#which is 'there is an important woman in my life who could absolutely kick my ass so i have a healthy amount of respect/fear for her'

[waitineedaname]

the spectrum of fma characters' takes on fighting women, with the endpoints being Greed's "I won't fight women because it goes against the gentlemanly rules I learned in the 1700s" and Ed's "I will fight girls to PROVE I'm not sexist"

#fma #the panel in the manga when he's about to chase after paninya #and he goes I'M NOT SEXIST!! #it's my favorite #most other men in the series fall in the middle #which is 'there is an important woman in my life who could absolutely kick my ass so i have a healthy amount of respect/fear for her' #the examples that pop to mind are ling mustang and armstrong

[stcecelia]

Women in Scripture Day One: Eve

(first off, sorry for the delay in post. We have class every Tuesday evening, but this week has been crazy with work and also starting my online college classes. anyway on to my notes ! )

It seems very fitting that for our first lesson on women in scriptures this semester, we discussed the very first woman in the scriptures: Eve

To start the class, our instructor posed us the question: "How does Eve's life and example deepen my conversion to the Savior?"

Then we began reading scripture. We bounced between the book of Moses and the book of Genesis, but I mainly used the book of Moses since it's the JST :)

The first Scripture we read was Moses 3:18, which reads, "And I, the Lord God, said unto mine Only Begotten, that it was not good that the man should be alone; wherefore, I will make an help meet for him."

To be honest, I was never a fan of this verse. I didn't like the implication that God created women only to be a helper to men. That seems to be the most widely held belief in the general christendom; God created women second, and only to be subservient and submissive. Lower in rank and duty and worth.

You could say I've been a feminist my entire life, even well before I knew what the word was or its meaning (my mom tells me that when I was little, I used to constantly ask why when I turned twelve I wouldn't be able to get the priesthood like my twin brother would. It didn't seem fair to me as a young child that had been told my entire life growing up I as a girl could do anything a boy could do, and it still didn't for a good portion of my life. It was only until a couple years ago that I really grasped why, and was ok with it). So this idea that in my God's eyes I was lesser than any man angered me. I believe I wasn't put on this earth to be a lower, side-kick, passive, baby-making, subdued woman that would sit idly by while the more important men in my life made decisions and gained educations and ruled over me.

But here's the thing, that was never Heavenly Father's intention for me, or for Eve.

In the original Hebrew scripture, the word for "help meet" is "Ezer Kenegdo". "Ezer" means "help", but not in the way our modern English language would suggest. Instead of just being a passive helper, being an "Ezer" means to strengthen, protect, and provide sanctuary. "Ezer" was used twenty-one other times in the Old Testament, and was only otherwise used to describe protection against the greatest forces of evil, from armies, and for divine guidance and strength for all of humankind. Here are a few of these verses:

Exodus 18:4 "For the God of my Father, said he, was mine help [ezer] and delivered me from the sword of Pharaoh." Psalm 115:9 "O Israel, thou has destroyed thyself, but in me is thine help [ezer]." Hosea 13:9 "In me [the Lord] is thy help [ezer]."

With this knowledge we can say with absolute certainty that to be an "Ezer" is to be a stand in for God's protection and love.

"Kenegdo" is generally thought by scholar's to mean "opposite or corresponding to". Like a puzzle piece, is what my instructor said.

Combining these two words together, we know that God created Eve to be a different but important and equal counterpart to Adam, with special power to comfort and protect against evil. How wonderful is that!!! Whenever we as women serve or help protect our communities and families, we are fulfilling our God given roles as ezer kenegdos.

And this was just the first half of class!

For the second half, we discussed the story of Eve being tempted by Satan to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge, which led to her telling Adam to eat of the fruit, which led to their expulsion from the garden.

There are a few students in the institute who converted to the church only recently, and shared their previous religions perspectives on this scripture. That Eve was stupid and foolish, easily tricked by a much smarter man, and cursed all of mankind with the Fall that we should live in evil and misery and sin. But we are blessed to know, through living prophets and modern revelation, that the Fall was a necessary part of Heavenly Father's plan. In order for us to become more like Him, we need to have knowledge.

Lehi taught Jacob, "....wherefore they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin". It reminds me of the final season of The Good Place, which is one of my favorite TV shows of all time, where when the protagonists finally make it up to heaven they find that the constant state of happiness has become insurmountably boring, and there's no real joy to be found. We can only appreciate wonderful things if we know what it means to be miserable.

2 Nephi 2:25 (the best scripture verse, IMO) sums it up entirely for us: "Adam fell that men might be, and men are that they might have joy."

Eve knew this, and she made the right decision. She was never remorseful, saying "were it not for our transgressions we ... never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient" (Moses 5:11).

So, how does Eve's life deepen my conversion to the Savior? Through her, I can be an ezer to the people in my life, and can comfort myself with the knowledge that through her's and Adam's transgression, I can find greater knowledge on both spiritual and worldly matters, and make mistakes that will lead me to grow closer to my Heavenly Parents. Through the "Fall" and the Gospel of our Savior Jesus Christ, I can repent for my sins and imperfections and develop into the woman God knows I can and will become

Amen!

#women in scripture #institue #lds institute class #ldsblr #pro lds #pro mormon #mormon positive #tumblrstake #queerstake #mormonism #Eve #adam and eve #The Fall #the garden of eden #scripture #this was a great class!! im so excited for the next one #I hope this is coherent for anyone who reads it haha I was kinda word vomiting #next week is Sarah who was Abraham's wife!

[kaelio]

So, in discussing David Talbot, who is okay but in my view not really all that interesting, here's where I'd have taken him if I wanted him to really stand out in the crew (where otherwise, he feels a bit outclassed). TOTBT and onward:

Option 1: Make him the full complement to Gretchen and let him be the "man" of Lestat being interested in having sex with a woman and a man during his assumed sojourn. Just get some nasty old man sex going on, balls flapping all over Hell's half-acre. Lestat flatly wanted to do this, so it's not a reach. Use that to pivot to David being something that otherwise we haven't seen at that point: an exclusively homosexual person who becomes a vampire (which is a very credible read of David as of TOTBT). We witness Lestat's bisexuality before he even dies, and Armand as well, and for the rest there's some level to which it might have been the case but the largely de-gendered and sexless existence makes it an obvious condition over a significant amount of time. But vampirism tends to free people of limitations they had in life, and just as Gabrielle got to be largely freed of human concepts of femininity, David could then be in an environment where, for the first time, no one gives a shit and his sexuality (to whatever extent he maintains it) isn't important, and have him grapple with that or at least discuss it. Have him be the vehicle for looking into human LGBT issues if that's something the series ever wanted to do. Maybe it's weird for him, or freeing, or frustrating that this has changed and maybe it's frustrating that the existing vampires don't really "get" it in a completely different way.

2. Once Lestat's done turning him against his will, have him basically be the perennial baby vampire and never at all powerful. So, Big Bad David, who has/had awesome mind powers (which maybe he loses) and can Shoot A Gun (vampires don't care), and was head of the Talamasca (they forward vampire mail, also sorry, Teskhamen secretly has the vampire role filled), is now a weak fledge. Weaker than Louis. This tiger-hunting predatory bastard is now the absolute lowest tier of his new community. Predator among prey to prey among predators. A nice inversion! Goes from Hot, Cool, New Body-Thief'd David, ready to live life again as a sexy and youthful man, and maybe do some more trophy hunting along the way, and gets an upgrade that's a downgrade. It bugs me in the books he's taken seriously too quickly. Have this David just be a perennial wiener as a vampire. Lestat still thinks he's impressive, but everyone else sees him as Lestat's saddest, weakest little toy. Totally supplants Louis in that respect, now Louis has been upgraded to legit. Now, David does have the scary vibes, but all the worse when it's revealed he just doesn't have the oomph to back that up. He flirts with Armand like in the beginning of TVA and Armand thinks, hmm! New dom?? And that lasts about 11 hours before Armand realizes David just doesn't have the juice. Then they're both humiliated. This David is perhaps extra sneaky to try to make up for it, but constantly faces the fact that if he'd died in his own body he'd have died with some kind of dignity and now he's cursed and even Benji can kick his ass. It's going to be a thousand years before he graduates from bunnyrabbit, and either way, he's not the wolf he was. He's all bark. I think this would have been a fun shakeup and filled an interesting niche.

#tvc

[aella-targaryen]

The Women's War. Predictions and character analysis: Alicent and Rhaenyra.

Well, these last few days I have been traveling with my family and since I am FORBIDDEN to write at family gatherings, I have escaped to the bathroom to write the responses of my dear anons-

But it is until this moment that I have finally reached my cave room that I have total freedom to write about the preview of episode 6 that HBO has released.

In this advance we see a Rhaenyra as we have never seen her before, pale, trembling, hunched over, sweaty and disheveled holding her newborn son in her arms and trying to walk just a few moments after her delivery to see Queen Alicent which I ask for her immediate prescience. And the truth was a scene that made me boil with rage.

In our society, both in ancient and modern times, we have certain unwritten rules, among them are not kicking puppies, not hitting the elderly and respecting our parents. Another unwritten rule is to protect pregnant people and newborns. Have you ever helped someone who is pregnant or holding a baby in their arm? It's almost instinctive, isn't it? We get anxious and go into a state of alert when a person in an advanced state of pregnancy or with a baby in their arms passes by our side. We immediately look at them to make sure they don't trip, to offer our help to carry something , to offer our help to pick up something they have dropped or help them cross the street. Pregnant people and babies usually arouse our compassion and protective instinct.

Well, it seems that Alicent has suppressed her instinct for pity. Regardless of the state of Rahenyra or her child, she turned a situation as beautiful as welcoming a new baby into the family into an act of humiliation and no one other than Laneor is on Rahenyra's side to help her.

What do I get from all this? Information. It seems that the entire court is commanded by Alicent and that no one dares to question her domain, it seems that the King, who was already a weak man, now due to his health problems no longer has any strength to protect his daughter.

This makes us see how Rhaenyra is a woman oppressed by power and yet there is something in her at that moment that tells us that she has not lost her pride or her will to fight. The way she doesn't complain at Alicent's cruel order and she complies with it, it´s says. The way she walks despite the pain barely letting out a moan of pain, it´s says. The way she is determined to be the one to hold her son to introduce him to her step-grandmother, it´s says. There is courage in her stance and challenge in her eyes. And it is all these attitudes that seem to infuriate Alicent. Because she could never be a shameless woman and therefore could never be as free as Rhaenyra.

Despite what Alicent may believe, she is not a strong woman, or at least not as strong as she could have been. The most fundamental decisions of her life: Which man should she marry, how many children should she have, when to have sex. They were always decisions made by the men in her life, her husband and her father. Now as an adult woman it seems that her decisions will be governed by other things: religion, her rigid moralism, her desire for revenge and her maternal fears.

But at no time does she reveal her true self, which was suppressed many years ago. We don't know what Alicent the Free Woman wants, all we know is what Alicent The Queen, Alicent The Mother, Alicent The Grandmother, Alicent The Wife, Alicent The Daughter, wants. The different roles that she plays are nothing more than her own ties to her, her chains to her. And the fact that Alicent has suppressed her true self is what, in my opinion, has made her a petty and mean person, as we can guess that it will be from the advances of the Ep. Only a mean person could be so cruel to humiliate two beings so helpless.

In the books, Alicent lost the most important thing: Her mind . She died without knowing who she really was, in absolute madness. At least Rhaenyra died as she was.

In the following episodes I think we will see the worst of Alicent The Chained Woman.

On the other hand Rahenyra from ep. 1 to ep. 5 has always been Rhaenyra The Free Woman and it seems that she would continue to be throughout the first season. She will take what she wants, do what she wants and survive on her terms. No one will impose anything on her and at the same time she will try by all possible means to fulfill her quasi-divine duty: to continue the reign of the Tragaryens and that from her blood the prince that was promised to them be born.

Rahenyra is the antithesis of Alicent. And the world would not be big enough to contain them both.

This is why I sense that the Dance of the Dragons will be a war between two women, between The Free Woman and The Chained Woman.

by the way olivia and emma look gorgeous. They both play two great characters.

#hotd #daemon targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x daemon #rhaenrya targaryen #rhaneyra targaryen #hotd spoilers #house of the dragon spoilers #daemyra #daenyra #queen alicent #alicent hightower #rhaenyra my beloved

[eponastory]

Checkmate

A Vergil short story.

Picture credit goes to : Drusoona

because I love this mod.

Takes place in the Pieces of Me universe, two years post DMC5.

I had the idea while watching a movie.

Evan beats Vergil at a game of chess, and he reflects on how things have changed.

It was a stalemate.

Both opponents were evenly matched.

This was way more than Vergil bargained for when he challenged his niece to a game of chess. Evan was a far better opponent than Dante ever was, which Vergil contributed to her stellar performance in education. The young woman often bragged about how she was an A plus student. That and college was teaching her how to be adept at playing fools. Needless to say, he was actually quite proud of how far the apple fell from the tree on this one.

