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carooosa · 6 months

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The Rose with Hidden Thorns

A/N This takes place before Enchanted Distractions

Summary: ADHD!Tav (reader) struggles with being a leader. They need to balance what they want and what the rest of the party wants. After taking some time alone for themselves, Tav is caught off guard by Astarion. They share some moments together, before Tav finds out who he really is...

Word count: 4k

Smut if you squint, slight angst at the end

One of the good things that came out of the tadpoles was your increased ability to focus. Remembering what happened last week, let alone yesterday, no longer caused mental strain. For the first time in decades, you were confident in yourself. You could finally think clearly. There was no reason to second guess yourself now that the cloud of uncertainty that followed you around seemed to dissipate.

Botany had been one of your many short-lived passions as a kid, and now out in the forest, each turn brought about new plants and herbs to identify. The catalog that lay dormant in the back of your mind was thrust to the forefront; excitement that was long forgotten making itself known once more.

Not only were you excited to grow your knowledge, but to actually put it to use. The nights you spent under the covers sneaking a few chapters or so of whichever botany book you could get your hands on were finally proving useful. Potions, grenades, elixirs, oils, and anything else that your party needed, you could make. Granted, it took some trial and error at first. The satisfaction of saving your group a few gold was well worth the wasted ingredients.

You couldn’t help it when you ran off to grab a bushel of mugglewort or a handful of weavemoss. Lae’zel was the first to remark on the frequent side paths you would lead the party down.

“T’cthk. There is no time for gathering when we should be hunting down the ghaik that plagued us with these tadpoles,” she said. Lae’zel was always impatient, but when Wyll mumbled approval and Shadowheart wearily nodded in agreement, you faltered.

Noticing your self-doubt, Karlach spoke up. “Aw come on guys, don’t be so hard on Tav. It’s not like they’re doing this for no reason. They make those potions for us so we can save some coin.”

You heard a scoff behind you and turned to face a disapproving Astarion. “Extra gold is useless if you’re a mind flayer, darling.” He grabbed the plant in your hand and grimaced as he took a sniff of it. “You could at least find something with a more pleasant aroma.”

You ignored his remarks, choosing not to get into a petty argument; lately, Astarion seemed to always have a quip or smart remark ready for you. “They’re right, Karlach. We don’t have time to be taking detours,” you say, snatching the daggerroot from Astarion’s hands. “Besides, I can always come back later if I want to.”

Karlach wasn’t satisfied with that answer, and to make it known she stormed to the front of the group and started pushing everyone forward. “If you’re gonna get your panties in a twist over taking too long, you better be ready to get your steps in.”

Karlach had taken it upon herself to act as an older sibling to you. You hadn’t asked, and you were certainly capable of managing things yourself. The silent allegiance was formed after you had convinced Wyll that Karlach wasn’t a devil, and that she wasn’t harming anyone. Although her support was unnecessary, it was appreciated, as being tasked to make difficult decisions as the impromptu leader weighed heavy on you.

You knew you weren’t everyone’s first choice of a leader, anyway. Hells, you weren’t even your first choice as a leader. Wyll seemed like the smartest answer, but neither Astarion nor Karlach felt comfortable with a monster and devil hunter commanding them around. Gale was the next logical option, however with the secrecy of his… condition… and the fact that if he died again he would destroy Faerun, he had been pushed to the back of the party.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel had volunteered at the exact same time, and it was clear amongst everyone that neither of them would be calling the shots. You suggested Karlach, and Astarion had made some comment about how she would blow at the first difficult decision. You’d suggested him then, instead; clearly this is what that manipulative vampire wanted. He smirked when you had said his name, but his eyes searched your face. He was looking for something, and you weren’t sure what. Before you could comment, he had taken you by surprise by saying that you would be the best choice.

“Darling, I do not need that stress. My face is flawless and I’d like to keep it that way. However, you,” he had always found ways to make digs at you, “look like the type who handles stress regularly. You were able to talk your way out of getting burnt to a crisp by a Zhentarim, while he was casting a fireball. You were able to walk into the goblin camp without causing any suspicion. You were able to somehow convince all of us to work together to get these damned tadpoles out of our heads.”

The rest of the group had agreed with his reasoning, and you were set in charge of the party. You tried to argue, but Astarion cut you off

“It’s already been decided. Besides, if you ever need help, I’m sure anyone here would be willing.” He took a step closer to you and lowered his voice to be just above a whisper, “I know I certainly would.” You weren’t sure if he had said that to flirt with you or threaten you, as the glint in his eyes could’ve gone either way.

What he had said about the others helping you had been a load of shit. In fact, everyone seemed to come to you for every little problem now. Gale needed an enchanted artifact to consume? It was up to you to find one. Wyll turned into a half-devil because he didn’t kill Karlach? You had to comfort both of them and promise to find a way to get him out of his pact. Lae’zel stood too close to Shadowheart? You were the one running in between them to stop the impending bloodbath. And yet there everyone was, annoyed that you took quick detours to find ingredients to help them spend less money on potions.

Now here you were, 2 nights later, trying to remember where you saw the herbs on the path taken earlier that day. You were mumbling to yourself as you passed the same dead tree for the 3rd time when you heard a twig snap behind you. You reached into your bag and grabbed the first thing you could to threaten your stalker, turning around to prepare for a fight.

Astarion stood in front of you with both hands up in the air like a thug who had just been caught red-handed. “A mushroom?” He raised an eyebrow while using one of his hands to push the fungus away from his face. “Not the most menacing of weapons, is it now?”

You pushed him away from you as you sighed in relief “Hells, Astarion, you scared me! It’s not nice to sneak up on someone, you know? What are you even doing out here this late?”

He tutted at your reprimanding. “I could ask you the same thing. You’ve been walking in a circle for the past 20 minutes.”

You shoved the mushroom into your bag and turned away from Astarion, continuing to search the brush for plants. “I told everyone I would stop taking detours, didn’t I?”

“So you’re out collecting mushrooms?”

“Not just mushrooms,” you corrected, “other ingredients, too.”

As you dirtied your hands in the brush, a silence fell over the both of you. You grabbed the last morsel of a mushroom and turned around to be faced with Astarion tapping his foot impatiently, his arms folded across his chest. “I haven’t seen you make any potions lately.”

You stare at him incredulously. “I know. I’m purposely not flaunting around the potions that I spend half my night gathering ingredients for and the other half making.”

Astarion laughed and his mouth curled into a devilish grin. “Who would’ve thought that the ever-so-kind and selfless Tav would do something for only their gain.”

A warm blush spread over your cheeks. “You still never told me why you followed me out here. Everyone needs to sleep if we’re going to have any hope of getting these tadpoles out.”

“Darling, are you forgetting that I’m an elf? We don’t ne-“

“Oh that’s right!” You interrupted, “Elves don’t sleep, they meditate. I read that in a book. Is it true that elves can relive exact memories?”

“That… depends.”

