a few laughs from the guys.

"I'm being dead serious." He deadpanned.

Silence.

"Wait, lost cause the se-...did ye guys not like him when ye met?" Nogla asked, thinking into Jon's words.

"Uh...well, we didn't hate hi- okay, yeah. We absolutely hate the living fuck out of him." Marcel admitted, sighing as he felt a weight being lifted off of his shoulders.

He's been dying to say that straight to Nogla's face.

"How come?" Nogla asked, now curious.

"Because he's a douchebag." Evan.

"Because he's a pathetic lier." Marcel.

"Because he touched ye funny." Brian.

"Because he came off as possesive." Jon.

"I just thought he looked ugly." Tyler admitted.

Nogla laughed at the last one, finding it hilarious that Tyler didn't like someone based off of what they looked like.

He would be the type of person to do that.

"I love ye guys." Nogla laughed, resting his side against Brian.

The guys felt a warm feeling seeping into their chests at those words. What was it?

Platonic love? Family love? Brotherly love?

Love love?

It fell silent after the laughs died down. Everyone just trying to figure out what this heavy feeling they had and what it meant.

"Uhm..." Nogla suddenly said, averting his gaze as he flushed a deep red.

"Yeah?" Evan asked, moving his hands from Nogla's face to his hands instead.

"Uh...can ye..." He mumbled, face growing redder by the second. Jon raised a brow, humming in acknowledgement for Nogla to continue.

The guys didn't rush him. Waiting for him to speak.

"Can- can ye kiss me again? It felt nice..."

The room fell silent again.

Evan felt a smirk slowly spread to his face, his eyes lighting up with mischief.

"Oh, did you now?" He asked teasingly. Nogla snapped his eyes to meet Evan's, seeing the smug look on his face.

"Ah- y'know what? Nevermind. T'at was a stupid question." He muttered with an embarrassed look. He ripped his hand away from Evan's and as he was about to turn to bolt up to his room, Marcel caught his face with his hands and pulled Nogla into a kiss.

He jolted in surprise. Then he blinked. He blinked again. Then he was fluttering his eyes shut and falling into the comforting feeling of the kiss.

A kiss that held so many emotions but only one stood out.

"I love ye guys." Nogla whispered once they pulled back, his eyes pointed down as he was too embarrassed to make eye contact.

"We fucking love ya too." Jon chuckled, pulling Nogla away from Marcel's hold and into his lap. Nogla felt a wave of adoration crash over him.

Alex never said those words...never.

"Oh shit, why is he crying again? Jon what did ye do?" Brian asked, his tone stern.

"What?! I didn't do shit!" He shot back, hurriedly wiping the tears from Nogla's face. The Irishman giggled at their bickering, shaking his head at them.

"N-no, it's not ye guys. 'M just happy, I'm happy." He reassured, getting comfortable on Jon's lap and leaning into an embrace.

"I'm happy." He repeated, smiling as he nuzzled into Jon's neck. The American sighed in relief, wrapping his arm around Nogla's slim frame.

"Good. We're happy that you're happy." Tyler said.

And it was true. The smile on Nogla's flushed face was enough to make them break into their own smile.

"... y'know, I'm still gonna kill that Alex guy."

"Jon, I'm not bailing ye outta prison fer murder."

"If ya love me ya will."

"..."

"That wasn't a no."

"...fock off."

9366 words

__________________________________

A bit longer than I intended but here it is anyways!

I hope ya guys liked it and make sure to stay healthy my loves!

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)

🍀💚🖤💚🍀

- Jacky       

         

_________________________________

Featured or mentioned characters:

Main -

Nogla - Nogla, Daithi, David

VanossGaming - Evan

H2ODelirious - Jon

BasicallyIDoWrk - Marcel

IAmWildcat - Tyler

Terroriser - Brian

#daithi de nogla #banana bus squad #bbs nogla #nogla #bbs fanart #bbs #bbs crew #bottomnogla #fanart #vanoss crew #bbs vanoss #bbs basically #bbs delirious #bbs wildcat #bbs terroriser #team6 #noglaharem

[elegantwoes]

“You will. You found forty thousand golden dragons for a champion’s purse, surely you can scrape together a few coppers to keep the king’s peace.” Ned turned back to Janos Slynt. “I will also give you twenty good swords from my own household guard, to serve with the Watch until the crowds have left.”

Every time Ned sends part of his household guards to someone else he loses a piece of his soul. Also I just realized. Those 20 guardsman likely helped Janos Slynt kill Ned's household and that breaks my heart (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Lord Renly laughed. “We’re fortunate my brother Stannis is not with us. Remember the time he proposed to outlaw brothels? The king asked him if perhaps he’d like to outlaw eating, shitting, and breathing while he was at it. If truth be told, I ofttimes wonder how Stannis ever got that ugly daughter of his. He goes to his marriage bed like a man marching to a battlefield, with a grim look in his eyes and a determination to do his duty.”