He watched as she slowly smirked when she moved her white king right up to his black one.

"Checkmate." She said slowly.

To be fair, it was a very bloody match.

"Alright, fine." He knocked his king over with his finger. "You win this time." Even though he was playing the sore looser, he was incredibly proud. Not many people had the smarts to beat him at his own game. All of them were in the same room. "But next time..."

"I know." Evan smiled. "You won't loose to me." To be fair, he said that every match.

"You don't go easy on me at all." Not that he expected her to. He only went easy on her the first time they ever played a year ago. Ever since then, she had won against him quite a few times, but he was ahead of her by a considerable margin. "I appreciate that."

"What can I say? I'm just that honest." She began to put the pieces back on the board. "Besides, we both know that you'd kick my ass in actual combat every time."

"Of course, but I don't have the heart to hurt you." How could he when she had battled her way through hell to find Dante. She was much braver than she let on. "Besides, one always has to know when to give in." Vergil placed his pieces back on the board before standing up.

"Hey, what are you two blabbering on about now?" Dante walked over to them with a yawn. It was obvious that he had been sleeping through the entire match. "Who won?"

"Your daughter." Vergil stood up from the couch while Evan stayed seated on the floor with her legs crossed. "Proof once again that she is smarter than you."

"I never said she wasn't." Dante shrugged. Arguing had no point anymore. "Anyway, I'm about to head out for some grub. Want to go?"

"You paying, Dad?" Evan looked up at him.

"No, I was planning to dine and dash." Dante put on a serious face. "Of course I'm paying." He rolled his eyes as he held a hand out to her.

"That's good, because I'm a broke college student." She said grabbing his hand and letting him help her up.

"If you need money, all you have to do is ask, Evan." Vergil spoke up. He would absolutely give her money if she needed it. She worked hard to get her education, which was important to her.

"I'll keep that in mind." She gave him a happy smile. Obviously her life was happier now that things had changed so much. For the better. "Besides, Dad is pretty good at sending money when he gets a good job."

Well, at least between he and Dante, Evan would not go without. Nero tended to do things on his own, so he often rejected any help offered. Of course, that could also be because there was still some hurdles to leap over in their relationship. It was clear to Vergil that he would never have the relationship with Nero that Dante and his daughter shared. That closeness only came with acceptance and Nero was still not there yet.

With Evan around, she had softened that steel heart of his. Even if it meant sacrificing a knight or a queen for a chance to win against her.

He smiled as she and Dante resumed their normal father-daughter banter. It did feel good knowing both of them were happy, even if he was not quite there yet.

Maybe a game of chess with Nero could clear the air.

That was a thought.

#devil may cry #vergil fanfiction #vergil #dantes daughter #dante #dante sparda #vergil sparda #fanfic #devil may cry fanfiction #one shot #i cant help myself #i need the feels #everyone needs the feels

[razieltwelve]

Interview (Final Rose)

"You know," the old woman said. "We used to put bets on which one of us would die last. It was pretty funny back then." Her lips twitched. "But it's a lot less funny now."

The interviewed wasn't sure whether or not she should laugh. In the end, she decided to press on. "How do you think history will view you and the other heroes from the past few generations?"

The old woman chuckled. "They're already mythologising us. I wish they'd at least wait until I was dead, but I can't really blame them for getting on with it since I've been sticking around a lot longer than anyone expected." She grinned. "The thing about people is that they go from heroes to legends remarkably quickly. Just look at my parents and siblings."

"Oh?" The interviewer leaned forward. "Could you clarify?"

"Take my sister, for example. Yes, she basically wrote the book on logistics and how to combine disparate social, political, and military systems, but nobody ever talks about how she killed just about every plant she ever owned. Nobody ever mentions the grumpiness, her tendency to approach social situations with the delicacy and subtlety of a bazooka, and her soft spot for people in her family that could just as easily give way to tyranny."

"Some people might say that her contributions to logistics and overarching civilisational systems theory were more important."

"And those people would be idiots. Those are things she did. They weren't who she was. A thousand years from now, people will be poring over all the stuff she did and wondering how the hell she pulled it off. I can guarantee you that basically none of them will consider the possibility that who she was played a large part in allowing her to do the things she did."

"What do you mean?"

"Ever wonder why she came up with ways to combine disparate systems? She was sick of having to deal with everybody's crap. Developing a way to control the entire thing let her spend more time with her family and less time stabbing people who couldn't get along."

"I... see."

"And don't even get me started on my parents. I love my mother. She was an absolutely amazing parent. But people are already glossing over or ignoring her early life and how much of a jerk she was back then."

"You're calling Lightning Farron a jerk?"

"Absolutely. I'm her daughter. I get to do that. My mother was a jerk for much of her early life. Her idea of leadership was terrorising people into doing what she said. It took throwing her onto a team of equally stubborn idiots for her to change. Even then, I'm not sure she ever would have if she hadn't met my mom, who was basically the first person in her entire life that she couldn't just kick the crap out of."

"You want people to remember those things?"

"Of course! I don't want people treating us like we were gods! I want people to remember us how we actually were because how can you possibly appreciate all the good properly if you just ignore all the bad? How are people going to learn anything from our lives if we just pretend that we were perfect to start with?"

"That is one way you can look at."

"And it's not just my family. It's all of the others too. My Aunt Lumina hasn't even been dead for more than a few decades, and people outside of our family are already trying to downplay her role in my Aunt Vanille's success."

"But your Aunt Vanille was arguably the greatest genius in Remnant's history, wasn't she?"

"She was, but she never would have done as much as she did if my Aunt Lumina hadn't been with her all those years. Who do you think she bounced ideas off? Who do you think proofread her papers and got her to clarify herself? Who do you think got her to put her thoughts to paper in a way that other people could actually understand? If my Aunt Vanille had her way, her papers would have been written in supremely compressed Ancient Dia. There would have been maybe ten people in the world who could have understood them. But now you've got a whole bunch of historical 'experts' proclaiming her some kind of isolated, solitary genius. That's bullshit. My Aunt Vanille was a genius, yeah, but she didn't do all of her work alone. What do you think Raine and I did all those years? Just hang around and drink coffee? And the less I say about how my Uncle Hope's contributions have been minimised, the better. Honestly, if it weren't for Penny, people would have written him out of history already."

"That's a very strong stance to take."

"I take it because some of you people are idiots. Some people would rather spin some fanciful story than actually talk about what really happened. That's fine, but don't call it history."

"Is there a lesson you'd like to pass onto the future?"

"Yeah. People need to remember that we weren't the first major civilisation on Remnant. There were others before us. Each and every one of them got wiped out by the Grimm. Our victory was built on a foundation of blood and sacrifice that stretches back millennia. We cannot forget our past because we owe it not only to ourselves but also to all the people who dreamed of victory over the Grimm to build a brighter future. I'll be kicking the bucket in a few years, ten at the most, and then it won't be long before there isn't anyone else left except Penny and the lawnmower, that old curmudgeon, who can remember everybody else. People are going to forget. That's inevitable. But I want them to keep the past in mind because without it, we wouldn't have a future ahead of us."

"I... see."

"Look, we shouldn't chain ourselves to the past, but we shouldn't forget where we came from either. Cherish the past, savour the present, and brighten the future. Look to the stars, but don't forget to keep your feet on the ground."

Excerpt from an interview with Diana Yun-Farron given approximately a decade before her death. Diana notably outlived every single major figure from the previous generation and her generation and most of the major figures from the following generation as well. She remains the oldest known bearer of Ragnarok by a considerable margin.

#final rose #fanfiction #diana yun farron

[39confetti]

Introducing you to one of my OC (rp Uncanny Valley)

So, most of you do not care about it, which is perfectly okay (I am absolutely nobody after all) but I'd like to share with you my OC Lucie.

Context :

I created her for a rp I'm doing with @atomicfr0g , that take place in Uncanny Valley (but actually we mixed A LOT of other franchise like Sunnyday Jack, Tate Frost and other horror/romance visual novels...) in our rp, we're a part of the PSD (paranormal supervision district) which is a branch of the FBI. There has been strange disappearance in a lost island called "Uncanny Valley". No proof, no digital print, nothing, our OCs have been sent there to learn what is going on and study paranormal events.

My OC : Lucie Lacroix

She's a 32yo woman, and her missions are always linked to paranormal activities and unknown events.

She grew up in France, at Bordeaux, her family used to be extremely religious, spending more time at the church than with their children. She have 2 sisters and 5 brothers. As the oldest sister, she had to raise them while her parents were helping the community. This experience brought her patients and a certain talent to remain calm. But the love her family felt toward god drove her mad, and she developed a perfectionist trait that she can't control. Everything must be perfect so she can have some attention, even if it's for 5 seconds. But worse than that, she have an important interest into divinities and demons. At some points in her life Lucie had a dream. To become a goddess, to control people, to see their actions and to be worshipped. Even tho her dream seems gone, it didn't totally disappear and could at some point, make her a danger.

They flew away from France, infested by atheist and moved to America. During high school, she had a boyfriend, sweet, kind and everything nice. At least, she thought he was nice. But he couldn't handle her wish of superiority. So one day, to humble her, he tried to leak her nude, but she didn't let him get away with this, they fought during lunchtime, which led her family to know about the pictures. At her 18th birthday, she was kicked out of her home because of this event . She worked as a cashier, but couldn't stop searching about paranormal events and creatures around the globe. At the age of 23, after a lot of work, she participated in the entrance exam of the FBI, which she successfully passed.

Determined, strict, and observant, she's the perfect woman to send on negotiations missions. Her superiors were surprised when she asked to be in the paranormal branch. With such a tongue, she could have been in any other teams, yet she have chosen the one everyone is making fun of. Her god complex make her think that if she approaches such creatures one day, she could maybe have more power, not only over the fbi, but over humanity. Lucie doesn't truly work FOR the fbi, well, she officially do work for them, but to her, she mostly work for her own sake. Now, she have always found a reasonable reason to the paranormal events, but Lucie still has hope. A real mystery will come into her hand one day.

Her dream of being a goddess is still hidden in a secret closet. Who knows when she'll let it out...

Note : Okay I know like this she kind of sound... Too powerful? But her strength is pretty low, it's her charisma and manipulation that make her a great agent.

#uncanny valley oc #Oc #oc rp #John Doe Oc #John Doe game oc #John Doe game #No one cares but hey why not #Original Character #Doezona

[nitefyre443]

Song of the Moon and Sun

Song of the Moon and Sun 

By 

Nitefyre 443

I'm a huge Castlvania fan, I can’t tell you how much I love this game and franchise. I fell in love with the whip wielding vampire slaying Belmont's, Dracula, Alucard, all of it. I have not played every Castlevania game because there are a lot of them. My first Castlevania game was Castlevania II: Simon's Quest on the NES, Castlevania: Symphony of the Night being one of my all time favorite games. Also as many Castlavania fans I’m  heartbroken at the state of this important and beloved franchise. This is why the Deat’s Brother’s and Powerhouse’s Castlevania Animated Series excite me so much. They seem to be the only people who give a damn about this world, its story and its character because Konami could care less. So when Castlevania Nocturne the follow up to Castlevainia was announced, I was ready and Powerhouse Animation did not disappoint.  

What I’m going to talk about today is the music video for this song “I’m Free” by  Sydney James Harcourt  and Lindsey Stirling. What a beautiful song that serves as the character theme for not only Annette but Richter and Marie as well.  Watch the video here and let it play along while readying because damn Sydney James Harcourt and Lindsey Stirling did the thing with this one.

So the song and video starts with clips of Annette's childhood, with beautiful gentle and sorrowful lyrics   

See them stand ready to die  For whose sake  Was life fair?  

The way one could look at the start of the song is Edouard as an observer, a freed man himself  seeing his people in chains, literally worked and beaten to death for the sake of those that enslaved them, that is blatant and in  your face. However there is a lovely duality to this song when applied to the Belmont's in the context of Castlevania itself. Yes both meanings are valid and true to both Annette and Richter. I will go further into what this song means for Richter, his story and his legacy within the Castlevania franchise but let's say making his love interest and romantic partner, formerly enslaved Black woman, is absolutely brilliant on the writer's  part. Especially for Richter post the events of Symphony of the Night.  So we move to the next part of the verse 

Pleasure pleased and power gained  Slay I deal death, enough they seek to slay   

This part is one that I love and I’m all over the place about it. It feels very much from a vampire's perspective, this could be seen as applicable to Olrox in some way even though he is not shown in the video. The way the video presents it, makes it look like Annette's struggling as a child realizing she is going to have to kill to survive. There are no ways around it. I’m going to need to stew on this more. 