Oblivious to his uncomfortable demeanor, you ask more invasive questions. “Is it true that elves don’t grow facial hair? It looked like none of the wood elves in the grove had facial hair. I suppose it’s kinda ignorant of me to just assume all elves are the same. I mean, Halsin is super tall and elves are usually short.” You quickly blurt out an apology, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Besides I wouldn’t even call you short, you’re taller than me, although that’s not saying much,” your words start to tumble over each other as you ramble. You turn back around and bend over a rock to continue searching for ingredients, wincing as you remember you’ve already collected anything of use.

Astarion chuckles as he brings a hand to his forehead. “Yes, it is quite rude of you to assume all elves fit into the exact description you found in whatever children’s book you read.” He looks at you in amusement, “But sadly, no, I cannot grow facial hair.”

“Oh, that’s not so bad. You don’t have to worry about shaving.” With your mind focused on pretending to search, you don’t realize the words you’re saying until after they come out, “it must be nice not having to worry about pubic hair, either.”

You freeze as your mind catches up to your mouth.

Astarion takes a step towards you, positioning himself right behind you, settling his hands gently on your back as he leans down to your ear.

“Was that also in a book of yours?” His breath tickles the tip of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Noticing the way your body reacts, he drops his head down. His lips hover over your neck for a moment before he presses himself into you, causing you to let out a gasp. You feel his hardness push into your back as one of his hands begins to slowly caress your arm.

His behavior surprises you, and you try to think back to any signs of possible attraction. Some looks that linger for a second too long, a hand on the small of your back as he passes by, and the fact that lately he seems to always be next to you, but you don’t want to jump to conclusions. These gestures could very well mean nothing to him and you would be none the wiser.

Thinking back on what you know of him, you realize you don’t know much at all. He mentioned that he was a magistrate in Baldur’s Gate before the mind flayer abduction, but that was about it when it came to his past. Astarion would always change the subject whenever anyone asked him anything personal. Just like he had changed the subject earlier when you asked him a question.

While you were lost in your mind, he began to grind into you, the hand that was previously caressing your arm now gently groping your breast. He placed soft kisses on your neck, moving from the tip of your ear to the nook where your collarbone was. Your body pushed back against his absentmindedly, matching the slow rhythm of movement he had set.

It took him completely off guard when you spoke up. “You never answered my question: what are you doing out here?”

He quickly pushed off of you, “Gods, Tav! You’re still thinking about that?” You scrambled off of the rock and caught a glimpse of him adjusting his clothes. A sticky silence filled the air as you stood and studied Astarion. His face was turned away from yours, similar to how a child would act if they were trying to show defiance. The silence continued as it became clear neither of you would fold. You refused to let him get away with not answering you again.

To ensure there wouldn’t be any other distractions, you stared into the side of his face, repeating in your mind over and over, “What was he doing out here this late?” You weren’t sure how long you both stayed there; seconds, minutes, hours; but at one point Astarion quickly glanced and made eye contact with you before averting his eyes again. You watched as his features softened for a moment. That softness was swiftly hidden by a sly smirk as Astarion relented and turned towards you.

“If you really must know the truth, I was curious as to what you were up to.” Although he spoke with a concerned tone, his eyes were slightly glazed over.

“So you decided to sneak up on me and scare me?” This time you were the one who acted like a child, crossing your arms and letting out a huff.

Astarion let out that mischievous chuckle of his and took a step toward you. “That really wasn’t my intention, whether you believe it or not. I was simply worried about you.”

His words took you by surprise, a small gasp leaving your mouth. You tried to find the words to a smart reply, but instead stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

As if your reaction was what he wanted, the glint returned to his eyes. He closed the gap between the two of you, his movements precise and calculated. Astarion gently grasped your arms and unfolded them, his hands cupping both of yours.

“Is that really so hard to believe, darling? That I could be worried about you?”

You felt your tadpole squirm from behind your eye, causing you to look up at Astarion. He silently pleaded, and you relented, opening up your mind to whatever it was he was going to show you. You closed your eyes, the darkness fading into the previous morning.

You saw yourself from Astarion’s point of view. There was blood sprayed all over your armor from a skirmish with some gnolls. Although you had tried to hide the gaping wound on the left of your back, it was clear now that Astarion had noticed it.

After checking on the rest of your party, you watched as your body stumbled in to what you thought was a secluded corner. Your past self quickly pulled up your armor to apply a salve on the wound. In this vision, you could feel what Astarion felt as he watched you. Concern, yes, but there was something else there. Something feral that had awakened once you pulled up your armor. That feeling was pushed down, and just as he had done earlier in the day, Astarion stayed in place, watching you treat your wound from a distance.

Another vision pushed into your mind, this one unique and new; not a retelling of the past, but instead currently happening to you. You were out in the forest, taking off your clothes. As you lifted your blouse above your head, cold hands wrapped around your waist. You let out a shudder as needy lips worked their way up your back. The kissing stopped at your neck, and you turned your head to the side to get a view of who was with you. Before you could see the white curls and pointy ears of the man behind you, his scent overwhelmed you. You let out a choked gasp.

Astarion made eye contact with you, his eyes radiating that same feral feeling you must have felt in the previous vision. Without leaving you a chance to catch your breath, his lips crashed into yours. He turned your body to face his as his grip tightened on your waist. A low growl started in the back of his throat as he ravished your lips. Instinctively, your hands raised up to his head and grasped at his hair, trying to ground yourself as your pulse quickened.

The familiar feeling of a wiggle behind your eye snapped your mind back to whatever “reality” you were currently in. You felt Astarion trying to dig deeper into your mind, into your wants and desires, and without a second thought, you quickly yanked his head back, throwing you out of the vision.

As you steadied yourself, Astarion made his way behind you, similar to the vision he had forced into your head.

“Darling, let’s go back to camp, hm?” he said in a low, sultry voice.

You were tempted to agree, if for nothing else to at least get some much-needed rest. But if you went back now, there wouldn’t be enough ingredients to make a potion of greater healing, and after your fight with the gnolls earlier today, you were desperately needing one. “I won’t rest until I find that balsam I saw earlier.”

Astarion gave you a tight squeeze before pushing you away, “Gods, you really are persistent, aren’t you? I guess I have no choice but to aid in your search.”

You scoff, “You and I both know that you won’t be getting your hands dirty.”

The two of you spend the next two hours searching. Astarion is the one who finds the balsam, and you’re the one who digs it up. You make your way back to camp, talking about trivial, inconsequential things; anything you can think of to keep your mind off the visions Astarion showed you earlier.

Has he always looked at me with such cravings? Maybe I’m oblivious to any signals he’s given me, you ponder. The utter need you felt from Astarion as you stood in his shoes was almost unbearable. It was hard to breathe. You glance up at him beside you and see that stoic face he always reverts to. His hair looks like it’s glowing in the moonlight, his eyes sparkling like the stars in the sky.

You catch the faint flicker of the camp’s fire in his eyes’ reflection and you pick up your pace, not noticing the brief second that Astarion’s eyes caught yours. Your body aches from the exhaustion of the past few days, and you quickly drop your bag and kick off your shoes, not caring about the mess you’re making. I’ll deal with it in the morning, you think to yourself, as you pass out next to the fire.

You wake up with a jolt and push yourself up from your bedroll. In front of you is Astarion, his eyes swirling with fear. His mouth is opened into a snarl, and the moonlight catches on his teeth.