This passage would have been funny if Renly didn't talk bad about Shireen. That is your niece, you insensitive asshole. This is why I hate the Baratheon brothers. All of them are trash.

Ser Hugh had been brusque and uninformative, and arrogant as only a new-made knight can be. If the Hand wished to talk to him, he should be pleased to receive him, but he would not be questioned by a mere captain of guards … even if said captain was ten years older and a hundred times the swordsman

Ser Hugh is pretty uppidity for a squire. This must be a Vale thing, because Waymar was pretty obnoxious too in the prologue.

Robert’s lusts were the subject of ribald drinking songs throughout the realm, but Stannis was a different sort of man; a bare year younger than the king, yet utterly unlike him, stern, humorless, unforgiving, grim in his sense of duty.

No offense Ned but you have no right talking bad about Stannis. Not when you are similar to him.

The potboy, now cordwainer, had never exchanged so much as a word with Lord Jon, but he was full of oddments of kitchen gossip: the lord had been quarreling with the king, the lord only picked at his food, the lord was sending his boy to be fostered on Dragonstone,

Say what you want about Lysa Arryn but she was right to prevent Sweetrobin from being fostered at Dragonstone. I don't think that stern and unforgiving man like Stannis would know how to foster a frail boy like young Robert.

Ned was not sure what to make of Renly, with all his friendly ways and easy smiles. A few days past, he had taken Ned aside to show him an exquisite rose gold locklet. Inside was a miniature painted in the vivid Myrish style, of a lovely young girl with doe’s eyes and a cascade of soft brown hair. Renly had seemed anxious to know if the girl reminded him of anyone, and when Ned had no answer but a shrug, he had seemed disappointed

It's pathetic how Renly and Tyrells are acting like the caricature version of the Boleyn family. Their stupid scheme would have never worked.

“Who paid the boy’s apprentice fee?” he asked lightly. Mott looked fretful. “You saw the boy. Such a strong boy. Those hands of his, those hands were made for hammers. He had such promise, I took him on without a fee.” “The truth now,” Ned urged. ... “He was stout, round of shoulder, not so tall as you. Brown beard, but there was a bit of red in it, I’ll swear. He wore a rich cloak, that I do remember, heavy purple velvet worked with silver threads, but the hood shadowed his face and I never did see him clear.” He hesitated a moment. “My lord, I want no trouble.”

The description fits Varys to the T. Though, I have to wonder, why did Varys pay for his fee. Does he have some use for him? If so, what would that be? Frankly I can't come up wth a theory even if my life depended on it. I hope the readers have the answers to this.

His guard was waiting outside with the horses. “Did you find anything, my lord?” Jacks asked as Ned mounted up. “I did,” Ned told him, wondering. What had Jon Arryn wanted with a king’s bastard, and why was it worth his life?

And Ned is closer to figuring out the truth.

Next Chapter: Daughter of Rivers, Mother of Woves. Catelyn

#ASOIAF Reread Project #rereading AGOT #Ned Stark #not a lot happens in this chapter #but still I decided to make a post of it #enjoy everyone!!

[icefrye19]

Chapter Five : The Arrival

As Lyarra awoke bright and early that morning by her handmaiden Mora, she was bath and dressed as soon as possible.

Today was the day the Boltons would arrive along with other northern houses her mother was determined to make a good impression.

Sansa was excited about it and hadn't stopped talking about it the last few days.

Lyarra on the other hand couldn't wait to get this over with, she knew her mother would try to find a betrothal for her.

Luckily her father could hold off her mother for a bit which was the betrothal of Domeric and Sansa.

Lyarra sat back in her vanity chair while Mora combined her hair softly, " Is it necessary to have my hair braided " Lyarra grumbled.

" Of course my lady it's important for you to look proper and representative when the Bolton's arrived you are the warden of the north eldest daughter " Mora exclaimed.

"It's Lyarra you don't have to call me my lady " Lyarra informed her.

" It would be improper to address you like that my lady " Mora pointed out.

" I'm allowing you to so what's the harm " Lyarra questioned turning her head to look up at Mora.

Mora smiled down at the young ice she-wolf she had always been kind and sweet and would often try to get to know her household workers a bit more.

But the girl didn't realize that it wasn't proper for a lady to interact with servants and handmaidens.

" Again it's not proper I'm your handmaiden and you are my lady " Mora explained.

" I don't see you as my handmaiden I see you as my friend," Lyarra said.

" I know " Mora signed.

As Lyarra lay back quietly letting Mora braid her hair she wondered why it was such an offensive for servants and handmaidens to interact with their ladies or lords at the end of the day they were her people it was her duty to get to take care of them and get to know her people.

She had asked her mother about one day and her mother had simply said they were of low status and that their jobs were to assist them in whatever way they needed.

But the young ice she-wolf didn't care that lowborn or highborn didn't matter to her she believed everyone was the same it didn't matter if they had no titles or lands.

But the world she was in begged to differ, she hoped one-day things would change for the better.