Sick at heart  Wicked betrayal  Another life escaping sight  The realm of flesh  were all things change  That life is mine and I am there x2 

Annette is now a “runaway” slave which is horrific in its own rights, a girl running for her very life  in a place where people saw her as nothing more than livestock to be sold, worked, bred and traded. There was no one who she could trust, absolutely no one. She is terrified and alone at this point with no place to go on an island with a slave master's dogs at her heels  Until she  fatefully runs into the opera house where Edouard is performing. This is the point where the song takes a dramatic shift from a lonely melody to this amazing warmth, life and full of color when the chorus kicks in. 

I’m free x2  unbound by fear that’s holding me  Holding, holding, holding, holding,  Holding me 

Now we move into the second verse and we see clips of when Annette first met Edouard, the first person that gave her refuge and trust when she was alone. Also this first time where Lindsey Stirling violin far more clearly, it was in the background earlier much subdued. This is important because each character is tied to an instrument. For Richter it’s the violin which can express sorrow and grief but also freedom and boldness. Maria’s the French Horn, why the French horn because Maria is a lot like that horn. She is loud and you will hear what she has to say on freedom whether you like it or not. The French horn has a very distinct sound and often heroic sound, we know it when we hear it and it’s declaration, so it just fits. Annette is the drums and percussion which by the start to come on strong in this second verse. 

Death am I, immortal life Touch the sky again and repent  The dark alive inside of me  Loving made  But makes no sense 

The drums being Annette's instrument is so perfect, her being the descendant of Ogun the Yoruba god of War and Iron on her fathers side, war and drums are like peanut butter and jelly.  This goes even deeper because drums are some of the first musical instruments we as humans created, anything can be a drum they are as old as you can get for instruments or than our singing voices. Hold up, who is the first person she meets oh it’s Edouard an opera singer, well  look at that. This is the part of the song where percussion kicks in strong as we cover Annette and Edouard time fighting in Saint-Domingue during the slave rebellion that kicked the French's sorry asses off the island that would become Haiti. This verse also has  Annette realizing her rage not anger but rage. Anger is not a strong enough word. What I love about Castlevania:Nocturne is that it does not chastise Annette for her rage, it is justified and the weapon she wields, but it is not the source of her strength. “You wield rage but it is not the source of your strength” This is where  “Loving made but made no sense” applies that rage is born from being subjected to brutality and injustice beyond what anyone should live through. From witnessing so many you love taken away by such senseless cruelty. The source of her strength is love and the rage born of when that love is wronged by injustice and cruelty. Where it can’t stand to witness the sight of such brutality and action must be taken. Remember love and war are often bedfellows.   

The potency of evil kings  None can parish trust in me  None can perish trust in me  

This is where we hear Richter’s violin in the background and a little of Maria’s French horn. This little section covers the first night the trio meets and its the first time you here all three of the respective instruments together in the song. Annette's drums and percussion, Richter's violin and Maria's French horn but they are not unified yet, they are all still on separate paths but not one unified song.

I’m Free x 2  Unbound by fear that’s holding me Holding, Holding me   

Just like in the series when the trio meets there is tension and bumping up against each other. You have a set of wounded people fighting to survive in cruel times learning to trust each other.  This moves into the second chorus where Annette's percussion becomes much more clearer, defined and vibrant, she knows who she is and like a good drummer she is setting rhythm, she is the cadence it which the trio marches. Maria French horn settles in nicely as she is already very clear  on what she believes. 

I’m Free x 2  My love, My light  Will shine on thee  Will shine on, shine on, shine on, shine 

Richter’s violin is here  but still very distant in the background. Just like in the series he’s not quite there yet. It’s not until he see’s Annette during her speech that he realizes, “Oh shit, she is the one”  The shown in lovely fashion with a clip Richter awe struck during her speech. Also notice the lyrics changed. No longer is it just “unbound by fear”, its “My love, my light will shine on thee” Annette offering the same hand to Richter that Edouard offered her. See what they did there. Now we jump into a damn amazing part of the things and build up this just chefs kiss 

My heart set on truth That no fire can contain  Burnin the body lay life in the flame   I scoured the good  And I thrusted the Evil Back  Sacrificed everything  Watched as it burned to ash   No more self pity  No more will I wait  I’m breaking a path  That will take me away   From this place 

Remember when I said this was also Richter's song, well here it is because this part is all him and the Belmont's, this furious build up all this emotion the pain, fear, love, hate, having the generations fighting the shadows in the night. Him being the last descent of the family of Vampire slayers, being so terrified when faced with his own trauma and nightmare he did the only thing he remembered to do, the last words his mother said  to him “Richter, run” Remember everyone starts out running. Now, though he is running no more, because he is not alone in this fight anymore, the Belmont's, who are never really alone, he has his friends, his family, his love, his deadbeat grandfather Juste, and a pain in the ass recluse mentor Alucard. This is where Lindsey Stirling comes in with the violin and his melody as clear, bright, bold and triumphant as it must be for Richter Belmont, where we see him tie his famous white bandana around his head and become the Richter we know that kicked the monster of the night asses. Even giving us a clip of him using the greatest magical technique the Belmont's used, The Grand Cross. Yes that was the  burst of flame ya’ll saw when he faced off against the Hunters on the lake. 

Now I’m Free  Now I’m Free  Unbound by fear that holding me Holding me  Now I’m free  Now I’m free  My Love, My light  Will Shine on the 

The song is their song finally coming together clear, and bold.  Richter violin, Annette's percussion  Edouard voice, Maria French Horn, and even a choir saying cheering them on saying “Shine on”  which we can say is Julia, Juste, Annette mother, Tera, and those that came before urging them forward.  Also the lyrics change again, to "Now, I’m Free." It’s just no longer saying they are free, it’s now a declaration, not just a wish but a statement of fact. They are free and no longer afraid to face the denizens of the night. 

What a journey this song was in the 4 minutes and 27 seconds we were with it but what a perfect song for Castlevania: Nocturne.  A song that is Annette’s song but very much it’s Richter's song by the end because he is a Belmont he is the clear unifying melody where everything just comes together. Richter is so important for not just his martial prowess, but because he was one the last Belmont's to solely by himself wield the Vampire Killer. After the events of Castlevania:Symphony of the Night, realizing that it could not just be the Belmont's who wield these powers to fight the monsters of the night. He trained others and he placed an enchantment on the Vampire Killer that if one wished to wield it they would fight his shadow, if they won they would be allowed to wield it, if not, the Vampire Killer killed them. He made it so more than just the Belmont's duty to fight the night, it was not just one family's legacy anymore, The family legacy itself being a very old world concept, any and everyone could take up arms. This theme runs through the period of history in which Castlevania: Nocturne takes place the fights for independence and revolution. Richter reforms lead to the creation of the Order of Ecclesia. The theme of an animated series featuring Richter Belmont being titled “I’m Free” has so much meaning not just in the narrative of this story set within the Castlevainia world but for the franchise itself.  Some Ster Werms shade Richter is everything Luke should have been and what Ben Solo could have been for Star Wars. 

Now if we could just get Castlevania free from  Konami and get some new games.  

#castlevania #castelvania: nocturne #Meta analysis #Youtube

[bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls]

when you were younger, did you ever imagine the internet growing the way it has or that you’d one day control the lives of many, have global reach, be the overlord of multiple living breathing human beings, and the founder of a cult-lite made up of who knows how many dedicated and adoring fans, all who found you through a shitty blogging website? Hell I grew up with the internet in full swing and that even seems outlandish to me

in short: how do you deal with that lol I’d be stressin

 RE: imagine the internet growing the way it has?

Depends on what part we’re looking at:

In terms of infrastructure: Up until about 2010? Yes. My early 90s vision for the internet and what it looked like in 2010 lined up pretty well. But I didn’t foresee the rise of algorithmic advertising and timelines, which was a huge miss on my part.

In terms of culture: Once upon a time, I thought the most important thing I could contribute to the world would be creating spaces for open, challenging, responsible conversation between rational adults.

But then smartphones came along… I expected the phones, but not the mass adoption of them. I expected Crackberries for semi-nerds, not iPhones for eight year olds. And suddenly the internet was flooded with, well… idiots. There had always been assholes and trolls and creeps, but they’d at least been bright-ish, and more importantly, invested in being seen to be bright. They respected intelligence enough to fear looking like fools, and that moderated their behavior.

You can talk to a smart asshole. You can manage a bright troll. You can apply peer-pressure to a clever creep. It might be exhausting, but you can do it. Because ultimately, everyone involved wants to be a functional member of the community.

We lost that. And I absolutely didn’t see it coming. I had no idea how quickly stupidity —when forced into a realm where intellect dominates— turns into nihilism.

RE: one day control the lives of many

By my mid-twenties, yes, I had an idea I would. I was deeply in denial about several aspects of the job, and frankly afraid of it… but it was there. Waiting to happen.

Did I know the internet would be integral to the development of that control? Again, yes. From the moment I first dialed in to a local BBS, I knew I’d found my medium. I mean, the first girl I met online moved in with me and never left… obviously, this is where I was meant to be.

As for global reach… honestly, no, I didn’t plan for it. The early online spaces were very U.S.-centric, and I seldom encountered people from outside my country unless I went looking for them.

No, I did not foresee the overlord bit. The hub of a harem? Sure. I knew I had that in me. The bigger things, the more profound things… they had to dawn on me slowly.

And the cult…? When I was eight, I convinced all the neighborhood kids to attend my afterschool classes, where I whipped them with sticks when they failed to answer questions I knew they were too ignorant to answer. When I was sixteen, I spurred a walk-out at my high school because I wanted to watch a movie in class and I knew better than the teachers. In my twenties, I led a schism in an online community because I thought we belonged on the web and I knew better than the grown-ups. I haven’t always been comfortable with it, but people are generally happier when I’m in charge.

And I’m happier when they make it worth my while.

RE: outlandish

I lost my virginity to a married woman who became so clingy that I had to convince her she was a lesbian to make her leave me alone. For my 21st birthday, all the women who worked with me at a retail store pooled their money and ordered me a stripper, then kicked management out of the next morning’s meeting so those on the day-shift could watch the video of the event. The foremost love of my life met me at the door of a hotel room with a collar around her neck and a loaded .357 in her purse.

And all of that was before AOL mailed their first floppy.

So yeah, I knew shit was going to get weird.

RE: how do I deal with that?

I remind myself that they’re here for me, and do my best.

#asks

[neverhangd]

doing bits and bobs on the blog, obviously. rn i'm in potc hell (thank the gang lmao, s/o for dealing with me go to: @mvrtogg, @itismissswann, @norringtxn / @collectorofmuses), and i just realized that the majority of people who follow me may not have read this page (or even known it existed!), so i wanted to give two important bits of context!

1.) anne bonny walked so her archetypes could run.

i literally found out two weeks ago that anne bonny isn't stupid famous. whaaaaaat? but actually, that did shock me. maybe it's because i had two pirates phases and like research, but i've known a little bit about her since i was a kid: specifically, that she was a kick-ass pirate woman. i've learned a lot more since then, and i love to share it; i joined a group that i thought had a pirate phase only to learn that...they hadn't. and had no idea who anne bonny was outside of being a character someone before me had written as well.

it was exactly then that i realized anne bonny isn't a super famous kick-ass pirate woman and i felt like that one part of dogma. someone was trying to explain how my take on anne bonny both was and wasn't in-line with the previous writer's and it took me a while to realize they were asking what show or book i used for canon because they doubted she was the same character, despite sharing the archetypes. so. just so it's out there, here's an incomplete list of archetypes we can apply to the historical figure anne bonny, kick-ass pirate woman:

riches to rags (gave up a privileged life to marry a pirate)

the redhaired irish

girlboss/tits out for piracy (she would famously whip her shirt off in battle so men would know they'd been killed by a woman)

did it for love (left her first husband and became a pirate with her second)

it's a love story (whatever else they were, history tells us jack and anne were in love, even if i don't usually use that on this blog)

three's company, too (anne and read were absolutely an item at the same time as anne and jack)

ambiguously queer (i advocate for a bisexual anne, but the only lady-type lover she took was read, who can be fairly read as transmasc, putting some doubt on the full connotation of her orientation/s)

short fuse (she was known to fight over basically anything)

2.) what in the url?

since anne bonny isn't the kickass pirate bicon of my dreams--we'll get her there, one day!--it's relevant to also share what the fuck my url actually means. because she was a woman a pirate a woman and a pirate alive during the early 18th century, we actually don't have much record of anne speaking for herself. the most popularly known quote we have was spoken directly to jack rackham just before his execution:

if [you] had fought like a man, [you] need not have been hang'd like a dog. -A General History of Pyrates, Daniel Defoe

she said this to him because he and his men were the reason the ship had been caught and they had been taken prisoner and she took that very personally, as well she should! (it turns out that both anne and read were pregnant, anne by jack and read by their husband.) the larger thing is, she wasn't wrong: when the ship was invaded, only three people stood on the deck fighting: read, anne, and an unnamed pirate who presumably died in the struggle. everyone else was hiding below decks. read, in fact, famously fired TWICE down at the hiding men, killing one and injuring another.

the really wild part of all this, though, is the ending of anne's story. we don't know it.

anne's execution was stayed on account of her pregnancy, as was read's. read would die in prison from a fever, and presumably their child did as well; anne, on the other hand, simply...disappeared.