His fangs.

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” Astarion pleads with you to listen. He says that he’s a vampire spawn. As he continues to frantically explain himself, your body grows numb. Your mind wanders away as you question everything that happened mere hours before.

You sit all the way up from your bedroll, causing Astarion to stumble to his feet. While he’s regaining his balance, you mindlessly ask, “What were you actually doing out late, Astarion?” You don’t look him in the eyes when you question him.

He sighs. A moment passes before he answers, “I was out hunting. I heard a rustling and followed it. To be honest, I thought it was a mouse making that noise. It just so happened that what I heard was you, scrounging around the forest floor.” He lets out a nervous chuckle before continuing, “I was merely curious as to what you were doing. I had no intent to harm you. I promise.”

You don’t believe a word he says, but you’re too tired to question the authenticity of his story. If he wasn’t just ‘curious’ as to what you were doing and instead hunting yo—

You quickly push the thought down and remind yourself that you’re supposed to be a leader to this group, to Astarion. Leaders are strong and benevolent. You’ve always struggled when it came to strength, and lately, more and more blows have been hitting you. Difficult decisions are always on your shoulders, and no matter what you choose, someone is always let down.

You weren’t sure how to command a group of adventurers, but you knew you had to be selfless. And a selfless leader makes any sacrifices necessary for their companions.

“Ok.”

Astarion looks at you with an arched brow. “Okay? You’re not going to shove a stake through my heart?”

Refusing to meet his eyes, you bluntly say, “I’m not going to judge you for taking care of your needs. Everyone in this group needs sustenance to be strong enough to fight.” Your exhaustion is starting to catch up with you, and perhaps if you had more sleep you would have thought your next actions through. Against your better judgment, you tilt your head to the side and offer your neck. “Go ahead, but make it quick.”

Astarion takes a step back, surprised that you would be willing to give him your blood. You’ve also surprised yourself, but your mind is elsewhere as he positions himself on his knees in front of you. You shiver as he gently brushes away the hair from your neck. Without warning, a sharp pain shoots through your neck. You feel your blood drain as Astarion sinks his teeth in deeper, consuming your very life’s essence.

You begin to feel dizzy from the blood loss. Unable to stay present in this moment, you think of all the times any of your companions have helped you, and you realize they all have the same thing in common: they’re using you as protection. Lae’zel and Shadowheart are using you as protection against each other; Karlach is using you as a safety against Wyll. Gale is ensured magical items to consume, and Wyll can rest easy with your assurances of his freedom from Mizora.

You thought he was different, but even Astarion was using you for his benefit. For his place in this group. For his meals. Tears start to pour down your face and your body trembles from the heartache you feel.

Astarion pulls away from you and you finally look him in the eye. His eyes are blown out, practically completely black. There almost looks to be genuine concern on his face. Almost.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you? Well, more than the obvious, of course I hurt you, I can go get a potion,” he rambles, your blood dripping from the side of his mouth.

Barely above a whisper, you stare him directly in the eye as you say, “I thought someone actually cared about me for me, not for what I could provide them.”

Taken aback, Astarion stares at you, his expression unreadable. He quietly gets up and starts to walk into the forest before stopping. “This was a gift, you know. I won’t forget this.”

As you watch him slither into the darkness, your exhaustion comes back. Your body, mind, and blood are all drained. Sleep quickly consumes you, your mind an endless void allowing you no respite from your sorrows.

When you awake, the rest of your party is already packed up and ready to continue on the path forward. You quickly ready yourself, not noticing the neat bundles that the plants from the previous night were tied into, and prepare for the long trek ahead.

Thank you to @socialinadequacybeingsuchamust for helping me with spell checking/grammar/pushing the story in the right direction! And thank you to the many beta readers on @oharahive's discord!

#astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #bg3 shadowheart #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 karlach #bg3 gale #bg3 wyll #fluff #smut if you squint #angst

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 27 days

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AITA for not getting into Genshin Impact?

(note: This situation happened two years ago, back when me and both parties involved were in our final year of high school- I am 19 now, and haven't been in contact with both people since. However, I recently brought this situation up with my current friend group and even though they said I'm NTA, it did get me thinking, so I wanted to get a different view on the situation from an unbiased party)

T (F) and J (NB) used to be best friends back in primary school, yet ended up splitting after J essentially ditched T for a new group of friends. When I (F) had to move town and go to a new school due to my mother's work, I ended meeting T, and the two of us became fast friends. We ended up going to the same high school, and stayed friends.

However, looking back on our friendship now, there were a few red flags that I ignored at the time. For example, both of us have ADHD, and while T was more than happy to infodump about her hyperfixations to me and I was more than happy to listen and ask questions, when it was my turn to infodump, she'd zone out and only pipe up to crack jokes. Whenever I tried to be genuine and start a serious discussion with T, she'd quickly change the subject. T never had a problem with telling me off whenever I did something to upset her, yet when I tried to do the same, she'd essentially go "nuh-uh" and try to dismiss my feelings.

One thing that stuck with me was when, one day, the two of us were having a conversation about meme songs, and she brought up 'What Does the Fox Say?'. I made a comment about how that song was my late father's favourite song, and T (knowing how close I was with my father and how sensitive I still was about his death), told me verbatim "No offense, but your dad deserved to die if that was his favourite song."

Despite all these obvious signs that T was not a good friend to me, I stuck with her- after all, she was my only true friend, and I had a very difficult time trying to make new friends.

Cue to a few years, when J decides that they want to try and apologize to T and hopefully become friends with her again. Even though it took a while for J to fully earn her trust back, T eventually accepted the apology and J joined our friend group.

This is when the trouble started.

While T and J like being in larger fandoms and getting interested in whatever game/show is trending right now, I myself tend to stick to smaller fandoms due to anxiety and like to get into new media at my own pace- for example, when Monster Prom was popular back in 2018, I avoided the fandom like the plague, and only decided to give the games/community a shot last year. I also find I get incredibly upset when I try to force myself into a hyperfixation, so I find it kind of hard to join new fandoms until it feels right for me.

So, in 2021, while I was still in my Pokémon hyperfixation from the previous year, J and T had gotten into Genshin Impact. They played the game every day as soon as they got home from school, and would talk about it constantly, often ignoring what I had to say to do so. As I mentioned before, I had no issue with listening to them and asking questions, yet I did have an issue when they couldn't extend the same courtesy to me. It made me fed up that they'd never give me an opportunity to talk about something I liked, yet expected me to politely sit back and listen to them.

Soon enough, they noticed that I was starting to go silent during conversations and wouldn't even bother to add in, so T messaged me to ask what was wrong. I told T my honest feelings about the whole situation, and they claimed that I should just get into the game so we could all talk about it together. When I told her that wouldn't solve my issue of them ignoring my own interests, she snapped and claimed that I was being insensitive about what was her and J's comfort game and that I should be putting more effort into the relationship. We had a bit of back-and-forth, with me telling T about how I felt excluded and unwanted in the group, and her dismissing my feelings and claiming I was being too sensitive. After that, I cut ties with both of them, and haven't spoken to them since.

So, I ask again: AITA for not just forcing myself into liking a game I had no interest in to maintain our friendship?