                           Later On

As Lyarra was lined up with her parents and siblings, she stood in between Robb and Sansa behind her stood Jon and Theon much to her displeasure.

She had argued with her mother once more that Jon deserved to be up there with the rest of them saying he was Stark her mother had taken it as a sign of disrespect and struck her across the face.

Her father intervened and scolded her mother for hitting her, her mother then began to argue with her father about Jon calling him a bastard claiming he had turned her children against him, and demanding her father foster him elsewhere.

Her father refused, of course, making her mother angrier for the rest of the morning the two hadn't spoken to one another.

Soon the gates opened and in rode Lord Roose Bolton with his bastard son Ramsay Snow and his smallest trueborn son Domeric along with their man.

Lyarra stared at the ground wanting nothing more than to go to the chambers she wasn't in the mood to host.

Sansa's eyes soon lay on Domeric who was staring at her already, she sent him a shy smile which he returned.

Lord Bolton made his way over to the quiet young wolf and bowed, " Lord Stark, Lady Stark thank you gracefully inviting us "

Ned nodded with a smile, " The pleasure was all mine.

" I don't think you have had the honor of meeting my heir Domeric, Domeric come here," Lord Bolton said.

Domeric hop off his horse with a struggle causing Ramsay to snicker at him, Domeric made his way towards his father and Lord Stark before bowing.

" My lord, my lady, thank you for inviting me into your home, your home is quite beautiful " Domeric said.

" It is our pleasure to have you " Catelyn smiled looking at the boy in approval he would be perfect for her Sansa.

Domeric soon turned to Sansa and made his way over to her and bowed, " My lady " He lifted up her hand kissing it gently.

" My lord " Sansa giggled.

" Seven hells " Arya gagged at the interaction.

" You all must be tired from your journey my daughters Lyarra and Sansa will escort you to your chambers, " Catelyn said.

" Go on get settled in I must have a chat with Lord Stark in private " Roose informed his youngest son who nodded.

Lord Bolton headed inside with the quiet wolf along with Catelyn, Arya, Robb, Bran, and Rickon trailed behind them.

" Come I am sure you will love Winterfell " Sansa smiled linking arms with Domeric taking him inside

Lyarra rolled her eyes following after the pair in annoyance.

                    Sometime Later

After showing the youngest Bolton heir around,  Lyarra and Sansa showed the young lad to his chambers and left him to get settled in.

As the two sisters were walking back, " Isn't he amazing Lya he's so handsome can you believe it I will be Lady Bolton one day " Sansa gushed.

" It sounds amazing Sans " Lyarra grumbled.

" I know you must be feeling jealous now but don't worry mother and father will find you a bethored one day and you'll be the ruling lady " Sansa exclaimed.

" I'm not jealous Sans I'm happy for you and as for me, I will never marry, " Lyarra said.

" This again Lya don't be stupid you know one day you'll marry I don't know why you just won't accept that I try so hard to get you and Arya to become ladies but instead you acting like wild animals " Sansa scoffed.

" That's who we are and if you can't accept that then don't but you're not going to change who we are " Lyarra snarled getting angry at her sister's comments.

" Mother isn't happy with your guys' behavior " Sansa points out.

" Mother isn't happy about anything no matter what I do I'll always be seen as a disappointment in her eyes " Lyarra signed.

" Mother loves you know I don't understand why you are letting the bastard get in between you and mother, defending him today saying he should stand up there with us was a disgrace you know how mother feels about the bastard, " Sansa said.

"His name is Jon and he's our brother he deserves to be up there with us " Lyarra yelled tired of the way Sansa treated Jon.

Sansa was a mini version of their mother often sending him dirty looks, calling him a bastard who couldn't stand to look at him.

Questioning her and Arya why they were spending time with him when they should e spending time with their trueborn brothers.

" Half brother father dishonored mother and brought home a bastard how do you expect mother to feel about that " Sansa hissed.

" Father made a mistake like everyone else does Jon shouldn't be held accountable for father's actions he is innocent in all of this " Lyarra exclaimed.

" He's a bastard Lya that's who he is and that's who he'll always be " Sansa growled and pushed past her harshly walking away.

Lyarra began to feel the anger in her rising up she was sick of her mother and Sansa putting Jon down and her father not doing anything about it.

As her eyes began to glow a bright blue color she curl her hands into fists her hands beginning to freeze up.

Unaware that a trail of ice was starting to form around her, Lyarra looked down in horror and rush back to her chambers the ice trailing growing more behind her.

   

                  

                    Later That Day

After setting down in her chambers, it was time for the welcoming feast that her father and mother were hosting in honor of the Bolton and other northern houses that were joining them.

Lyarra entered the grand hall with Arya both wearing long blue dresses wearing winter rose flower crowns, as they made their way to the high table all eyes were on them.

.

Lyarra keep her held high and took her seat next to her father and Lord Bolton, Arya sat beside her on the other side Sansa and Domeric were talking among one another, Robb talking with a girl,  her mother sitting beside her father's left side holding Rickon in her lap next to her sat Bran who was talking with Rickon.