...but what is become of her since, we cannot tell; only this we know, that she was not executed. -A General History of Pyrates, Daniel Defoe (which, if you keep wondering why i'm referencing it, is considered THE source)

officially speaking, we may literally NEVER know what happened to anne. all we know is she NEVERHANGD.*

thank you for your time and attention! ♡

#✗ out of character #✗ dash commentary #✗ rp commentary #* but ask me about what probably happened #✗ herstory

[malpal132]

I've recently been watching Succession and the dark humor element reminded me of your work and you've said before you're a big succession fan. As any completely stable dramione consumer would, I couldn't help but try to fit these two idiots into a succession au but me being me I resigned myself to ask a more talented person about how they would go about making setting up this au? Would Lucius be Logan? Would you give Draco siblings and how would he deal with that? How would Hermione come into this and how would she and Draco scheme for corporate takeover?

anon...what have you done to me? this ask has consumed me. swallowed me whole and spit me back out ass backwards. but listen, i tried. i tried to keep it dramione. the issue is that it wouldn't make the best dramione story, imo, but it would make a decent panville.

this is gonna be a whole thing, so buckle up. i'm walking you through my thought process.

shiv first, for once in her life: my initial thought was ginny (only girl in a family of boys, always fighting for her place, fiery attitude, etc.) but shiv's dynamic with tom is so essential and when it comes to that toxic sort of relationship, i think pansy parkinson fits better. she's cutthroat and not overly sentimental. which brings me to--

tom: who is easy to underestimate and would neeeeever be the dom in the relationship with shiv!pansy? neville longbottom. obviously he's a particularly shitty version of neville who's never quite fit in and takes his power trips where he can find them, but he is genuinely in love with his wife and she's never taken him seriously. you know who does take him seriously?

greg: gregory goyle. and not just because his name is greg already! his cleverness is constantly underestimated but he was sorted into slytherin for a reason. despite being known a bit of an oaf, he's always craved proximity to power and knows how to play the part of a cronie. also the homoerotic undercurrent between him and neville!tom are very important to me.

logan: severus snape. he could be many things in this au, whether it's a uni potions professor (like those exist, lmao) with only one fellowship to offer or it could be a company. he loves a power trip and doesn't care about traumatizing any of his "kids." 1000% doesn't think anybody can do it better than he can, and he might be right.

kendall: draco malfoy, obviously. he's always seen himself as the favorite and, having grown up in the lap of luxury, he's used to getting what he wants. wholeheartedly believes that he's the best option despite being crippled by insecurity and ever so occasionally, by empathy. he wants to trust people even though it keeps getting his ass kicked. would absolutely ask for logan!snape's help to cover up some legal trouble that he gets in and mistake logan!snape's willingness to help for love when it's really leverage.

stuey: blaise zabini. kendall!draco thinks they're allies but blaise is more cutthroat and skeevy than kendall!draco could have predicted. growing up with a mom who regularly marries for money and whose spouses mysteriously die shortly after their nuptials, stuey!blaise knows how to scheme. doesn't have a heart, definitely encourages kendall!draco's coke problem.

roman: theodore nott. hey, daddy issues! rarely taken seriously despite being weirdly earnest and caring deeply about the fellowship/company. will always sacrifice what needs to be sacrificed if it's in the "family's" best interest, including/not limited to some really shady shit. degradation kink.

gerri: narcissa malfoy. a regal woman with a deep understanding of how logan!snape works. she has a soft spot for roman!theo and tries to keep him out of trouble despite kendall!draco's disgust at their bond. knows she's a hot piece of ass with a clever brain to back it up.

connor: percy weasley. this guy is more ego than actual brain cells. street-stupid. dumb enough to still feel empathy for his "siblings" when that kind of weakness automatically disqualifies him from any of the prestige he craves.

willa: lavender brown. younger than connor!percy, lavender is used to being overlooked as a bit of a bimbo and has learned to use it to her advantage. as an artiste, money is her bottom line because her true love is her craft and staying with someone as insufferable as connor!percy is worth it for the funding. for now, at least.

comfry: astoria greengrass. chic, aloof, and eternally out of reach for poor greg!gregory (lmao), she puts up with kendall!draco's attempts to stay relevant because he pays pretty well.

like i said, it would be panville and it would be delightfully toxic. shiv!pansy and roman!theo would be so fucking caustic when they fight, the sexual tension between roman!theo and gerri!narcissa would be palpable, and watching kendall!draco get fucked over in every which way would be 🤌🤌🤌

anon. this was such an amazing ask. i'm sorry i didn't deliver on the dramione. my brain held a knife to my throat and was like don't you fucking dare. pls consider being not anonymous so we can yell at each other back and forth about this.

#anon ask #succession #harry potter #succession x harry potter #panville #somebody pls write this

[charlesdesvoeux]

terror rewatch time!!! i'll be using this post to comment on ep. 9 "the c the c the open c" block the tag terrorwatch2 if you'd like :-)

sophia almost dissociating at certain points and lady jane having tears in her eyes by the end of the scene...

also interesting to highlight that, you know, this is a woman doing something very public and refusing to stay within the confines of the private sphere even if this work/advocacy is in benefit of her husband making it perhaps less "improper" for her to step into the public sphere. and of course she's doing it bc the admiralty won't.

tom hartnell 🥰🥰🥰

and one of the saddest things is that crozier did eventually become the captain he needed to be. but it was just too fucking late.

"more than god loves them" indeed! i mean. it didn't change anything. it didn't save anyone. but the love was there.

someone already said that but yeah it's interesting how hickey wearing irving's coat makes hodge speak to him as an equal in a way he probably wouldn't before. all this rank shit is just performance, it's just wearing the right clothes.

the denial. "this shot will murder me yet" "if it doesn't it'll make that story you like even longer to tell" and it's like. so delusional. jfj at this point is a living dead man. but crozier can't face that yet. "there's time, there's time". but james knows.

interesting highlight of the class divide- hodge, an upper class British man, thinks of the probably very nice wedding he attended which served a ham from Virginia. Hickey thinks about what could be in the tins, behind the polite and vague "veal cutlet tomata"- pieces of horse? a street dog? things he maybe even saw people eating in the squalor of victorian cities

hickey voice-over priming them for cannibalism over a shot of billy going to goodsir.....

the second to last hickeygibson scene, oh my god. the way there's genuine tenderness, the way hickey truly tries to comfort him, and I do think I saw his eyes watering. re: "can he still haul?" I'm reminded of the rat wedding scene. the way there's both genuine love but also a transactional element. but the existence of one doesn't negate the existence of the other. so yeah of course there are practical considerations in his decision to kill him. but there's also the idea that this is a mercy.

also the way hickey allows himself to be very tender with billy and not giving a fuck that goodsir is there and could infer that they are lovers- bc. "civilization" is not a thing here. the bullshit victorian idea of propriety is not a thing here. they're on death's door, who gives a fuck if they're buggerers? (is it buggerer ou bugger. i don't remember)

I love how ANGRY hickey looks at goodsir once he's performing the killing of billy. like. "this is our moment. this is the last moment I'll share with the man I love. you are a intruder. and you think I'm a monster. but I'm not. I'm doing this out of love" and I absolutely get why goodsir had to be present but sometimes I also wish he wasn't??? so we could get maybe a more genuine depiction of their relationship??? like. cornelius holding him tenderly as life flows out of him. whispering sweet nothings in an attempt at comfort. maybe even fucking saying "billy, I love you", and these being the last words he ever hears.

the "orphans that we are" scene.... it's like. the survival instinct kicks in to the point that yes, you will want to abandon your friends because you want to LIVE. but this also means forsaking something of your humanity and crozier just. just can't allow that. but the survival instinct leading to such extremes is also a very human thing, too. and God how HEARTBROKEN little looks in this scene. matthew mcnulty the actor that you are.

there are very few scenes that we get from an inuit perspective in the series so the ones we do get are very very important in terms of illuminating the themes of the show. and of course nive nielsen is just outstanding

bridgens' heartbreak in the jfj death scene..... both bc he's genuinely fond of him and bc he knows that this will probably happen to henry too.

francis just raising his head in desperation and weeping once blanky proposes his plan. "i will not say goodbye to 2 friends in one day". "we both know what's coming for me now. at least love me enough to admit it". the idea that their deaths have to be faced, when just earlier he was desperately running away from the reality of james' state...

death is imminent and they hug, they hug like the old friends that they are, they touch one another openly and lovingly. they allow themselves to be human.

"john, can we sleep?" and I started crying. and the way he carries him so tenderly to the boat- yeah, everyone's watching, so what? who the fuck cares. we're dying buddy. and how after henry is in the boat jopson looks away, always attuned to what other people need, always discreet.

not that hickey wasn't crazy before but. i think billy's death is what tips him from "dangerous narcissist" into "full on god delusions"

"if I'm reading right your accent, Mr. Hickey, you grew up in a home where you would have to use every part of any meat or fowl your mam could procure" now I think this really pierces into him because- that was E.C. in his mind cornelius hickey never had to do that, but E.C. did. and he cannot be reminded of what he used to be- what he still is, really- but he carries it with him, how could he not? even on the other end of the world- someone knows E.C.

"don't indulge your morals over your practicals" if that isn't hickey's motto.

and sol at this point just. a broken fucking shell of a man. reduced to hickey's dog.

the way he wore the ring to the end. to the very end.

the way each of them look as they're eating billy!!!! sol very obviously disturbed, troubled, but also hungry. des voeux cold, calm and pragmatic. hickey with a strange sort of curiosity on his face, chewing slowly, almost savoring the last time he'll have his lover's flesh within his mouth.

hickey sits at the head of the table. hodge sits away, china in hand, trying to pretend this is normal and in a very clear way trying to maintain rank.

i think there's an interesting contrast to be found here with des voeux. he wasn't a lieutenant yet, but he was in the "officer track" so to speak- hierarchically high above a caulkers mate like hickey or a marine like tozer; irl des voeux was promoted to lieutenant in absentia while they were lost. but he absolutely realizes that right here right now rank does not fucking matter, and so he makes no attempt to still perform within the confines of what an officer is supposed to be.

hodge's monologue, I mean. here's how christos lawton can still win an emmy

THE SOL AND HICKEY SCENE

the way hickey offers him a smoke and he declines and hickey is like uh that's odd. the way he calls him "cornelius"- were he and billy the only ones to call him cornelius??? and his plan... it's like. to him it's still about survival and hickey. well. to him it's about becoming a literal fucking god.

the way he uses sol's name...... and "that's a queer melody for a marine" manipulating his devotion to what it means to be a marine for his own ends... when sol confesses what he saw and then tries to steel himself and go back to strategy...... THE TOUCH HOW DESPERATE SOL LOOKS TO BE TOUCHED

"do we need permission from him?" "no" except like. i think sol is in so deep that he does feel like he needs permission. "we'll do what we have to do, tommy, but we'll do it tomorrow" and the look of devastation on Tommy's face. "this is not sol tozer. not the sol tozer i knew, admired, and loved. and yet- i still know him, admire him, and love him".

hartnell :-((( bridgens :-(((

#terrorwatch2

[despondentcharisma]

She got married last week.

Yesterday I saw a stunning picture - my very first girlfriend, from high school.. that I was so in love with… got married. And I really am so happy for her.

When we were together 13 years ago.. I was a secret for the three years that we were on and off … our relationship wasn’t like most teenagers or young adults in love. She never really told me what she was feeling, we didn’t always see a lot of each other in fear of her family finding out. But I was just so in love.

We were good friends at the end of our high school days that would eventually turn more. I would go over to her house and I got along with the family… I got along with her mother. Until one afternoon the mother walked in on us kissing; and as a 16yr old girl… this woman made me feel like I was the absolute worst person in the world who had apparently manipulated her daughter into the “fad” of being gay. She told me that God didn’t intend families to be “my way” and banned my girlfriend from seeing me or talking to me. This girlfriend and I tried to make it work for three years behind closed doors… well I did. I made the effort because I was so in love and she seemingly would have somewhat of an affair with my at the time best friend. I went through hell mentally battling the “gay thing” and of course my own mother didn’t take it all well for the first couple of years. Everyone broke my heart. She told me that she could never tell her parents she was Gay and that I’m overall wasting my breath because her family was more important. We talked about marriage, and kids! Even had names picked out like Cooper and Levi because I had a premonition that I would have twin boys - she is an identical twin… but so was my grandmother, and no one in my family has had twins since her - my intuition says that I will have twin boys and then about a 6yr gap and have a little girl. Now, I am soooo family oriented!! My sisters are now my bestest of friends… but I love my family that much that I didn’t want to pretend to be someone I’m not. I didn’t want to be apart of the statistic of people being kicked out of their homes, rejected as a family member, whispered about…I was strong enough to be heard even if it hurt my heart to see my mother struggle and grapple with the notion that I wasn’t going to marry the boy from the start of my senior year. I was going to die on the hill that I stood defending myself and even saying “well mum I won’t box myself then… if I happen to be in love with a woman and then a man comes along and sweeps me off my feet, so be it”.. knowing full well that that would probably never happen. I moved out of home with the afore mentioned best friend before I was really ready.. so that maybe, just maybe my girlfriend might be brave enough and that we would have our own safe space to just, be.