#aita #am i the asshole

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loslentesdepedrito · 11 months

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I'm Your Wife- Chapter Two

Bottom left gif by: @binary--sun , bottom right gif by: @interstellarflare

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Previous Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter One

Next Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Three

Word count: 5.1k+

Chapter summary: Nine years later, unexpectedly, Jack hears from you.

Rating: 18+ no explicit content but I'd rather not have minors read these types of subjects. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut, but if you don't want to read them, the story starts after the Whiskey bottles.

Warnings: Angst, language used by the characters is harsh and contains strong emotions, mentions of cheating, pregnancy, divorce, and childhood disease. (I hope I didn’t forget anything, it’s been years since I wrote this.)

A/N: I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to everyone for the overwhelming support on Chapter One! I didn't have much time to work on the graphic for this chapter, so it took me a while to upload it. I have ADHD, and it's currently unmedicated, so that's also a factor. I find that I work best when the house is quiet, but with children around, getting them to sleep can be quite hard, haha! Again, I wrote this years ago, so I apologize for any and all mistakes because if I read this over, I’ll overthink and not post. So, thank you for your understanding, and I hope you enjoy the story!

As Jack's footsteps carry him back to his apartment from the Kingsmen agency, his mind is consumed by the weight of his day's work. An hour before he intended to go home, he found himself inexplicably overwhelmed by a sudden urge to rush to his apartment. It wasn't a foreboding feeling, but rather a strong sense that something good was on awaiting him. If anyone happened to catch a glimpse of Jack's somewhat clumsy dash out of his office, barely avoiding a slip on the freshly mopped floor- no one commented.

Now, in the lobby, with each step closer to his sanctuary, a glimmer of anticipation flickers within him, a faint hope that there might be a respite from the pain that has plagued his heart for years.

Reaching his mailbox, he pauses, his hand steady as he retrieves the day's mail. Among the advertisements, his eyes catch sight of a familiar return address adorned with the emblem of the firm that handled the painful dissolution of his marriage. The sight sends a jolt through his veins, instantly sharpening his senses. He feels a surge of joy and curiosity that threatens to overpower his cool demeanor. This, this is what I’ve been waiting for, he thinks.

With the letter clutched tightly in his hand, Jack climbs the staircase, his heavy and rushed footsteps echoing through the empty building stairway. As he reaches the sixth floor, he pauses for a moment, catching his breath and steadying his racing heart. Fuckin’ hell, I’m really starting to get old.

His apartment building's signature aroma, a mix of aged wood and Reed Diffusers, drifts through the air and the illuminated corridor, offering a soothing moment. With renewed determination, he strides towards his apartment, the key ready in his trembling hand, eager to discover the message held within the white envelope.

Taking the letter inside, he fumbles to close the door behind him, his focus solely on the contents of the envelope. It feels like an eternity as he tears it open, the sound of the paper ripping echoing through the room. Throwing away the torn envelope, his hat, his phone, and his keys on the coffee with disregard, his gaze locks onto the words that lay before him, ink etched upon the pristine white surface.

With each sentence, the gravity of the situation becomes clearer, the weight of the words pressing against his chest. His heart beats faster, his breath growing shallow. The letter, written in a professional tone, contains the invitation he had never anticipated but always hoped for. She wants to meet me. The delicacy and urgency of the matter are subtly emphasized, practically begging Jack to meet you.

Jack's eyes scan the lines, his mind working swiftly to decipher the unspoken pleas hidden within the formal language. He can almost hear your voice, strained and vulnerable, begging for a chance to talk.

The letter extends an offer of legal representation, a reminder that the cold machinery of the law can mediate their meeting. But Jack's resolve is unwavering. He wants this to be personal, as personal as it can get. I can finally clear everything up with her. Tell her what I never said. The opportunity to talk face to face with you without the barrier of attorneys fills him with a mixture of hope and anxiety, like a tightly wound spring ready to unfurl.

A surge of emotions floods his being, the years of longing and unanswered questions vying for attention. He clings to the flickering flame of possibility, for within this letter lies the chance to reclaim what was lost, to confront the lingering ghosts of his past, and maybe, just maybe, you could love him once more. Throughout the past nine years, when Jack basically pushed you out of his life, he lived in constant regret. He promised himself if he ever got a second chance with you, he would take it and do everything in his power to ensure you never felt the same pain as you did during your marriage.

Jack can't help but feel a glimmer of optimism as he sets the letter down. The future is uncertain, but the mere fact that you have chosen to reach out stirs hope deep within him. It's a fragile hope, like a flickering flame in the darkness, but it burns nonetheless.

As the weight of the letter lingers in Jack's hands, his gaze drifts toward his phone. Resting on the table beside the torn envelope lay a familiar device—Jack's unchanged phone, a device that held precious moments. He had never upgraded it because it carried countless memories. It was the very phone into which you had entered your number when you first met. It was the same phone that had kept him up on calls until the sun peeked over the horizon, the same phone that had exchanged texts with you at all hours of the day. It was the very phone where you introduced him to the world of sexting, etching those intimate moments into his memory. Jack found himself continually revisiting these cherished memories, and he never changed his phone number. Perhaps, in the recesses of his hopeful heart, he believed you might someday reach out. Even though the years following the divorce had passed without your contact, he couldn't bring himself to give up hope.

He reaches out for his phone and picks it up, his fingers gliding over the familiar touchscreen. With a deep breath, he dials the number to the firm, his heart pounding in sync with each number pressed.

The sound of the dial tone echoes in his ear, and before the receptionist has a chance to utter a greeting, Jack's voice resonates with urgency, cutting through the silence, "Good evenin’. This is Jack Daniels. I'm callin' for Mr. Raul Santos."

The receptionist, taken aback by his directness, responds with a polite tone, "Good evening, sir. Please hold while I transfer you." The hold music fills the air, a symphony of anticipation mingled with the echo of distant voices. Jack's mind races; moments feel like hours while he rehearses over and over what he will say.

Finally, the ringing ceases and is replaced by a voice on the other end. It's Raul, the person who holds the power to give Jack his biggest wish. Jack wastes no time, the words escaping his lips before doubt can creep in, "Raul, it's Jack. When can I meet with her?" His voice carries a blend of longing and urgency.

"Jack, can you meet tomorrow at St. Andrew's Hospital at 10 AM?" The words hang in the air, filled with anticipation, as Jack's breath catches in his throat.

Why the hospital? Jack's mind questions. Summoning his resolve, Jack finds his voice and responds, "I'll be there."

"Perfect," Raul replies, his voice a lifeline in the abyss of uncertainty. "We'll be waiting for you on the tenth floor of the East Tower. When you sign in on the first floor, tell them you're meeting Dr. Navarro." Jack nods to himself, memorizing all the instructions as if his life depends on it.

Jack's emotions simmer beneath the surface as the call comes to an end, a torrent of hope, nervousness, and a glint of renewed longing. The image of St. Andrew's Hospital burns in his mind, a symbol of new beginnings and the coming together of their separate lives.