Down below Jon and Theon were seated along with Ramsay Snow, her mother claiming to have a bastard at the main table was disrespectful and Theon was just a ward.

" You look beautiful my lady " Lord Bolton complimented starting at the ice-she wolf wondering why the quiet wolf didn't offer her to  Domeric.

She was the quiet wolf's eldest daughter and was more beautiful she looked much like her father and had the northern spirit much like her youngest sister Arya while the red wolf and the young wolf took after their mother with their Tully red hair and blue eyes.

" Thank you, my lord " Lyarra smiled.

" You look beautiful little wolves " Ned smiled at his daughters while eyeing their flower crowns in interest,  blue roses were Lyanna's favorite.

Both of his daughters took a bit after their aunt.

" I wanted to wear breeches but mother force me to wear a dress saying it was proper " Arya grumbled.

" You look beautiful Arya " Catelyn smiled glad that her younger daughter was looking proper for once.

" Father, why is Jon not sitting up here with us I mean he's one of us he should be up here," Lyarra said.

" Lya, he's a bastard it wouldn't be proper " Ned signed.

" He's one of us father he should be up here with us " Lyarra grumbled.

" Lya you know how your mother would feel about that " Ned signed.

" Can I sit next to Jon?" Arya asked looking at her father who nodded.

Arya rose from her seat and made her way toward the lower tables and sat down next to Jon.

" May I go as well? " Lyarra asked looking at her father with beaming eyes who smiled at her knowing he couldn't refuse his daughter's request and nodded

Lyarra got up from her seat and joined Arya and Jon down below at the lower tables, the trio of siblings laughing among one another.

Catelyn stared down at her daughters conversation with the bastard and looked over at her husband in disproval no matter what she did or say her daughters would have free will to do whatever they want.

She never understood why her two daughters couldn't just listen to her they were truly Ned's daughters they had the northern looks and the spirit of a wolf all of her children did but Lyarra and Arya were more so.

She had tried to get the two to become ladies but the two wouldn't listen, they would have to listen to her one day.

                      Meanwhile

Down below at the lower tables, As Lyarra was chatting with Theon and Jon she felt a tap on her shoulder she turned around and her eyes met with brown eyes she soon noticed it was Ramsay Snow Lord Bolton's illegality son.

" Hello " Lyarra greeted with a smile.

" My lady I must say you look dashing tonight " Ramsay smirked lifting her hand to his lips smooching it.

The young ice she-wolf yanked her hand back from his grasp, " Thank you ".

" I must say I was curious to hear that your father cast you aside and choose Sansa for my little brother you are his eldest daughter after all " Ramsay exclaimed.

" I'm happy for my sister she'll make a fine Lady Bolton one day " Lyarra answered.

" Still you would be suited more for it you are quite a beauty more beautiful than your sister some would say " Ramsay whispered in her ear while twirling the ends of her hair with his hand.

" My sister is very beautiful my lord she is the true beauty of the north " Lyarra corrected in truth she didn't believe herself to be beautiful she thought herself to be a curse forced to wear gloves the rest of her life to hide her abomination powers away.

" I feel you have mistaken my lady " Ramsay purred while petting her on the head gently.

" Can you stop touching me " Lyarra mumbled?

" Are you not comfortable my lady forgive me I only mean to compliment you " Ramsay said with a twisted smile as he grabbed hold of his hand with his squeezing it tightly.

" You're hurting me " Lyarra whimpered lowly as she tried to tear away from the snow boy's grasp but his hold only tightened.

" Don't interrupt me " Ramsay warned and twisted her hand harshly causing her to cry out a bit.

" Let her go " Jon snarled standing up and looking at Ramsay with anger in his eyes.

" Or what bastard " Ramsay challenged.

Lyarra soon yanked herself free from his hold and got up from the table making her way outside.

As Lyarra was walking outside the night was cold and windy just like she likes it,  she soon made her way to the god's woods and sat under the weirwood tree.

She took off her gloves and noticed her hands were icy cold,  " it wouldn't do any harm to practice "  Lyarra thought she looked around making sure she was alone before beginning to play around with her magic.

She create a snowflake in her hand and began to stare at it in awe, how she longed for it to be winter again.

Winter was her favorite season she loved it when it would snow for days during the winter days she would practice her magic more and more with her father's approval.

Sometimes she felt amazing at what she could do other times afraid of hurting someone she loved.

She often felt fear at what would happen if anyone find out the truth, would they think her to be a monster, people accused of being witches were often burned at the stake.

Lyarra felt magic was special there was nothing wrong with it the only thing she hated was she couldn't control her magic easily she longed to find someone like her that could teach her control.

But she would never find anyone with freakish magical powers like her, for the young ice she-wolf would find herself wrong one day.

" Lya, Lya, Lya " a familiar voice called out, Lyarra slide back on her gloves quickly before standing up on alert.