Today, I saw her Mother’s post… and whilst it was beautiful and supportive of my first loves new wife and commitment to marriage… the 16yr old inside me still craves for an apology - that of which I will never receive. I’ve often wondered if she’s thought about me. If she’s wanted to say sorry and that perhaps, maybe, just maybe… she’s a little proud of the achievements I’ve made with my life too. I’m an Australian Country Music rising star after all. I can’t have been too bad of a choice for her daughter. I work hard… I’ve been working hard since the day I moved out. I have three certifications in teaching, I’ve had successful management roles in well known retail companies. I come from a really great family. So I do, I wonder if now with her new found love for love… for celebrating love as she puts it in her post; if in her eyes I could’ve been good enough 13yrs later. Hmmmm. I’ll never know.

This year… I plan to do the work to release my sadness. I was the lesson in that part of someone’s life.. a stepping stone. And whilst I am proud and happy for my first love… my heart is broken for the loss. It sounds silly… I know. I am a person who feels all my past emotions as if it were happening this very second. And it’s nothing more than a memory of all those lessons of my own I had to learn.

It’s just feels bittersweet.

[ilovekazuhaa]

Haha! I absolutely love “the wingless angel” idea, perhaps can you also do ; Julieta M. x child!Reader again if you don't mind?

There are less platonic series for this wonderful woman.

This time, her child is very obedient and always following her around everywhere she goes, even though the place might be scary.

Until her child got bullied and being called “Ugly Baby Duck” but it's just the reader who loved their mother so much, “I don't understand them, i just don't want to leave your side.”

I'll leave the rest to you then you can write it whenever you have the time, i do hope you have a wonderful day. Thank you very much.

— ¡Adios!

The Ugly Duckling

Julieta x child reader

genre: hurt/comfort

TW: mentions of blood and hitting

hii! i love this idea so much! it’s really cute and i could see a lot with this story lol. i added my own little twist to this. i hope you like what i came up with :))

Since you were born, you’ve always been extremely close to your mama. Honestly, it was understandable. You were still young and never thought of life without the one that was most important to you. It was only natural for a young child to yearn for their mother, always staying at her side and never leaving. Why did the other kids have such a big problem with it?

You wanted to tell her about these kids, you really did but you were worried she wouldn’t believe you or that she would quickly dismiss it, saying that “kids will be kids” and that would be it. You didn’t think she’d care enough to do anything about it. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

Whenever your mother Julieta wasn’t around, which was rarely, the other children would always call you names and rude remarks. The worst name of them all was “The Ugly Baby Duck.” If you were with your mother, they would tease you when she wasn’t looking, trying to steal your things and make you trip and fall. Seriously, what was their problem? You were so young and didn’t want to cause any conflict. But come on, these kids were so brutal and they never left you alone.

But one day, when you strayed away from your mother, you found yourself cornered in a dark alley. The bullies followed you and surrounded you as you stood at the dead end, shaking as you looked up at them, realizing you had no escape. They stood there, laughing at you mercilessly.

Kid 1: “Look at the Ugly Baby Duck! All alone without it’s mommy!”

Kid 2: “Hahaha yeah! Imagine still needing your mom for everything! What a loser.”

Kid 3: “Time to teach this little one here that moms can’t protect you from everything.”

The kids walked towards you, cracking their knuckles as they grinned. You wanted nothing more than to run away. To be safe in your mother’s arms. She would protect you from these monsters.

But you couldn’t. Your feet were stuck to the ground in fear. You didn’t dare to move a muscle. One of the kids grabbed you by the shirt and punched you in the face. You just stood there, letting the kid take all of his anger out on you as your nose bled. Your head started pounding and your lips got cut too. Dark red blood now stained your white shirt. You wanted to do something, so badly. But you were just too afraid.

After the kid finally let you go, he kicked you in the chest, knocking you down to the ground. The air was knocked out of your lungs as you gasped for air. Some blood trickled down your nose into your mouth and it went down your throat, making you choke more. The three kids then started kicking you in your ribs. You felt several cracks and that was the first cry of pain you let out. It only got worse from there.

How could you have let it get to this? This kids were beating you up because you were always with your mother? Why did it matter so much to them? Maybe you had deserved it. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

It felt like you were being hit in slow motion, the movements repeating over and over. With every hit from the children, it felt as if another piece of your soul shattered. You began to cry, tears sliding down your cheeks as you continued to gasp for air. Your heart was beating so fast. You began to feel dizzy. You tried to get up, putting your hands on your knees for support, you were pushed over again, on your stomach this time. You hung your head, immediately feeling a blow and everything went black.

-

Your eyes fluttered open to the sound of a familiar voice.

“Y/N! Y/N mi corazon! Please wake up!” it was your mother. She held you in her arms, your blood staining her shirt as it seeped through the bandages that wrapped you. You were in your bed, comforted by the safety of your home. Julieta softly grabbed your face and pointed it towards her, placing an arepa at your lips, wanting for you to eat it.

“Mi amor… please eat.” You felt the woman shaking under you, she was so afraid. You took a tiny bite of her arepa and swallowed it. You immediately felt the dizziness and pain subside as your wounds healed. The previous events came back to you. Remembering what had happened, you figured your mother had found you as you placed your hands over your mouth, in fear that she was probably so worried about you. So worried what had happened to her baby.

You sat up and your mother practically jumped on you, almost knocking you over as she hugged you tightly.

“Mi vida I was so worried. I couldn’t find you. What happened?”

You pulled away from the hug, telling her everything that had happened, you watched her expression go from worried, to angry, to broken. Hearing you describe the pain you went through broke her heart. You had suffered, all alone, and she wasn’t there to save you.

“Mama I-“ your voice started to tremble as tears formed in your eyes.

“I don’t understand them, I just don’t want to leave your side.”

You looked up at her, eyes so teary they looked like pools of water. Your hand clenched on to her shirt tightly, searching for any form of warmth your mother provided. Looking down at you, her eyes started tearing up as well.

“And you don’t have to…” she started “I’m so sorry mi bebe… So sorry I wasn’t there… I promise that no one will ever hurt you again.” Her hands trembled as she wiped a falling tear from your cheek. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head as she did so.

She just sat there with you, hugging you so close to her chest because she had almost lost was was most precious to her in this world.

“I’ll tell your tia to deal with those kids. They’ll never hurt you again. I promise.”

“Mami, it’s alright…” you said, pulling away from her grasp. It seemed that she was more torn up by this than you were. Your little hands went from her waist to hold her face. You allowed your hands to rest on her soft, rosy cheeks. She closed her eyes and leaned into your touch, relaxing a bit.

A few moments later, she opened her eyes and you gave her a small smile. ‘Look at my Y/N’ she thought, ‘comforting their mother when it should be the other way around.’ She was so proud of you. Proud that you took the situation so well. You had grown up so fast, she couldn’t believe it.

You then removed your hand from her cheek, resting your body against the wall that was next to your bed. You patted your lap, telling her to rest her head on it. With no protest, your mother softly placed her head on your lap and you played with her hair. She smiled up at you and watched your expression as you untied her bun.

“You know mi vida, sometimes I feel like you are my mom” the woman said, laughing a little.

You nodded in response to her statement “I’m happy, because I love to act like your mom” you said casually, as you leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

She giggled a bit in response to your seemingly casual statement.

“I love you so much mi bebe. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I love you more mama, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You both smiled, contently relaxing in the silence the two of you shared. She was your mama alright, and you wouldn’t trade her for anyone else in the world.

#encanto #julieta madrigal #encanto imagine #encanto x reader #encanto fanfic #julieta madrigal imagine #julieta #julieta madrigal x you #julieta x you #julieta my beloved #julieta encanto #encanto julieta #julieta madrigal x reader #julieta x reader #encanto imagines #disney encanto

[beauvibaby]

Purple and Yellow – j.oleksiak

• Jamie Oleksiak goes through heartbreak and challenges along with his daughter but then he meets a woman who seems to catch both their hearts •

a/n: ok this is NOT proof read at all I’m sorry but I knew if I went back and did that I’d end up hating it and not wanting to post it but I know y’all wanted it so here you go!

Word Count: 6.1k

Jamie knew he was going to Seattle, and he’d be lying if he said the proposition didn’t excite him, but once his name was inked on that paper, reality came crashing in. He had to up and move his daughter, she was only three, maybe it wouldn’t be that hard. But who was he kidding, everything is hard with a three year old. And how would he explain that they wouldn’t be able to visit mommy every weekend, just like they did every weekend since. That’s all that plagued his mind as he drove home from the airport, Ivy was waiting for him, but he knew she’d succumb to her sleepiness before he could get there. His parents already texting him with a picture of her half asleep on the couch.

Then, the cars on the other side of the road slammed on their brakes, the sound of tires spinning out made everything come rushing back.

“Is this the father of Ivy Oleksiak?” Jamie didn’t even have a chance to speak before the words came across the phone, “yes, who’s speaking?” Jamie replied, heart rate picking up at the soft sigh the woman let out. “Your daughter and Miss Cora Hadley were brought into Medical City from a car accident scene.” All she said were those words before he was rushing to his feet, “are they ok?” He asked quickly, never getting a pair of shoes on so quickly in his life. “Sir, I’m not–“ “Bullshit! Is my baby and my fiancé ok?” He snapped, based on the way she whimpered, a rather young woman on the other end of the line. “Your daughter will be fine, just some scratches, the car seat did it’s job.” She spoke slowly, her breath hitching. “I think it’s best you get here as quickly as possible.” She spoke carefully, and in that moment Jamie’s heart fell to his feet like an anchor, he could feel his stomach twisting and his eyes burning. He knew what those words meant. Then he thought of Ivy and that snapped him out of his daze, he had to get there, now.

Jamie pulled into his driveway safely this night, parking beside his parents car, a sigh escaping his lips, forcing the terrible memories from two and a half years ago away. He gathered his bags, and lugged them inside, smiling at his family all asleep in the living room. That made him forget that oh so familiar ache in his chest just a little bit more. He put his bags in the corner, those could wait, but right now all he needed was to hold his baby girl. He scooped Ivy up, smiling as she fluttered her eyes open just enough to see him. “Daddy.” She murmured, “hi bug.” He inhaled the scent of her toddler shampoo, his mom always taking care of her hair the best, brushing the detangler through the unruly hair she got from her father. “Sleep with you.” Ivy whined when he started heading for her room, normally he didn’t give in, not wanting her to be dependent on him to sleep, but he needed her tonight too. “Just tonight princess.” He gave in, bringing her to his room with him, where she fell asleep instantly when he placed her on the plush bed.

Jamie laid awake, staring at the ceiling for a little while, thinking of how he would tell Ivy about having to move. “I hope you’re proud of me.” He whispered out, his tears staying pooled in his eyes as he forced himself to calm down. “Sleep daddy.” Ivy complained, nuzzling closer to him. “Hold me.”

“Jamie.” Cora whispered, hoping he was awake despite the late hour, he grunted in response, being a light sleeper ever since he found out Cora was pregnant. “Hold me.” She demanded with a light tone, her back aching and stomach bulging as Ivy kicked around in there. Jamie blindly opened his arms for her, letting her settle into his chest. “Always.” He murmured, already half asleep as she sighed in content.

“Come here baby girl.” Jamie murmured at Ivy, letting her rest her head upon his chest, Ivy was a very cuddly little girl, the second she was comfortable with you, she’d be sitting in your lap and telling you stories and anything to be touching you. It was one of Jamie’s favorite things, especially when he came home from a roadie and all she wanted was to be held by him.

***

“Daddy!” Ivy called, she managed to climb onto the bathroom counter to brush her teeth but now she was too scared to get down, “daddy!” She shrieked again, Jamie’s eyes fluttered open as he quickly took in his surroundings, “daddy, I stuck!” Ivy called, this time sounding annoyed by his lack of response. He threw the blanket off as he knew where she was stuck, this was a common occurrence. He appeared in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed over his chest, “and just what do you think you’re doing?” Jamie asked his daughter as she made grabby hands for him, she grinned brightly at him, “I brushed my teeth!” She answered in a duh tone, she grabbed his face once he scooped her up, kissing the tip of his nose, and he the same to her, “I’m very happy you brushed your teeth, Ivy, but you know you’re not supposed to get on the counter, that’s why we got you a stool, remember?” He explained, for easily the tenth time in the past month. “I know.” She huffed, dramatically pushing her hair back, making Jamie chuckle as he walked down the stairs, hearing his parents talking in the kitchen.