With apprehension and excitement, Jack sets the phone down, his hands trembling ever so slightly. Tomorrow assures a reunion, a chance for Jack to apologize for all of the suffering he has caused you. It is a moment he has dreamed of, yearned for, an opportunity to correct all his errors.

As he gazes into the distance, the fading daylight casting long shadows across his tired face, Jack finds solace in the glimmer of hope that glows in his heart. The road ahead may be filled with uncertainty, but at this moment, he dares to believe that the fragments of their broken bond may find a way to heal.

Despite his initial doubts, sleep had managed to find its way to Jack, offering him a few hours of rest. When he wakes, a surge of excitement courses through his veins, fueled by the knowledge that he will soon be reunited with you. The morning light filters through the window, casting gentle rays of warmth upon his face; as he rises with a renewed sense of purpose.

Determined to make a good impression, Jack steps into the shower, the hot water cascading over his body, washing away the traces of sleep and leaving him feeling refreshed. He carefully removes the stubble with each stroke of the razor against his skin, his fingertips tracing the sharp contours of his tanned face, ensuring a clean and polished look. The mustache, once untamed, is now meticulously trimmed, framing his pink lips.

Moving to his closet, Jack sifts through his collection of clothes; a rain of fabric and colors fall on his full-sized bed. He changes in and out of various combinations, looking for the perfect outfit. His fingers glide over the texture of his dress shirts, searching for the best one. Jack eventually settles on a deep blue dress shirt, a charcoal gray blazer, tailored pants that hug his frame just right, and a tie with subtle patterns.

Next, Jack turns his attention to his footwear, opting for a pair of polished black leather shoes. Would you examine his shoes with a magnifying glass? No, but that doesn't stop Jack from meticulously brushing off any lingering specks of dust, ensuring they shine in the morning light. As a finishing touch, he retrieves a felt Stetson hat, a prized possession that holds sentimental value because you gifted him with it. He tenderly cleans it, erasing any signs of wear, and proudly sets it atop his head.

Ready to see you- Jack leaves his apartment, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The crisp, chilly morning air greets him as he exits the lobby. I remember I met my sugar on a day like this, Jack thinks. He pretty much runs towards his car and turns the key making the engine roar to life. With each mile that passes throughout his two-hour drive, his mind remains focused on the meeting ahead.

When Jack arrives at the hospital, he hands his keys to the valet while scanning the surroundings for the reception area. He spots a man in a gray uniform and approaches him, his voice full of eagerness, "Good mornin’,” Jack begins, "I have a meeting with Dr. Navarro at 10 AM."

"May I see your ID, please?" The man asks politely, extending his hand.

Jack hesitates for a moment and reluctantly hands over his ID, watching as the man's eyes scan the name. There's a brief pause, and then the man looks up at Jack, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Jack Daniels." The man says with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow at the name on the identification.

Jack, sensing the unspoken question, clenches his teeth and responds with a touch of irritability, "Yes, it's real." The man understands the tone and directs Jack toward the appropriate elevator.

Jack complied eagerly and made his way toward the elevator. With anticipation, he reached out and pressed the button, making it glow orange. A ding echoed behind him in a matter of seconds. He hurriedly stepped inside the elevator and quickly jabbed at the close button, unwilling to wait for another passenger. Jack kept repeating a mantra of hurry, hurry, hurry in his mind. Without wasting a second, he confidently pressed the number 10.

Jack grows impatient inside the elevator, his fingers tapping restlessly against his hips as he paces back and forth. The rising numbers on the display screen get his attention, frows burring with each digit slowly increasing- reminding him of precious time slipping away. "This has to be the slowest fukin' elevator in the world." He growls in the empty elevator. Frustration lingers in Jack's thoughts; You should've taken the stairs instead of the goddamn elevator, his inner voice cursing the choice that delays the meeting with you. And when the tenth floor finally arrives, Jack leaps into action, his boots hitting the clean baby blue floor with a resounding thud.

Startling the receptionist, Jack raises a hand in apology and walks toward the front desk. He provides his name and appointment details, receiving a buzz of approval before being directed to his destination. Jack rushes forward, his heart pounding. Unbeknownst to him, the receptionist shakes their head, silently cautioning him to be careful, a concern in the receptionist's head so he won't stumble and falls on his ass because of his hurried run.

The instructions echo in his mind, and he checks them off as he goes; walk to the automatic white doors, check, press the buzzard, check, walk to the end of the corridor, check, make a left, check, take one last left, chec-

And there you are, seated on a gray leather bench outside the meeting room, your eyes locked onto the black screen of your phone as if you’re waiting for it to light up, lost in a world of your own. Jack's breath catches in his throat as he takes in the sight of you, and his eyes well up with tears. Time seems to stand still as he stares at you, overwhelmed by the flood of memories and emotions that surge within him. Despite the passage of years, you still possess the power to make his heart flutter, your presence stirring a mixture of awe and love. She's still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, he thinks.

However, Jack's expression falters as he realizes the missed opportunities, the unspoken words, the love not fully cherished. Regret taints his thoughts as he reflects on the path that brought the both of you to this moment. He wants to make amends for the pain he caused you, but Jack knows that this meeting has a different purpose; he doesn't know why the exact reason, but after everything he put you through, there must be a reason you need him. He's not going to let you down, not again.

Summoning his courage, Jack calls out your name. Your head immediately turns towards the voice, one that hasn't graced your ears in years, and for a quick moment, he sees a flicker of reluctance in your eyes. Seeing Jack again, admittingly, stirs up an overwhelming desire to hide from him. All you can see are the haunting memories. A flood of painful flashbacks that would bring you to tears in privacy. The temptation to approach him surges within you, but it's not for a hug or a kiss, no. Instead, you imagine the crimson mark your hand could leave on his cheek. But you take a deep breath, reminding yourself of the reason you reached out to him after all these years.

"I didn't think you were going to show." You finally say, your voice tinged with relief and guarded vulnerability. Rising from the bench, you stand before him, your hands tucked inside the comforting embrace of your black hoodie's pouch.

Jack's heart aches at the sight of you, knowing that the pain he inflicted has left an unforgettable mark on you. Though he craves to erase the memories of hurt, he understands that redemption lies in actions, not words alone. Taking a deep breath, he suppresses his own desire to close the distance, touch you, and maybe taste your lips again. He mentally shakes his head, focusing instead on the reason for your reunion.

"Hi, Sug-" He stumbles for a moment, realizing he no longer has the right to call you by the affectionate nickname. "I mean, hello. I'm here."

"I'm glad you came."

Jack nods, his throat tight with emotions he struggles to put into words. "I knew I had to be here," he says, "I couldn't let this opportunity slip away."

"There are things we need to address, wounds that need healing. I want to make things right, to find a way to move forward together."

You want to interrupt, to rip the bandaid off, but Raul's advice rings in your ears, urging you to let the meeting room be the place to lay everything on the table. So you hold back and let Jack do the talking.

Jack takes a step closer, the distance between you shrinking. His heart pounds in his chest as he gets closer. "I know I've caused you so much pain," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm here today because... because I want to make things right. I wanna understand, I wanna listen, and try to heal the wounds I've caused. I wanna be there for you, to support you, to love you, and do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. And if you'll let me, I wanna be a part of-"

Just as Jack was about to request something that has always been on his mind, a door opening from behind you interrupts him. Raul with one foot inside the meeting room and the other in the corridor, calls out for both your names.