As Lyarra was about to take out her dagger that she kept hidden under her boots, she sighed in relief when she saw that it was only Robb and Jon.

" What are you doing out here it's cold " Robb exclaimed before taking off his cloak and handing it to her.

" I just need some space and besides the cold doesn't bother me " Lyarra answered.

" Did Ramsay hurt you?" Jon asked in concern.

" No he didn't just twist my hand a bit there's something wrong with that boy " Lyarra muttered.

" We should inform father about this he has no right putting his hands on you " Robb growled at what he was hearing.

" Robb it's okay just leave it be " Lyarra said.

Robb nodded respecting his sister's wishes,

" We should head back inside before Lord Stark starts looking for us " Jon suggests.

" Father " Lyarra corrected him.

" Lya I'm a " Jon trailed off.

" You're our brother it doesn't matter what our mother says you are one of us," Robb said.

" We love you, you belong with us at the high table " Lyarra smiled.

" Guys, I " Jon was about to say but Robb cut him off.

" Come on," Robb said linking arms with him as well as Lyarra the trio went back inside and brought their brother to the high table much to their mother's protests but their father had let it slide.

It didn't matter what their mother said Jon was their brother and deserves to sit on the high tables with them.

Lyarra didn't care what her mother would say Jon was her brother and she wouldn't treat him differently just because they were half-siblings.

                       Author Note

  

Another update yay woohoo I am trying to wrap up Lyarra childhood storyline and move towards the time skip

Lyarra and Catelyn doesn't get along no surprise there , Lyarra loves Jon dearly and is overprotective over him and will get in spat with Catelyn over how she treats him as well as Arya

Ramsay be a an evil bastard as always don't worry I have something planned for him in the long run

I hope you like this chapter if you did give a vote down below and let me know what you thought

#original character #wattpad #game of thrones #roose bolton #domeric bolton #ramsay snow #robb stark #sansa stark #arya stark #ned x catelyn #catelyn tully #eddard stark #theon greyjoy #a song of ice and fire #asoif fanfic #asoif oc #asoif/got #got #jaimelannisterxoc #jaime lannister #jaime lannister x reader #freyallan #rickon stark #bran stark #arya strak #winterfell #jon snow

[editorofeverything]

This scene is from a WIP that didn't fit the vibe I was going for and liked too much to just delete, so please enjoy

Dick was having a perfectly decent day. He had the day off. He slept in, he showered, he shaved. He bought flowers for Kori and delivered them to her before a surprise lunch date. Dick was the definition of a thriving adult hitting thirty.

Then, Bruce asked him to pick Damian up from school.

There was nothing wrong with picking Damian up from school. Dick liked Damian, and was convinced that, on a good day, Damian liked him too. The problem was that today was not a good day.

“I don’t need a babysitter to get home from school, Grayson, and the fact that Father and the rest of the family seem to think that I can’t handle myself when I am more than capable of walking home from this waste of time and space is the highest offense—”

Teenagers and their hormones making everything so dramatic—Dick wasn’t like this when he was fifteen... Was he?

“Look, Damian, it’s not about Bruce or Alfred or even me not trusting you, ok? We all know you’re capable of taking care of yourself. That’s not even in the question. It’s the fact that you’re still not legally allowed to drive—”

“I’m fifteen!”

“—and the streets have been too quiet recently. Bruce is paranoid—well, more paranoid—and we’re all trying to be extra careful for whatever’s coming.”

Damian huffed and stared out the window for a long while and Dick internally sighed. So much for brother-bonding time.

“Tim says there’s been an increase of odd kidnappings recently,” Damian finally broke the silence without moving from his sulking position.

Dick bit his cheek to stop from smiling. Damian would probably take offense to that, too. Instead, Dick took their exit and the offering for what it was.

“Odd is definitely one way to put it. Seems like these people just disappear into thin air. Have you seen the latest video footage?”

“The gas station? It was certainly… enlightening.” They both paused, thinking about the odd video footage Oracle managed to get a copy of. It was across the street of the gas station, just barely capturing the kid standing by a bus stop. Some traffic zoomed by—three cars and an ice cream truck—and when the street was clear, the kid was just gone. No other cameras in the area. No witnesses. No bus. No kid.

“Duke thinks it could be a metahuman altering the time and space in order to take them,” Dick shared, hoping to get them off the darker train of thought.

“We don’t have any powers like that registered though,” Damian pointed out, finally uncrossing his arms and turning towards Dick.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Or can’t be created.”

More silence as they digested the conversation.

“There was another disappearance last night,” Damian said, not looking Dick in the eye as he turned his attention away from the red light. “A kid from my school. It isn’t official, but with how quiet everything else has been, all anyone can think about is the kidnappings.”

“So everyone assumes this kid was taken too?”

Silence.

“Did you know them?”

“No. No, I didn’t. Jon did, though. They were partnered in a class together. He’s a freshman. Patrick. He likes comic books.”