“Well, good morning sleepy heads.” Alison teased as Ivy gasped at the sight of pancakes on the counter, Jamie shook his head with a smile, placing her on the seat beside his dad, “I’ll make you a special plate.” Richard quipped to the little girl, which really just meant drawing a smiley face on it with whip cream. “Thanks mom.” Jamie gave his mom a kiss on the cheek before shuffling around to get his coffee, desperately needing the sleep kicked out of his system. “When are you going to tell her?” Alison asked, taking a small bite of her food, giving her son the side eye when he hesitated. “Today.” He gave in, knowing he absolutely had to start packing now, otherwise it would never be done in time. “So, Ivy, do you have any plans for today?” Alison shifted her attention to her granddaughter, figuring they could take her out to do something so he could get more done. “Gonna go see momma!” She cheered, some syrup smeared around her mouth.

Jamie froze, it was Saturday already, he checked his phone and felt humiliated that he had forgotten his promise to take Ivy to the cemetery. Evidently the panic was written across his face when both his parents stared at him. “Why don’t grandma and I bring you? We haven’t been there in a while.” Richard offered, rubbing Ivy’s back when she looked to Jamie for permission. “I think that would be nice, right baby?” Jamie finally found his voice, and Ivy nodded brightly, anytime she got with her grandparents was cherished. “Daddy coming to?” She asked, tilting her head as he sipped on his coffee, “I’ve got some work to do, alright, I’ll go next time.” He assured her, shooting his dad a thankful look as he quickly changed the subject before she could pester on any further.

“Ivy, I need to talk to you.” Jamie announced, he couldn’t wait any longer, he had to do it and be done. Alison nearly choked on her coffee and Richard looked at his empty plate like it was suddenly the most interesting thing. Ivy nodded, munching away on her pancakes, not understanding the severity of what was about to be said.

Jamie cleared his throat and pulled out the chair beside her, “you know how I had to go away to this new place for work, yeah?” He reminded her, “Seattle.” He said, and she nodded, “Seattle.” She repeated, not entirely perfect but good enough. “I got a job over there.” He spoke, waiting to see what she thought. “Hockey?” She asked, confusion lacing her tone. “Yes, still hockey.” Jamie chuckled softly, “it’s with a new team.” He paused, glancing away for a second, “we have to move there.” He concluded. Ivy nodded slowly, “new house?” She asked, she might be young, but she knew that moving meant not in this house. “Yeah, new house, new city, new people.” Jamie explained, panicking when she went wide eyed, “what about uncle Ro-Ro?” Ivy asked, referring to Miro, she was closest to the young defenseman as she always saw him beside her dad on the ice. The nickname had been dubbed upon him when she was learning to speak and liked to repeat things. “We can visit, baby.” Jamie spoke softly, heart breaking as she began to sniffle. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, he knew the realization was coming. “But Momma!” She sobbed.

And that completely shattered his heart.

“I know.” He picked her up, feeling her sob into his neck, “momma.” She whimpered, though she didn’t remember her, Jamie made sure to keep her an important part of her life. Ivy didn’t know that she loved going to a gravestone that much until this moment. “Hey, look at me, bug.” Jamie demanded gently, situating her to be in front of him. He sat her on the countertop and stood in front of her, “momma will always be with us, right? Isn’t that what I always say?” He explained to her. Ivy nodded slowly, she was so young but always acting older, trying to wrap her head around this. “Yeah.” She mumbled sheepishly, cheeks red and eyes puffy, she felt shy under the gaze of her grandparents. “It’s alright, daddy’s sad too.” He assured her, lowering his head to be eye level with her. She stared into his eyes, reminding him so much of Cora in that moment, and once again she kissed the tip of his nose. “No sad daddy.” She demanded, drumming her fingers on his cheek. He pecked her forehead, “alright baby.” He agreed, if she could do it, so could he, right?

***

Ivy slept the whole plane ride, which is what Jamie was hoping for as they would be meeting the moving truck at the new house, plenty of things to be done asap.

“Come on Ivy.” Jamie mumbled, carrying her off the plane as she groggily woke up, looking around slightly confused until she remembered what was going on today. “Daddy, Seattle?” She asked, lifting her head from his shoulder, he chuckled, lowering her so she wasn’t so high up on his chest. “Yeah, Seattle baby.” He assured her, her pigtails bouncing as she looked around rapidly. He smiled at her reaction to the airport alone.

“What do you think, Ivy?” Jamie asked, raising his eyebrows as the three year old spun to face him. “Love it!” She squealed, her room was twice as big in this place than her bedroom in Dallas, and Jamie told her she could pick whatever color (within reason) to have her walls painted. Of course she would love it here. Jamie looked around their new-but-empty-house one more time, sighing as he could picture Ivy growing older in this house.

Time to make it a home.

“Hi.” Ivy grinned up at one of the movers as he placed a stack of boxes in her room, Jamie just being outside the door heard her speaking, he raised an eyebrow waiting to hear the guy speak. “Hello.” The young guy spoke sweetly, chuckling at the little girl. “I’m three.” She spoke, “how old are you?” She asked, Jamie held in a snicker as he walked in. “Ivy, leave him alone, bug.” He laughed softly, the guy taking it as his excuse to go get more boxes. “Ugh.” She huffed, flopping down on her bed dramatically, Jamie rolled his eyes, looking around. “What color do you want?” He asked the opinionated little girl, he sat beside her, smiling as she stood next to him, being eye level with him. “Hmm, purple!” She gasped, looking around the currently beige room, Jamie nodded slowly, “light purple.” He countered, knowing she would want to choose the darkest shade. “Fine.” She giggled, “we can go tomorrow, alright? Today we need to focus on finding all your stuff.” He tickled her sides.

***

Ivy was tugging on Jamie’s hand, somehow spotting the paint section quicker than he could. “Slow down!” He laughed heartily, his daughter shooting him a glare as he purposely slowed his feet down. He hoisted Ivy up to see the purple swatches along the top row, she reached for a dark one, just like Jamie knew she would. He sighed, “Ivy, we agreed on light purple, what about this one?” He offered, grabbing a lavender type color, she grunted in disgust, shaking her head dramatically, her blonde curls hitting his face. “Love this one.” She pouted, holding it in front of his face.

Jamie held in a sigh as you walked past him, stopping to look at paint swatches as well. “What about this one?” Jamie compromised, it was darker than he wanted to go, but still light enough to not feel like a dungeon. Ivy’s lip began to quiver, quickly catching both Jamie and the woman’s attention. “Ivy.” Jamie sighed softly, you intervened, “you know, I wanted a dark purple room when I was your age too.” You spoke to Ivy, catching her attention as she lifted her head, Jamie shifting slightly, giving you a smile. “My dad wouldn’t let me do it.” You made a face, getting a giggle out of Ivy, “he was right though, but guess what we compromised?” You mused, holding your hand out for the paint swatches that Jamie had. He handed them over with ease, “we painted one wall, dark, the wall I had my bed on, and the rest we did light.” You explained, Jamie giving Ivy a bright smile when she looked at him like it was the greatest idea ever. “We can do that, Ivy.” He agreed, and you giggled, “glad I could be of help.” You added.

“Thank you,” Jamie paused, waiting for a name. “Y/N.” You told him, smiling at the pair, “and your name is?” You asked, already figuring the little girl's name was Ivy. “Jamie.” He introduced himself. “What are you painting?” Ivy asked boldly, not one to talk much around new people, Jamie set her down so she could look at other colors, amused by her sudden interest. “I’m painting my dining room.” You answered, squatting down to her level, “do you have any color suggestions?” You asked Ivy. Jamie gave you a look that said you really don’t have to entertain her but you just gave him a smile. “Yellow.” Ivy announced, looking at the wall and grabbing actually, a very nice swatch, it was just yellow enough. You tilted your head as you looked at it, imagining it in your space. “That’s a very pretty color, Ivy.” You told her, smiling brightly as she blushed, handing you the color sample. “Thank you, Y/N.” She spoke politely, even though the words didn’t come out perfectly, it was a great attempt. “You’re welcome.” You stood to your full height, shocking Jamie by walking over to the counter to order the paint, no hesitation that a random little girl picked it out.

“You don’t have to-“ Jamie started to say, but you shrugged, giving him a happy smile, “I just got a new place, a fresh start, yellow seems fitting.” You told him. Jamie gave you a lopsided smile, if only you knew he was doing the same. “Daddy, this ones.” Ivy gasped, giving him two swatches, he chuckled at her grammar, squatting down to her level, “you’re sure?” He asked, he knew after all it was just paint, and if it turned out so terrible, they could paint over it but he didn’t want to have to do this twice. “This one looks like momma's dress!” Ivy explained, Jamie looked at the dark purple in his hand, instantly remembering Cora in that dress, Ivy’s favorite picture of her that she kept in her room. Suddenly her color choice made sense, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop, your heart stopping at Jamie’s next words. “Yeah, I think momma would have loved this.”

Was she… dead? You tried to knock the thought from your head, they were so young, but you knew accidents happened. You quickly looked away as Jamie stood back up, “here you go ma’am.” The teenager behind the counter spoke, you took the gallon from him, shooting him a smile. “Have a good day.” You told him, offering Jamie and Ivy a wave. “Will I see you again?” Ivy asked, Jamie nearly had heart failure right there as you stopped and giggled. “Oh I don’t know sweetheart, Seattle is a really big city. But don’t you worry, if I ever see you out and about I’ll be sure to say hello.” You assured her, watching as she got all giddy and slightly hid behind her father again. “Bye.” You told him, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling any wider. “Bye, Y/N.” He mumbled, seeming a little dazed as he made his way up to the counter.

***

It had been nearly a week in the new house, the walls were done, almost everything was unpacked and they were starting to feel a sense of normalcy. Jamie loved the neighborhood they ended up in, a true mix of all different people, yes their house was rather large, but it was still homey. The community was sprawling, having a little bit of everything, stand alone homes, townhomes, even some condos, there were plenty of kids around which made him feel good about his choice as he followed Ivy down the road as she rode her bike. “Slow down, Ivy.” Jamie cautioned as she was getting a good bit ahead of him, she huffed dramatically and slowed down, waiting for him to catch up. She was looking around at the houses, confused as to why they were attached, even though Jamie had explained it to her plenty of times. Ivy gasped so loudly, that you could hear it from your front lawn where you were spray painting a piece of furniture. You glanced over and did a double take.

There was absolutely no way, you refused to believe you were actually seeing this, then you saw Jamie and you were convinced the universe either loved you for letting you see him again, or hated you, as you were in ratty old painting clothes.

“Ivy!” You grinned, laughing when the little girl flew off her bike, letting it fall sideways, making Jamie groan, “hi Y/N!” She squealed running up your lawn. You smiled brightly as she hugged your leg, “Ivy.” Jamie called, giving you an apologetic smile but you shrugged it off. “Did you paint your room?” You asked the little girl as she pulled away, a pink tint to her cheeks, she nodded, her blonde curls bouncing in her ponytail. “Yay, that’s great!” You cheered, Jamie walked up behind her, “hi, Y/N. How are you?” He asked, his daughter leaning back against his legs as you two spoke. “Good, been busy making this place my own.” You laughed, motioning to the small townhome behind you. It was your first solo place, and you absolutely adored it, even if it needed some work. “Yeah, you always forget how much work it is moving into a new place.” He agreed, chuckling softly. “Did you do yellow?” Ivy asked, rocking on her feet. “I did.” You assured her, “would you two like to go in and see it?” You asked, cringing internally as you waited to look up at Jamie. “Sure.” He answered, grabbing his daughter's hand, following you inside.

You led them to the dining room, giggling as Ivy gasped, “so pretty!” She cheered, the yellow paid off, it made the space feel much more happy. “All because of you.” You told her, she asked if she could look at the pictures you had sitting on the entry table and you gave her a quick nod, giving you and Jamie a chance to talk. “Same neighborhood? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were stalking me.” You teased him lightly, getting a hearty chuckle out of him. “It is quite the coincidence.” He agreed, he felt butterflies in his stomach for the first time since he had met Cora.

It absolutely terrified him.

***

It had been a few weeks since that day, and you’d seen Ivy outside playing with another woman, Jamie not to be seen. You came out to grab your mail as she went riding by, “hi, Y/N!” She called, continuing to pedal away. “Hi, Ivy.” You spoke, you went over and introduced yourself to the girl, Taylor, finding out she was her babysitter. “Jamie must go out pretty often.” You commented to her, she shook her head, “oh no, he never goes anywhere without Ivy aside from work.” Taylor told you, “he plays hockey, I'm surprised you didn’t know that.” Taylor added, smiling as Ivy came up to the two of you. “We should be going, it’s almost dinner time.” Taylor spoke, she couldn’t be older than 20. You gave them both a smile, “yes! You don’t want to miss that.” You chuckled, bidding them a goodbye before going inside and googling Jamie.