"We're ready for you," Raul announces a sense of urgency in his voice. He holds the door open, his gaze shifting between the two of you.

You exchange a quick glance with Jack, seeking reassurance, a silent confirmation that he'll follow through and both of you follow Raul into the conference room. The door shuts softly behind you, filling the room with the only sound. Your gaze sweeps the room, and you take in the white conference room with its black and white marble table in the middle and the soft glow of natural light.

Feeling a wave of emotions crashing over you, you instinctively shut your eyes for a few seconds to compose yourself. This is a lot harder than I expected... the thought lingers in your mind. Dr. Navarro's words echo in your memory, urging you to relax through the simple act of breathing. Breathe in, breathe out, you repeat silently, allowing the rhythmic inhalation and exhalation to steady your racing heart.

Choosing your chair carefully, you opt to sit with your back facing the window. It provides a sense of security and shields you from external distractions allowing you to solely focus on Jack. Your hand reaches out and lands upon one of the gray roll-on chairs, its smooth leather headrest cool against your fingertips.

On the opposite side of the table, Jack is reluctantly guided by Raul to his designated seat. Oh, I can sit wherever I damn well please, he scoffs silently, but I suppose I can play by the rules for now. Just think about all the appointments with Dr. Reynolds and what-if scenarios. Don't mess this up. He takes a seat, begrudgingly accepting the arrangement, while his back deliberately faces the door. The positioning serves as a physical reminder of the boundaries and emotional distance that have grown between the two of you throughout the years.

Raul takes a seat at the head of the table. Clearing his throat, he breaks the silence. "Thank you both for coming today. As you may already know, the purpose of this meeting is of utmost importance. Mr. Daniels, the reason my client-"

Jack interrupts, his voice filled with a mix of urgency and vulnerability. "Stop. I don't want this to be an official meeting. I just... I want," he glances at you, his eyes searching for understanding, "I just want you to do the talking, please." He knows he has no right to make demands, but he wants to talk with you directly, to bridge the gap between you, if even it's just for a moment.

Raul looks at you briefly, to see how you're doing. "My role is simply to facilitate the conversation," Raul responds, his voice assuring and tinged with a hint of anger. Maldito inútil malparido (Fuking useless bastard). This asshole hurt her so much. How dare he make demands? Raul is well aware of the pain Jack caused you. He was one of the first people you confided in about the divorce, and he naturally helped you with the process. Raul cashed in many favors to expedite the process which would usually take time. In fact, he stayed up all night to ensure that he could serve Jack the papers the morning after you left him.

Truth be told, Raul initially liked Jack when you first introduced him to your friends. However, as time went on and you grew more serious, Jack's repeated slips of the tongue and thoughtless actions made Raul's opinion of him sour. The final straw for Raul was when Jack couldn't even give you the wedding you deserved. Raul knew how much you loved Jack, so even though he could see through your forced smile when discussing the wedding details, he congratulated you both and sent a gift.

You meet Raul's gaze, conveying your appreciation for his support. "Raul, está bien. (Raul, it's okay.)" You say softly, recognizing his concern and knowing that you need to have this conversation directly with Jack.

With a nod, Raul settles back in his chair, allowing the focus to shift solely to the two of you. The room is filled with a charged silence. As you prepare to speak, you take a moment to gather your thoughts and decide how you want to phrase everything.

"My baby... my baby has Fanconi Anemia and needs a blood donor." You explain, your voice trembling with desperation. "No one in the family has been a close match. Even among friends, no one is a match. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that almost everyone I know has been tested, but a donor hasn't been found."

You pause, the weight of the situation making your heart hurt. "Just a month ago, we were hopeful. A match was finally found through the National Marrow Donor Program. We finally felt like we could breathe, but then she was involved in a severe car accident. She was T-boned by a drunk driver, and her car fell into a ditch, causing a traumatic brain injury. Thank God she's going to be okay, but unfortunately, her condition disqualifies her from being a donor."

Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. "Now, we're back to square one, searching for a compatible donor, but it's going to take a long time again. Jack, I know you didn't love me or care about me, and I understand that you didn't want me to have the baby. But please, I'm begging you to get tested to see if you're a match. If you are, please consider donating."

A rush of emotions floods through you, a mixture of fear, vulnerability, and a glimmer of fragile hope. You gaze into Jack's eyes, desperately searching for a spark of compassion, a willingness to help. "I understand you still resent me for everything. If you do this, I promise it will be the last time I'll contact you. I won't ask for anything more. Please, Jack."

Jack takes a moment to absorb your words, his eyes flickering with a complex mix of emotions. "What's their name?" He asks, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of longing.

"His name is Ángel." You reply softly, feeling a bittersweet ache in your heart.

Jack's eyes widen, and a myriad of emotions passes over his face. "Ángel." He repeats and although he can't quite replicate your pronunciation thanks to his accent, it's still beautiful to him. "I have a son." He whispers, his voice barely audible.

A flood of thoughts and emotions washes over Jack, overwhelming him. He shuts his eyes momentarily, attempting to process everything. This newfound knowledge stirs something deep within him, a sense of responsibility and a longing to be a father. I lost a son before he was born, I missed out on Ángel’s life when I said I didn’t want him, but I won’t lose him again.

With determination in his voice, Jack looks at you. "I'll donate. I’ll do whatever it takes to help Ángel.”

He’s going to do it, you let out a sigh of relief. The alleviation that surges through you, washes away some of the anxieties that had been weighing you down. You're grateful that Jack is willing to take this step, to offer his help for the sake of your son. However, before you can express your gratitude, Jack's questions pour out in a rush.

“But... what is Fanconi Anemia? How bad is it? Is the procedure going to hurt him? Does he need surgery? What if I’m not a matc-" his voice trails off, uncertainty and concern etched on his face.

Realizing his anxieties, you reach out and gently interrupt him, calling his attention. "Jack," you say softly, trying to soothe his worries. "Breathe."

"I'm sorry. I forgot to explain Ángel's condition. His doctor was supposed to join us, but I can explain for now."

You take a deep breath, grateful that Jack is willing to help. "Fanconi Anemia is a rare condition where the bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood cells." You explain, your voice filled with sadness. "Ángel was diagnosed fairly recently because he didn’t have any physical abnormalities. But then, he started experiencing frequent nosebleeds, which was weird to us. We took him to his Pediatrician, who ordered blood tests. The results showed abnormally low blood counts, and that's when we knew something was wrong."

A twinge of admiration and pride fills your words as you continue. "He underwent a bone marrow needle biopsy to confirm the diagnosis. It wasn't an easy procedure, even though they numbed the area. I could see the discomfort in his eyes, but he never complained. In fact, he saw that my eyes were red and swollen, and he reassured me that he didn't even feel it. I knew it was a lie, but he just wanted to protect me."

Your voice trembles with a blend of love and admiration as you speak of your son's strength. The memories of his bravery since before his official diagnosis fills your heart with both pride and a deep ache. You pause for a moment, to regain your composure.