“Well,” Dick said, changing lanes to head back towards the city, “maybe we can get him something for when he gets back?”

“…That would be nice.”

Dick headed for the nearest comic bookstore.

#dc #damian wayne #dick grayson #brothers #bonding time #one shot #drabble

[waitingforwinterwinds]

Game of Thrones - 52 JON VII (pages 533-548)

Sam shows his senior how to CSI properly, then Jon attacks Alliser after being provoked following news from King's Landing, and has to break out of his unlocked prison cell to fight a (small) zombie invasion.

The Reader, having just done mortal combat with an unkillable cockroach the size of a small mouse, knows that feels.

-

My uncle's men, Jon thought numbly. He remembered how he'd pleaded to ride with them. Gods, I was such a green boy. If he had taken me, it might be me lying here...

No might about it. It's good that you understand, but Jon? 'Was,' maybe get a winter on the Wall under your belt before you start calling yourself a seasoned man?

Last night, he had dreamt the Winterfelldream again. He was wandering the empty castle, searching for his father, descending into the crypts. Only this time the dream had gone further than before. In the dark he'd heard the scrape of stone on stone. When he turned he saw that the vaults were opening, one after the other. As the dead kings came stumbling from their cold black graves, Jon had woken in pitch dark, his heart hammering.

"force vision or inner turmoil" = 🥛

... wait... Is that really how you spell dreamt? I thought it was spelled 'dreampt'? hang on a tic. ... 'dreamed or dreamt-' blah blah blah... oh here we go: 'dreampt is an example of a phonetic intrusion that has fallen out of use but can be found in Shakespeare' Huh, cool beans. So the correct spelling is dreamt, but because of how mouths work, the p just kind of invites itself along sometimes in audio.

"I can't look," he whispered miserably. "You have to look," Jon told him, keeping his voice low so the others would not hear. "Maester Aemon sent you to be his eyes, didn't he? What good are eyes if they're shut?" "Yes, but... I'm a coward, Jon." Jon put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "We have a dozen rangers with us, and the dogs, even Ghost. No one will hurt you, Sam. Go ahead and look. The first look is the hardest."

I love how gentle and compassionate Jon is being with Sam. It's one thing to say "I know my friend's flaws, and I accommodate them," but it's another to actually care to do that. He could have tried to subtly bully Sam into it, but he's taking the time and effort to give Sam support, and making sure to keep it private to limit an external embarrassment. I especially appreciate it after his last chapter. Growth is not always linear in one direction.

Squatting by the dead man he had named Jafer Flowers, Ser Jaremy grasped his head by the scalp. The hair came out bewteen his fingers, brittle as straw. (...) A great gash in the side of the corpse's neck opened like a mouth, crusted with dried blood. (...) "This was done with an axe."

CSI: The Wall I like that they're actually taking the time to try and figure out what happened, instead of assuming it was wildings (though they do suspect that.) No offense Waymar Royce, it's just cooler when Ser Jaremy does it.

Yet his eyes were still open. They stared up at the sky, blue as sapphires.

And what colour were they before he left for the ranging? Cause buddy, I've heard somethings about corpses with blue eyes north of the Wall.

"-The corpses are still fresh, they can't have been dead more than a day..." "No," Samwell Tarly squeaked.

Ser Jaremy: I know how to do my job, what would you know? Jon: Hey, shut up Mormont: Yeah, shut up. Not You Sam you're a delight, tell us everything. Sam: *explains why these corpses are old and weird* Jon: Oh snap, he's right, these are super cursed.

"-They haven't been chewed or eaten by animals... only Ghost... otherwise they're... they're..." "Untouched," Jon said softly. "And Ghost is different. the dogs and the horses won't go near them."

So proud of Sam for speaking up because he knew he was right, even though he was so scared. So proud of Mormont for giving him the chance to speak.

"And might be I'm a fool, but I don't know that Othor never had no blue eyes afore." Ser Jaremy, looked startled. "Neither did Flowers, he blurted, turning to stare at the dead man.

OOOOooooohhhHHHH!!!!!!

"Burn them," someone whispered. On of the rangers; Jon could not have said who. "Yes, burn them," a second voice urged. The Old Bear gave a stubborn shake of his head. "Not yet. I want Maester Aemon to have a look at them. We'll bring them back to the Wall."

Poor Mormont, it's gotta be tough being the guy who would make a sensible decision that gets your whole team killed in a zombie apocalypse.

Obviously he doesn't actually get his whole team killed, and this isn't really a zombie apocalypse (except that it is), but this is a sensible decision that could prove very useful scientifically, if it doesn't all go terribly wrong. Which it will, because of zombie apocalypse rules, sorry buddy.

His guard was sprawled bonelessly across the narrow steps, looking up at him. Looking up at him, even though he was lying on his stomach. His head had been twisted completely around.

Oh Snap!