What you found shocked you.

Jamie Oleksiak taking personal time to mourn loss of fiancé.

Jamie Oleksiak, will he be able to balance a professional career and a baby?

Will he bounce back from this?

You clicked the first article, bracing yourself as it loaded.

The date was from almost three years ago, you scrolled down and began to read…

Jamie Oleksiak has announced the sudden passing of his fiancé, Cora Hadley. Together they shared a daughter Ivy, who was also involved in the incident, she is expected to make a complete recovery.

A close friend tells us it was a severe car accident.

Our condolences to the family.

You clicked away from the article as tears burned your eyes. That was terrible. You read some of the other articles and only grew mad at how the reporters belittled his pain, only talking of how poorly his game play had been since then. And though you’d never wish that kind of loss on anyone, you know they wouldn’t be writing like that if they had felt it.

***

You and Jamie exchanged numbers, citing that it was for “neighborhood emergencies” you giggled at the thought as he was currently asking you what he should get Cora for the upcoming Christmas.

She’s the pickiest three year old ever, everyone always tells me that.

Well, what does the pickiest three year old ever like to do?

She’s either riding her bike and getting absolutely filthy or she’s inside playing dress up and being a little princess

Princess car?

They make those?!?

Oh, Jamie, I really need to take you shopping 🤦‍♀️

Tell me when and I’ll be there…

You tell me hot shot, you’re the one that plays hockey for a living.

How did you find out?

Google is a powerful thing… just kidding, Taylor told me.

Of course she did

Saturday afternoon? My parents will be in town and they want to take Ivy out for the day, so it’s a perfect excuse.

You know where I live, see you then!

He started typing, but then the dots went away and you never received another message.

You brushed it off, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in years as you thought of merely shopping with Jamie for Christmas.

****

“You like him!” Your friend gushed to you as you spoke on the phone while getting ready, “no!” You rushed, only proving her point more. “Y/N, really.” Your friend, Amanda, spoke. “There’s nothing wrong with that, he’s clearly attractive and he’s a dad! He’s not going to be a jerk that just messed around with girls! It’s great.” She rambled, you sighed, pulling your jeans on with a little jump, “his fiancé died, Amanda. He could very well not be over that yet, and I wouldn’t blame him.” You explained, she went silent, “well you left that part out, how was I supposed to know.” She mumbled sheepishly. “It was almost three years ago, their baby was only six months old.” You whispered, cursing when your doorbell rang down the stairs. “Shit, shit, I have to go Amanda!” You rushed, hanging up as soon as she said bye. You adjusted the sweater you had on as you rushed down the stairs, careful not to fall flat on your face. You grabbed your purse as you walked past the counter, yelping as you stumbled and landed on your butt. So close.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Jamie called, hearing the thud, “yes, yeah, just a second.” You called out, wincing as you stood up, that was definitely going to hurt later. You finally, finally reached the door and unlocked it, pulling it open and giving him a bright smile. “Did you fall?” He asked instantly, bursting into laughter when your face went blank. “We’re not going to talk about that Jamie.” You chastised, stepping onto your little porch to leave with him. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled, giving you a once over as you locked the door. “Is Ivy excited to be with your parents today?” You asked him, Jamie laughed under his breath, “so excited, she didn’t even care that I was going out.” He told you as he opened the passenger side door of his truck for you. “Thanks.” You mumbled as you slid in, your heart pounding in your chest. He shut the door and made his way around the truck as you adjusted in the seat.

“So, where to?”

****

Jamie was shocked and grimacing at the price of the princess car that he and you both knew Ivy would love. “Is she the type to give up on new toys quickly?” You asked, tilting your head as you both stared at the display, he shook his head as gave in. He had been leaning against the shelves and as he walked away you noticed his phone had fallen out of his pocket, you picked it up so no one would steal it as you waited for him to come back with a cart, and hopefully someone to help him with the box because it was not something you’d be much help with. His phone began to ring in your hand, the contact flashing across the top said mom, you let it ring, you’d tell him as soon as he came back. As soon as it stopped it was ringing again, you panicked and swiped to answer it, worried that something had happened to Ivy. “Hello?” You spoke into the phone, hearing Ivy wailing in the background. Fuck.

“Who is this?” His mother rushed, “I’m Y/N, Jamie forgot his phone he’s walking around the store– is everything alright?” You asked, cutting straight to the point, “no, we’re going to the emergency room, Ivy fell at the park and I think she broke her arm.” His mother rushed, and thankfully you saw Jamie approaching, “Jamie!” You shouted, rushing over, he furrowed his eyebrows seeing you on his phone.

“It’s your mom.” You rushed, giving it to him and you could see the wheels turning in his head as he listened to her speak over Ivy crying. “Shit, alright I’ll meet you there.” He told her, shooting you an apologetic look. “Go.” You assured him, he shook his head grabbing your hand and pulling you along, he wasn’t going to leave you stranded in a department store. “Sorry, he’ll purchase it another day!” You called to the employee who had a blank look on his face. “Let me talk to Ivy.” Jamie demanded after his mom had said something else, “daddy, it hurts!” Ivy got out between cries as his mother held the phone to her ear. “I know, princess. I’ll be there soon alright? I promise.” He assured her, finally releasing your hand as he realized he’d been holding it this whole time.

He managed to get off the phone so he could drive to the hospital, repeatedly apologizing for you being stuck with him and that this happened. “I was going to take you to lunch and ugh I’m just sorry.” You raised an eyebrow at his ramblings as you guys got stuck at a red light less than a mile from the hospital. “Jamie, stop apologizing. She’s your daughter, she always comes first, that’s how it’s supposed to be.” You soothed him, he glanced over at you, nodding softly, “reschedule the lunch?” He asked, despite the panic in his head, he still wanted to make sure you saw that he was interested in you.

“Yeah, we can reschedule, let’s just go see your baby.” You leaned over the center console, kissing his cheek as the light changed, doing a little happy dance in your head at how he blushed deeply at your actions.

“Family only.” The nurse remarked as you were about to follow Jamie to the room Ivy was in. He gave her an incredulous look, “it’s fine, go.” You assured him, pulling away from him to stay in the waiting room. He hesitated but went along, disappearing behind the doors as you picked a seat in the corner, making sure you had a sight line to the doors he went through. Over an hour went by as you sat there, scrolling through your phone, not hearing from Jamie, which you assumed was because he was being bombarded with questions of the girl who answered his phone, while also dealing with Ivy who was not going to enjoy the process of getting a cast.

Your phone chimed with a text just as you had finally decided to get off of it,

Finishing up now, sorry if my parents are a lot

You chuckled at the message, making sure you had all your items, including the little stuffy you’d bought at the hospital gift shop during your time sitting here. You stood up as you saw them walking out, Ivy draped over Jamie’s chest, half asleep with her head on his shoulder. “Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you.” His mom spoke, offering her hand, you repeated the sentiment, as well as with his dad. “Ivy.” You whispered, placing a hand on her back, holding the small stuffed animal in your hand, “I got you a little gift for being such a big brave girl.” You mumbled, she shifted to look at you with her puffy eyes, and pout settled deep on her lips, “thanks.” She whispered, taking it and holding it close to her chest, she kept her eyes on you as you walked behind Jamie, keeping up a conversation with his parents. And he was right, they were kind of a lot, but you pushed through, smiling when Ivy finally fell asleep in the car.

You sat in the back with Ivy, Jamie insisting you didn’t have to but you wanted to. “She handled it pretty well.” Jamie commented as he glanced back to see her asleep with her hand in yours. “She’s a tough little thing.” You agreed, glancing over at him, he gave you a heartwarming smile. “Thanks for coming with me today, I know it didn’t go to plan, but it was nice, you know… before she broke her arm.” He trailed off, pulling into your driveway to drop you off. You carefully pulled your hand from Ivy’s, she didn’t budge as she was exhausted from today.

Jamie got out to say goodbye, surprising you with a quick kiss to the cheek and a promise of that lunch date.

***

“Did some research?” You asked teasingly as Jamie took you to your favorite restaurant, you gave him a sideways glance as he parked the truck, “I may have had some assistance.” He shrugged, making you realize that’s why Ivy was grilling you the other day, when you had offered to watch her since Taylor was unavailable. “You two are trouble.” You quipped, watching him slip out wordlessly before opening your door for you. “But I’m a gentleman.” He reminded you, “a very good one at that.” You agreed, steadying yourself with his shoulders when you hoped down. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He declared, had you not wanted to kiss him so badly you would have teased him for the nervousness in his voice, but you simply looped your arms around his neck and let him sweep you off your feet with a wonderful first kiss.

The first of many.

***

Two months, and many, many, sneaky dates and stolen kisses later…

You were over at Jamie’s house, having dinner with him and Ivy, you and Jamie had gone out here and there, but most of your time was spent together with Ivy, and that’s what told him that you were the girl he needed to hang on to. Jamie wanted to take tonight to explain to Ivy that you two were dating, but he was scared, petrified even, that she would become upset and confused. You kept telling him nothing had to be done yet if he wasn’t ready, but he was, he swore he was.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked Ivy, dinner was long gone and you were playing a game of twenty questions, she wasn’t entirely aware of that but she was having fun nonetheless. “Purple! Like my mommas.” She declared, you gave her a smile, glancing over at Jamie to see how he handled it. Many conversations had happened between you two about the loss of Cora, you never wanted to rush him, and as he only gave Ivy a proud smile, you could tell he was truly ready to start the next chapter of his life again. You liked to think Cora was proud of him, for choosing you to be in their life.

“What’s yours?” Ivy countered back, giving you an inquisitive look, the closer she got to age four, the more like Jamie she seemed, and it always made you chuckle. “Yellow.” You told her, watching as she grinned, Jamie winked at you as you turned sheepish under their gaze. “Because of me?” Ivy gasped. “Yes, because of you.” You giggled, welcoming her hug when she bounced over to you. “Ivy, do you know what it means when people are dating?” Jamie asked his daughter as she stayed seated on your lap, she rested her elbows on the table, holding her head in her hands. “No but you said I’m not allowed to do that.” She spoke in a serious tone, sending you into a hysterical fit of laughter, not expecting her to be so blunt. Jamie tried not to but he joined you with a deep laugh, tipping his head back as Ivy grew impatient. “Ok, besides that.” Jamie cleared his throat, “when I say I’m dating someone that means that I really really like them and I want them to be part of our life.” He explained as best he could, you smiled from behind her at his words. Encouraging him to go on.

“Y/N and I are dating.” He spoke officially, you both held your breath as you waited for her reaction, she turned and looked at you, and then back to her dad. “You love her!” Ivy grinned, sending Jamie wide eyed and you into a wide smile as he blushed, “you love my daddy!” Ivy gasped turning to you, now he was the one grinning as you opened and closed your mouth trying to find the words to say. You gave her a nod, “well, it’s a bit more complicated than that when you’re our age, but yes.” You agreed with her, Jamie grabbed your hand from across the table, giving it a squeeze as Ivy climbed off your lap and started dancing around.

This had gone so much better than he had hoped.

When he was tucking her in that night while you were waiting for him on the couch, she said a few words that made him one hundred percent sure that everything was going the way it should, and that Cora even played a hand in this. “Can I have two favorite colors daddy?” Ivy asked, looking up at him sleepily as he pulled the blanket up her body, she was clinging to the stuffy you’d bought her. “Of course, bug.” He assured her, thinking that was that, but as he kissed her forehead she said, “purple and yellow are my favorites.” By the time he pulled his head back, her eyes were shut and her breathing was evening out. “Yeah, I think those are my favorites too.” He whispered.

Taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @hockeyunits

#Jamie Oleksiak fic #Jamie Oleksiak #Jamie Oleksiak imagine #Seattle kraken #nhl imagine

[be-gay-do-heists]

OKAY finally finished with eliot hand pain hurt/comfort fic, and i couldn’t actually decide whether i preferred it in second or third person POV. this is the version with the third person POV, otherwise nothing is different from the other version !

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Contrary to what the four crazy people he spent his time risking his life for nowadays thought, Eliot didn’t like the pain.

There was nothing cleansing about it, nothing satisfactory. A ringing hit to his jaw didn’t feel like penance. The actual protection aspect was a different story. Standing like a wall between your people and danger, there was nothing that made Eliot’s ribs ache with pleasure like that; a wall didn’t feel, didn’t think, it was just an immutable fact. He was an immutable fact. The problem was that the wall-as-Eliot, or perhaps the Eliot-as-wall, had to become human again sometime after the last man went down and the last dollar bill was stuffed into a duffel. To hurt was human, and not just to hurt but to remember the wound long, long after, for it to live in your knees and wrists and between the vertebrae in your spine. Some days— and this was a product of how long after a job it had been, how hard he had pushed—some days were worse than others. The fact that some days the first sound out of his mouth wasn’t even a groan, but a whine, or worse the half-awake pleading for please please make it stop i’ll do anything just make it stop—

No, Eliot didn’t like the pain.