You are about to explain more about his condition and the procedure when the door behind Jack opens. Jack's gaze is solely focused on you since he assumes his son's doctor is the one coming in. Suddenly, you have a smile on your face when you look over Jack's shoulder, and he's confused until he hears the voice of the man that has given him nightmares ever since he got served with divorce papers.

“Cariño, Danny, and Heidi are staying with Ángel now,” Javier says as he makes his way to you, his presence a comfort for you and unease for Jack. "Sorry I'm late, I wanted to stay to see if he could keep his food down." He hovers over you and kisses the top of your head.

He pulls out a chair next to you, and that's when Jack sees it – a wedding band on Javier's left ring finger.

Fuck.

Unconsciously, you pull your hand from underneath the table and place your left hand on Javier's for comfort.

You had your hand covered the entire time, and that's when Jack notices it- your rings.

Fuck.

You’re married to him? Jack seethes in his head.

“Jack.” Javier nods but Jack can’t respond. How can he respond when another man is married to the love of his life?

In a moment of anger and hurt, Jack blurted out, "Did you cheat on me with him? Is that why you wanted a divorce?" Jack asks, the pain and jealousy bubbling to the surface.

Just like that, some of the gratitude for Jack shatters.

The response from you was immediate, “Jesus, no, you asshole,” you spit out, offended. “How dare you ask that?”

“You didn’t love me. That’s why I divorced you." You retort, feeling the anger resurface.

At that moment everything he discussed with Dr. Reynolds, all of the progress was gone. He did just find out so much within the past few minutes, and his usual coping techniques seemed to fail him in this moment of overwhelming emotions.

“Wait, if you cheated on me with him, that means he could have been the one to knock you up. How do I know Ángel is my son?” Of course, you remarrying was killing him, but if that on top of having his son snatched when he just got him back, it would end him.

“I never cheated on you, Jack.” You spit out, offended. “You were the one that was involved in another relationship, even if it was emotional. Not me. Don’t make me the villain.”

"You’re Ángel’s biological father, Jack." You emphasized, hoping to dispel any doubts he had. But he seemed stuck in his head.

Biological, the word echoed in his ears. It was a harsh reminder that he was just the man who contributed to Ángel's DNA. He hasn't been his dad, and if he keeps this up, he will never know his son like he wants to.

"You want a paternity test? Done," you offered, wanting to rid his doubts. "But if you don’t want to take my word for it, Fanconi Anemia is an inherited disease. Ángel has the FANCR gene, which is autosomal dominant. I got screened for it, and I’m not a carrier. Autosomal dominant means that a gene from one parent can cause the genetic condition. If I didn’t pass the gene, that means you’re the carrier. That’s how Ángel got the disease."

The reality hit him like a ton of bricks. I did this to my son. He’s sick because of me.

The room falls silent, the weight of the revelation hanging in the air. The pain and guilt wash over him, and Jack is overwhelmed by his emotions.

"Querida, calm down. This isn’t good for you. Te va ser daño. (It’s going to harm you.) This isn’t good for the baby," Javier tries to soothe you, his voice gentle and caring. Javier's dark eyes bore into Jack with rage. Jack can feel the anger emanating from your husband. Javi leans forward, his body language asserting his presence. His jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck visibly tense, and his hands grip the edge of the table as he struggles to keep his emotions in check.

The baby? Jack thinks.

The hospital is always cold, which is why you always have a sweater with you, but right now, you feel like you're burning up. You lean back from the table and unzip your hoodie, instantly feeling cooler with your sweater out of the way.

Jack's eyes are drawn to your swollen and round stomach, and he's speechless.

Extended note: Just as I thought, Jack is more popular than Dave, so in the meantime, I'll be working on the graphics for this series instead of Eres Mía. Dave is one of my top 3 favorite Pedro characters, and I think he's highly underrated, but I get the love for the cowboy!

I'm slowly adding titles of fics that I plan on sharing, so if you see something without a link on my masterlist, I'll get to it (eventually). After this series is completed, I think I'll post another Whiskey one-shot (he's been to therapy in this one :), but I'm not too sure yet.

If you've read this far, thank you, and have a great day 🤎

Please feel free to comment and reblog! I truly do love reading them!

Tag list: @kchavez666 @ttupelohoneyy

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skiplo-wave · 11 months

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ADHD Boy plagues Austic girl's head yet again the manga

#chainsaw man #denji hayakawa #asa mitaka #asaden

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drsarcasticraspberry · 3 months

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anyway it's been a hot sec (6 years? idk time isn't real) but here's some updates:

used to be smolsarcasticraspberry for anyone that remembers me from The Fandom We Don't Talk About lol

I'm a guy now!

got diagnosed with ADHD

got divorced

dated my best friend for a while. it didn't work out. not gonna talk about it on main

got my doctorate despite a worldwide plague

it's dr sarcastic raspberry now

started testosterone. it's going great lads

got top surgery. best decision i ever made. farewell stupid tits!

moisturised thriving in my lane etc

i really missed the vibe of this place and wanted to start up a blog again. the blog content is gonna be a lot less fandom and a lot more dnd/OCs/reblogging art/etc.

also i'll be reblogging/posting a lot more adult content this time around i think. if you're not into nsfw stuff feel free to unfollow with no hard feelings!

that's about it.

#about me #blog updates

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aromanticannibal · 1 year

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Present Mic headcanons! he lives in my head :D (edited as of Nov. 2023)

He's powerfully homosexual he loves men SO much.

He's demiromantic! He's only ever been in love with Oboro and Shouta

He's so fucking tall. And he wears platforms. And his hair is. It's his hair

So many freckles. He has red head skin, pale with so many freckles

Part American on his mother's side, his parents are divorced and the mom lives in the US

Heterochromia Mic my beloved. One green eye one red eye, they're so damn bright too. He makes heterochromia jokes with Shouto.

Fashion wise, he's a very strange mix between a punk, an English teacher (as in, language teacher, not literature teacher) and this one guy who's shirtless and wearing rainbow makeup and glitter at Pride.

He's so blind without his glasses, it's terrible. He's also deaf because of his quirk

For these reasons, he uses his platform as a popular hero and radio personality to talk about disabled people and stuff. He also talks about queerphobia issues and quirk discrimination, though he tends to focus more on blatant differences like Shouji or Tokoyami type of quirk.

When the main kids are in third year, they start being surprise guests on his show and talk about other issues with him (and just fun stuff as well). The first one to participate is of course, hero nerd Midoriya.

Hizashi and Shouta have what the experts call a weird ass relationship. For the longest time, they just lived together without really dating but being completely aware they were in love with each other. One day Shouta told Hizashi it would be easier if they were married for like tax purposes and stuff. So everyone thought they were getting married platonically but they organized a wedding and stuff. Midnight was the maid of honor and Shouta's cat was the best man (his name is Bastard). A couple of heroes they're friends with and trust were invited (Tensei, Yagi - though Shouta was reluctant - 13...) as well as some vigilantes Shouta's friends with, and after a lot of begging, 1-A students (they had to sign a contract that said they couldn't tell anyone about the wedding or take pictures). It was cheesy as possible, completely normal wedding, but after it happened, Shouta and Hizashi never acknowledged it again. Kaminari is wondering if he hallucinated them kissing and slow-dancing together. They also kept the same last name. The only thing that changed is that they're more affectionate in private, and that they call each other their husband.