One thing I love about sprawling stories like this, is when one plot line is experiencing a completely different genre than the others. South of the Wall, and South Proper, it's all court dramas and political intrigue strung through with a few murder mysteries and (civil?) war, over East we've got a magical horse girl who's about to start a revolution, but with the Night's Watch we have Tower Defense Zombie Apocalypse!!!

When Jon opened his mouth to scream, the wight jammed its back corpse fingers into Jon's mouth. Gagging, he tried to shove it off, but the dead man was too heavy. Its hand forced itself farther down his throat, icy cold, choking him.

Oh, now that's interesting. And terrifying. But it makes it seem like the wight is trying to 'infect' Jon from the inside out. Realistically (I say of a magical zombie attack) it's probably just trying to kill him quietly by freezing shut his throat and gagging him at the same time, but the imagery is interesting. And disturbing in its phrasing of the assault in a very specific way.

I would also like to point out that "its back corpse fingers" is not my typo, that's how it appears in my copy of the book. Page 547. I am assuming it was meant to be "It's black corpse fingers" because earlier the narrative made a point of us knowing the corpses' hands were black. (I've likely made plenty of other typos during this daily live blog, but that was not one of them.)

The direwolf wrenched free and came to him as the wight struggled to rise, dark snakes spilling from the great wound in its belly. Jon plunged his hand into the flames, grabbed a fistful of burning drapes, and whipped them at the dead man. Let it burn, he prayed as the cloth smothered the corpse, gods, please, please, let it burn.

Excuse me a minute.

AAAAAAAAAA. YAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSS KILL IT WITH FIRE!!!!!!!!!1

Ahem, where was I?

Good, quick thingking from Jon, excellent tag team from Ghost, amazing adaptability from them both. Poor Mormont has no clue what the hell just happened, though.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #jon snow #long post #a chapter a day reading #got

[esther-dot]

So Arianne used sex to manipulate Arys for her Queenmaker plot and no one in fandom bats an eye. But when we predict Pol!Jon saying that Jon is having sexual relationship with Dany to have her in North suddenly we are making Jon a rapist . Especially when Dany was in power. Fans accused us saying we are delusional. We have so many instances in books and show where characters used sex as weapons to manipulate others. I am not saying it's correct but it's not impossible.

It’s really hard to compare book to show like this because Martin seems to have a much more consistent view of things than D&D, but I’ll try to talk about it.

Arianne doesn’t have the political power that Jon who was king had. She felt desperate to right a wrong and used her limited means to do so. We aren’t meant to agree with her actions, but I can’t fully blame her either. Men used their daughters or sisters bodies to achieve political ends via marriage, I’m not gonna be upset when an ASOIAF woman decides to achieve her own ends via sex. Obviously if she abuses someone, I’ll condemn that, but Arianne wasn’t. Arys is an adult, obsessed with her, he wants this. If he were her prisoner or she was threatening the life of his people/family, it would be wrong. So, to me, she isn’t Jon in the scenario (she didn’t have many options) and she wasn’t Dany (denying a person free will).

The show writing around Jon was so strange who knows what the intention was. Jon had political power, Jon should have taken Sansa’s advice and sent someone else to speak with Dany, so if we were being fair, Jon should have recognized his error instead of coming home pretty pleased with himself. Jon certainly regrets going to Dragonstone after his initial meeting with Dany, but I think the way they wrote the J/D interaction, we were meant to realize Dany wouldn’t have come North unless she had fallen in love with Jon. That’s what I saw in s7, and it is what she said in s8 which is…well, it means they’re indicating it was the right call. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Martin makes Arianne’s choice lead to disaster (gets condemned by the narrative), while the show justifies Jon’s risk taking. Another reason it’s impossible to create an equivalence, the books and show were written with totally different frames of reference. I suppose the distinction between the two is that Jon’s choice was selfless (giving up power) whereas Arianne’s was about securing her own rights but that’s only true if we ignore the fact that in s7 they acted like Jon didn’t have to kneel and he did it anyway ie it was no longer about the greater good. The writing in s7-s8 was so contradictory it’s hard to argue anything specific, but they seemed to want us to believe that Dany’s armies and dragons helped save the world which signals to the audience he was right. 🤷🏻‍♀️

ANYWAY, I would argue that pol jon isn’t as offensive as people claim it is by pointing out that Jon was a captive. D&D made quite a point about that, so it wasn’t the case that he pursued any form of relationship there or seduced Dany or wanted anything but her help, and if given the option, he would have left when she refused to help. He isn’t a predator, he’s the prey. This is why it is an Ygritte 2.0 situation. He wants to protect the North but ends up in the hands of the enemy, an enemy who develops an interest in him. The show made a lot of comparisons, but they also contrasted it, in that, it never seemed to me that Jon developed sincere feelings for Dany. It felt like, given the opportunity her own interest in him presented, he extended his compassion and went along with her interest to influence her for the greater good. Again, not for his own political gain, he gave up his crown, but he needed her dragons and armies or they would all die, and he needed to keep her from doing anything like what she kept suggesting (riding off and burning KL, for example, frightening the North by swooping in on dragon back etc) because she was so volatile. I have no explanation for what happened/why they tried to simultaneously say Jon was a true believer while he was actively guiding Dany and trying to keep her from going full fire and blood s7 on, but he was clearly concerned by her tendencies and worked to temper them. So, yes, he was manipulating her even without a pol Jon interpretation, but it’s clearly the right thing to do considering the circumstances and what would have happened if she wasn’t being encouraged to not give into her impulses.