Comparatively, today was a good day. Today, he could get out of bed. His head and body were blessedly in agreement that it was in his best interests to swing his twinging knees to the side of the mattress, push himself up onto legs that were sore but stable, with arms that shook only slightly. But compared to Eliot’s best days, the ones where except for the old shoulder injury which would never let him forget it and the scar on his hip that put a falter in his giddy-up in all kinds of weather, the days on which except for those he sometimes even forgot the pain, this didn’t hold a candle. Today his hands were so beat and weak that the ache radiated up to his mid-forearm, settled into him all familiar-like and made its home in him.

In the bathroom, Eliot used his wrist to turn on the faucet and stuck his mouth under the water to drink. Holding a cup was off the agenda. His morning routine was interspersed with winces, not unusual for his post-job bathroom adventures, and if it took Eliot longer to shimmy on the sweats he knew he wouldn’t be getting out of today, it made him appreciate the comfort of wearing them a little more.

Going handless was fine until he was face to face with the fridge, and resisting the urge to growl at it, like that would solve anything. Taking a deep breath, he put a hand on the stainless steel handle, testing his grip. A light flex had Eliot drawing it back like the metal had burned him, like someone had snapped a tight clothespin onto each ligament. He took a moment to pace a couple steps, let out a loud but cathartic expletive, and then wedge his hand between the handle and the door so he could open the fridge with his elbow strength. The feeling of triumph behind his collarbone faded quickly as the hitter scanned its contents and realized there was nothing he wanted to eat, or at least nothing he wanted to hold and eat. The thought of grasping a fork brought another growl to his throat, and he slammed the fridge door to stomp to the couch and throw himself down, cradling his hands in his lap.

Eliot knew the drill: in an hour, he would grit his teeth and get to up to try and fumble open his bottle of painkillers, and if he succeeded, he would wait another hour for them to truly kick in so he could handle the tv remote, put on whatever game was on, and vegetate on the couch until further notice. The phone he had left on the nightstand rang loudly, fully audible from the other room, blaring out the chorus to “Macho Man” that Hardison had put as his ringtone and Eliot hadn’t figured out how to get rid of yet. If it was important, whoever it was would call again, so he ignored it. His ire rose when the same noise sang out from the bedroom a couple minutes later, a bit-off groan escaping from his clenched teeth as he levered himself up to get to it as fast as he could, awkwardly accepting the call and maneuvering the phone between his shoulder and ear. “What?”

“Man, we haven’t heard from you since we split yesterday, I thought we were gonna get a beer downstairs last night?”

He rubbed his eyes with his wrist, frustrated that he had forgotten he was supposed to get together with Hardison the night before. Getting home, washing the sweat and blood off, and falling into bed had seemed like the only goal in his mind. “Look, sorry, I’ve been busy. And if this ain’t important, you—“

“Bullshit. Absolute bullshit, you’re using your tough-guy, bullshit voice. And you actually apologized, so something is double wrong.”

Eliot snarled. “I don’t have— Hardison, I don’t know what you’re talking about, just leave me alone.”

“Too late, we’re already at your place.”

Before he could open his mouth, his doorbell rang, drawing a groan from him. If he was correct about who the “we” was, it seemed silly to even ring it. His suspicions were confirmed thirty seconds later as the door clicked open anyways and Parker and Hardison came in, having the decency to at least look slightly sheepish. Eliot had already moved back to the couch, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” he growled.

“Excuse us for being worried about your wellbeing, Mr. Suffer-In-Silence,” Hardison scoffed.

Parker leapt onto the couch cushion next to him. “We thought you might have been captured by ninjas.”

“You would know if I had been captured by ninjas,” Eliot muttered. “It’s a very dis— look, you’ve seen that I’m not kidnapped, it’s our day off, can you please leave and let me rest.”

“You still owe us a hangout from last night!” Parker chirped. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay long.” She vaulted back over the couch to go rummage through his snack cabinets, getting into the granola bin by the sound of it. Eliot made a note to restock it before she came back next.

When he next opened his eyes, Hardison was lightly sitting on his coffee table, looking at the hands still resting in the hitter’s lap. “What’s up with your hands, Eliot?”

Eliot’s first instinct was to deflect. He trusted his team, sure, but this was different. They weren’t supposed to know that he had these days. That he wasn’t invulnerable. “Nothing’s wrong with them, stop sitting on my coffee table.”

“Mhm mhm, sure,” Hardison said. “Go like this for me?” He wiggled his fingers in a “hey sailor” kind of fashion. Before Eliot could tell him just what he thought about that, Parker’s ponytail swung into the side of his face, the thief reaching down to poke one of his hands faster than he could stop her.

By the time Eliot was able to refocus and pull himself back from the whiteout of pain, Parker and Hardison were looking at him with open concern, the hacker leaning back slightly, a little pale. Eliot thought he might have howled; he wasn’t sure. Both his hands were clenched tightly to his chest, wrists together, arms outward, wishbone shaped. He felt just as brittle as one, with their stares on him. He summoned the anger from his throat, the only weapon at his disposal (only half-expecting that it would work, always defenseless when it came to their prodding).

“Can you leave me the hell alone now?”

Hardison looked at him, taking his time formulating his thoughts, but it was Parker who spoke. “Nope.” Eliot turned to her where she was perched on the couch. “You get hurt taking care of us. Now you let us take care of you.”

Eliot looked at Hardison pleadingly, hoping he at least would take pity on him and let him wallow by himself. The hitter wanted to hide like the trap-escaped, half-dead badger whose den he had accidentally put his foot into half a lifetime ago in the Italian Alps, earning him an earful of hissing that scared the shit out of him. He wondered if he seemed as belligerent as that now.

Hardison just shrugged and smiled gently. “Hey, you heard the woman.” He leaned forward slightly, just enough in Eliot’s space to let him feel his warm presence without crowding. “Couldn’t get rid of us if you tried.”

He didn’t want to try, was the thing. It was only that it wasn’t their job to take care of him. It was his to take care of them. They just seemed to be wholly unaware of this.

“You taken anything for those yet?” Hardison asked, pointing at his hands. He hummed at Eliot’s slight head shake. “Thought so. Which ones?”

“White bottle, red pills. Only need a half,” Eliot mumbled, slouching. Parker was already up and heading to the bathroom.

“We need to get something you can actually open when this happens, some kind of spring-loaded catch maybe,” Hardison mused. “Alright, let me see them.” He patted his legs, frowning at Eliot’s growl. “C’mon, none of that. I know they hurt, I’ll be really, really gentle. I won’t even touch without asking.”

Eliot looked him in the eye for the sincerity he already knew would be there, the eagerness to help that (damn him) was one of his favorite traits of Hardison’s. Hesitantly, he extended his hands, rolling his eyes at the hacker scooting forward to offer his knees to rest them on.

“I assume you got antiseptic and ointment on these knuckles already, so totally disregarding those, even though it sucks. Nothing broken?”

“No, just. Aches. Like a son of a bitch. Can’t make a damn fist. Happens sometimes.”

Parker bounded back in, armed with a glass of water and half a pill in her open hand. “So no jobs for a while. Easy, I’ll tell Nate. Open up.” With a scowl, Eliot took the medication from her fingers with his teeth (gently, gently), and let her raise the glass to his lips, nearly choking as she tipped it a little eagerly, and choking for real when Hardison said, “Whoa, woman, let him swallow.”

“It’s not just the last job, Park, it’s jobs two years ago, or five, or ten,” Eliot managed, once he had his breath back. “Part of the package that comes with the lifestyle. It just happens sometimes, don’t matter what schedule we’re on.”

She frowned. “Still. We shouldn’t be doing jobs if you’re hurt. Nate should know that.”

Hardison leaned forward a little more while he was distracted trying to find the right response to that, that they wouldn’t be doing any jobs at all if that were the case, that Nate trusted him to get the job done no matter what, reaching out to his forearm and stopping just a hair’s breadth shy of touching. The hitter froze, and Hardison did too, meeting his eyes. “It’s ok. I’m just trying something out. Is it alright if I touch you here?” At his tiniest of nods, the hacker placed his fingertips on his arm, rubbing circles so lightly that Eliot almost couldn’t feel it. “Let me know where it starts to hurt, okay?” Hardison applied the slightest pressure as he added his other hand and lightly started rubbing down his forearm. When he got to his wrist, Eliot couldn’t help the strangled noise that partly escaped through his nose, high and strained. Hardison moved away from there immediately, going back to tracing soothing, gentle patterns. “You’re ok, you’re ok. I can work with this, no problem. Where do you keep your hot pads, man?”

“Bathroom, lower right drawer,” Eliot grit out. Parker was zipping off to get it and warm it up before he could even process. Hardison applied a little more pressure with his fingertips, rubbing the meat of his forearm. Eliot breathed out long and slow at how good it felt once the initial ache had ebbed.

“I want to try giving you a hand massage, but I don’t wanna hurt you more than it would help,” Hardison said, pausing slightly. “You up for it? I’m not gonna pressure you either way.”

Eliot’s thoughts stuttered, and then bolted in different directions. The feeling that he didn’t deserve this, that this was too much to ask, which had been simmering this whole time leapt to life again. It joined with the wounded, snarling animal part of him that still wanted to hide, burrow down with the covers over his head until his pain faded into the muted background noise of the world. He didn’t even know if a hand massage would work, might make the pain worse.

But it might be nice, a small, hopeful part of him murmured. Eliot couldn’t remember the last time he had been offered something like this, let alone the last time he had taken the person up. If there was anyone he trusted to do it, if there was anyone he wanted to receive it from, it was these two. How could he refuse them even he wasn’t fully on board with what they were suggesting?

“Sure, just…” Eliot said as Parker returned with the hot pad, pausing from tossing it hand to hand like a hot potato to fix her stare on him. He licked his lips, swallowed around a dry throat. “Just be gentle.”

“I will,” Hardison said earnestly, taking the hot pad from Parker to gently maneuver it under Eliot’s hands, resting on his knees. Eliot tensed slightly as the thief leapt up onto the back of the couch, perching above his head, but otherwise relaxed as the warmth of the hot pad started to loosen the ache in his hands. Hardison started where he had before, applying the slightest pressure to the hitter’s forearm. Parker ran her fingertips lightly through his hair, humming.

“Your hair is kinda wonky,” she said, fingers catching on a tangle. Eliot winced.

“That’s what happens when you go to bed without brushing it properly, you know that,” he grumbled, breath hitching as her fingertips grazed his scalp. His breath stuttered again as Hardison’s hands started working towards the sore meat of his wrist. Eliot’s hand began to shake.

“It’s ok baby, I got you,” Hardison murmured under his breath, more soothing sound than words. Eliot cracked open an eye to see him looking between his hands and his phone, playing a video where it was propped on his thigh.

“Man, are you watching hand massage tutorials right now?” he gritted out, doing a poor job of masking his genuine amusement with frustrated disbelief.

The hacker tapped his index finger against Eliot’s arm lightly. “I’ve been watching videos dude; think you’re so slick, tryna hide your hand pain from me. I just wanna make sure I get it right in real time.”

Parker’s fingers running through Eliot’s hair more boldly silenced any follow-up thoughts he had, mind going fuzzy with how good it felt. Without thinking, he insistently pushed his head up further into her touch, making her laugh. The sound reverberated in his chest, leaving him longing to hear it again. Instead a half-whine left his throat as Hardison probed the bottom of Eliot’s palm, the ache drawing him back to full awareness.

The hacker backed off for a moment. “Sorry, sorry. You still cool to keep going?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eliot breathed shakily.

“Just tell me if there’s anyplace else that needs to be handled more delicately, or you don’t want me going at all,” Hardison said, putting his clever hands to Eliot’s again and taking up his gentle, slow pace. Parker’s fingers had paused in his hair a second, but went back to running through it again, scratching his scalp on every other pass.

Slowly, slowly, the vice of pain on Eliot’s hands started to dissipate, bone by bone, finger by finger. He don’t know how long he sat there in a haze, as Hardison and Parker patiently touched him, fixated on the single task of caring for him. The thought made the tender space behind his breastbone twinge. When he surfaced from the half-asleep contentment of their efforts, the television was on, Star Trek playing at the lowest volume. Eliot grunted, lifting his head from the couch to look at the two of them sitting beside him, grinning at his movements. Hardison’s warm hand was still in his, but instead of massaging he was just holding it softly.

“Hey sleepy,” teased Parker, throwing herself over Hardison to get closer and forcing an “Oof!” out of him.

Eliot looked down to his hands, flexing one experimentally, in disbelief at how the ache had faded to an almost imperceptible hum. With the other he tightened his fingers around Hardison’s hand, moving his thumb lightly over his.

“Hey,” Eliot simply said back, a real smile rising to his lips.

#leverage #miko speaks #fic #my fic #ot3 #check og post for more notes