With Ygritte we know the entire time that Jon has a sexual relationship with her that he is loyal to the Watch, but no one called Jon a rapist then, so I don’t think it makes him a bad person if he remained loyal to the North while with Dany. In both instances Jon was a prisoner, the woman had the power in the relationship, and the woman was consistently pursuing sex with Jon even when he wasn’t interested. (This is very clear in s8 when Dany keeps coming on to Jon when he is drunk or after he’s pushed her away). That is objectively wrong. People were more invested in Dany than Ygritte, so I understand why they might take her perspective on things and feel betrayal on her behalf, the way they didn’t for Ygritte, but that discrepancy, the fact that we know Jon was right to remain loyal to the Watch and “betray” Ygritte, that’s what tells me the objections to our interpretation of Jon s7-8 isn’t actually about applying a consistent standard. I’d be much more inclined to be sympathetic to criticism of our theories if the fandom acknowledged that book Ygritte is creepy and that Dany was creepy af in s8. Whether Jon loved those characters or not, they mistreated him, and if fans can’t admit that, we can’t have an honest conversation about the situation Jon was in. If they don’t want to consider the power dynamics at play, whether or not Jon was free to do what he wanted without dire repercussions, we can’t have a real conversation about his motivations or actions or any theories regarding them.

Ultimately, the fault is with D&D though. They knew their endgame and instead of committing to it and writing a path to their end, they wrote contradictory nonsense. Characters can make choices we don’t like, but it has to make sense for them to do so. D&D didn’t make those choices make sense. It’s very possible Jon and Dany don’t have a sexual relationship in the books, pol Jon was mainly an attempt to make sense of what show Jon was doing when we knew what Dany was about to do, but D&D ended the show without ever addressing the nonsense they made him do for two seasons straight. So frustrating!

#sorry---another old one! #dot chat #< tag to filter

[vizthedatum]

When an acquaintance from your childhood who becomes an emergency care physician tries to unethically offer a diagnosis on social media after you left an abusive relationship and have been intentionally public about your healing process…

My response:

I will take it the wrong way.

I’ve explored so many things in my mental and physical health journey as I navigate what happened in childhood and adulthood.

I explored BPD back in 2017 (not that I needed to reveal this).

I mean, like, none of you have my medical chart or the things I’ve tried in front of you.

I’ve been friends and colleagues with medical/healthcare professionals my whole career, and I really do resent that need to pathologize. It’s not fun.

I have severe PTSD (and other things!!). Coupled with Jon psychologically and physically abusing me during our relationship. While my choices are my own, I do have some understanding of why I’m feeling this way.

Most of the time, I’m painfully aware of what I’m feeling and why - doesn’t stop me from feeling how I’m feeling, you know? I’ve been through an immense amount of trauma - and I’m upset. We can take a deep dive into the DSM, but why assume I haven’t explored things? Do you know what it has taken me to get through life with the amount of abuse I’ve been subjected to? You don’t know the trials and the things I’ve tried. It’s offensive because… I’m not exactly “dumb” — I’m tangentially in the medical field so I have some knowledge on what I need to do.

And I’m open for more self understanding in the future as I go through this. In fact, I’m seeing my psychiatrist again this morning. Not that I need to justify my process to anyone.

I’m sorry that my emotional processing catapulted in you trying to come up with a possible diagnosis for me without any good reason. It’s a micro aggression.

Later I said:

I'm done with my psychiatrist appointment. I see her again next week. As it turns out, she has reaffirmed and validated that:

- I do not have BPD

- I *do* feel this loss so deeply - VERY deeply (and that it's valid to do so (obviously) and that it doesn't mean I have to "treat" or "diagnose" it right away... but maybe I just need to like FEEL how I'm feeling, in the context of me being a person (as we all are) with complex lives and trauma and etc.

- And a bunch of other things I do not think anyone (unless I decide otherwise) needs to know right now.

"Don't take this the wrong way," but I think you and everyone else could benefit from trying to understand the nuances of how we all interact with each other. Society (and medical care, for that matter) is ill and made up of constructs upon constructs. From a professional and personal standpoint, we need to challenge all of it, and we need to introspect. And we need to be ok with how people feel, including ourselves. We don't need to always come up with a reason why - or to judge if someone's emotional/physical response would be different than ours.

The way I envision the world is that we all try to reduce harm (whether it's intentional or unintentional, doesn't matter) to ourselves and to others.

#abuse #unsolicited #diagnosis #don't judge me #harm #domestic violence #neurodivergence #heartbreak #doctors #unnecessary