An Hizashi themed clickbait article would probably be "PRESENT MIC'S HUSBAND'S IDENTITY REVEALED????"

Hizashi sometimes says he has a husband in passing and everyone clinged onto this fact and is desperately trying to find out who the husband is. Midoriya is incredibly happy to know he has hero knowledge only a few select people are aware of.

Going back to Hizashi specific stuff, the man has some powerful ADHD (Shouta is autistic, they're the ADHD autism couple) but he very strangely knows how to deal with it. He knows how he functions so he does really weird stuff sometimes or does things in an allegedly inefficient way because it'll ultimately will make him do more stuff

He also has the new hobby every month disease, except he actually learns a lot and his hobbies kind of rotate, so he's very good at very random stuff. For exemple : embroidery (but he can't sew for shit), a shit ton of instruments (but not the drums), he knows a lot about cats (this fixation was started by Shouta's own special interest in cats), he knows how color theory works (somehow), he's very good at cutting or dying hair, etc.

In high school he had to make an essay about quirk laws but he was uninspired so he desperately tried for a week to make himself fixate on quirk laws, finally writing his essay five hours before the deadline. The consequence of this was an hyperfixation on quirk and hero laws a month later, which plagued him for an entire month more. He therefore knows a lot about laws.

He had an emo phase in middle school. I know it, Horikoshi told me

Hizashi becomes incredibly irritable when it's raining or storming, similar to how Shouta becomes quiet and distant in that weather.

He has a lot of piercings but only where people can't see. Where that ends up being is your choice, I have my own ideas :)

He actually has anger issues, similar to Bakugou, but is way better at handling them. This, in addition to them both being deaf/partially deaf, should have made them somewhat close, but Hizashi actually really dislikes Bakugou.

He has favorites, and unlike Shouta, he very much says who his favorites are. (Uraraka, Kaminari, Shinsou, Jirou and Kouda. He also likes Todoroki but not as much as the other faves) He definitely gets merch of them once it's available (and creates Shinsou merch for him and Shouta, like how he made Eraserhead merch)

Because this is still my blog here's a point about Shimsou, my son the light of my world : Hizashi takes a liking to the kid immediately because of how much he looks like Shouta. He also likes his sarcasm and smartass attitude, he thinks it's adorable (which Shinsou evidently hates). While Shouta won't adopt Shinsou, they're still like father and son to each other, and Shinsou jokes by calling Hizashi his step-dad.

He's very protective of his friends and very good at noticing when something is bothering them.

HE CAN UNHINGE HIS JAW. His fans find it very hot (it's me, I'm his fans)

Everytime he tries to dress up nicely, he fails miserably (case on point : this). He's infamous for it.

He doesn't especially like small children, except for ONE small child and it's Eri. She's the light of his life he loves her so much.

After Shouta adopts her and Hizashi gets custody of her as well by default, he immediately starts researching how to be a good step-dad. Eri will for some reason start calling him her uncle, despite him being married to her dad, but Hizashi is fine with it, he loves just being a part of the little girl's life.

He's a KING at Just Dance and karaoke nights.

My hand is, for some mysterious reason, itchy. So this is the end of the post :D

Feel free to tell me about ur own headcanons whenever /gen

#hizashi yamada #present mic #erasermic #aizawa shota #aizawa shouta #mha #bnha #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #sfw headcanons #funny #i hope #eri aizawa #long post #ciders mha hyperfixation

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angel-of-the-moons · 27 days

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Soul Survivor's House

The SoSu would most likely avoid the house like the plague for weeks until she was mentally prepared to head into it again. Codsworth, bless his heart, has done a very good job of keeping the place intact!

(Plus some interior redesign because you can't tell me they did not have a basement/bomb shelter even though they lived so close to Vault 111)

Decorating this house and the basement in total took about.... 6 and a half hours? Long time, my ADHD kept kicking in lol

#fallout #fallout 4 #cod mwii #fallout x codmw2 #fallout x call of duty #crossover #fallout x reader

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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 1 month

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Tongue Tied Together

🩸Previous Parts Here🩸

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heat), alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, grumpy Dom, Tom being his helpful self, discussions of sex, mentions of killing, cursing, grumpy tea making, insults, light stalking, Dom being clueless, Kells being stubborn, Kells being a badass boss bitch, discussions of serious topics such as- trafficking, past assault (physical and SA), allusions to childhood trauma and sexual trauma (all just explained in a discussion- nothing is said in detail but keep yourself safe!), Collette being a badass gem and trying to help dumb boys, enemies to lovers 💣 Rating: mature

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

“You look like ‘hammered shit’ as the kids say. Sweet dreams again I suppose?” Tom's voice was soft as Dom entered the kitchen of their flat. His words were harsh but they'd never sugar coated life for each other. Considering the way they met it wouldn't make sense to be gentle, the photographer knew what the Alpha was before they even spoke. They'd made a home together of sorts even though they only liked each other as brothers and they even mixed home and work life. Tom ran a photography crime blog and was basically Dom's hitman assistant- there was really no need to be kind.

“Fanks. Tea?” If Dom was speaking so little he had obviously slept terribly, the boy's ADHD made him ramble like a five year old on meth when he wasn't in desperate need of a kill. It worried his best friend to see him so down.

Tom nodded to the kettle and watched the other man shuffle around the room. It had been over a week since the kid had come home covered in mating mess and grinning like mad- quite literally like mad, Dom was certifiable but they took care of each other and he'd helped find ways to keep his friend mostly sane. Then he accidentally sent him after that mob boss omega and everything and nothing changed. He hated watching the kid hurt but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He knew Dom was still ‘keeping an eye’- the Alpha's phrase for stalking, but he guessed the man still hadn't contacted him again. Since that happy afternoon delight the killer had been fighting old demons at night and while normally Tom would tell someone to talk to their fucking mate, this was a special case. Wasn't Dom always one…

Tom knew more than he probably should, the other man could overshare like no one else when he was manic. They'd been through everything together so he was used to it. He'd even been the one to help get the Alpha's wards set up in the states. Anyone who did so much to give their little sisters such a good life was a saint in his book, even if that halo of Dom's was held in place by horns. He just didn't know if the demons plaguing his friend were from his past or his present. It was hard to fish when the one you're trying to help occasionally enjoyed seeing people's insides on their outsides. Not that he'd ever truly threatened Tom.

“Tea's good today.” Even grumpy Dom could compliment his friend but it felt like a chore making himself sit across from him.

Tom took a deep breath that he didn't mean to let escape in a sigh as he made a choice and glanced up at the Alpha. He looked awful, dark circles under dead eyes and his hair even more wild than normal. “You know you can just… talk to him right?”

Dom was too tired to roll his eyes so instead he dropped his sight to the cup in front of him. Damn Tom for being so perceptive. “I don't care-” He stopped short. He couldn't lie with the man he thought of as his brother. “He's got me number.” He shrugged instead and he didn't have to look to know the other wasn't too tired to roll his eyes.

“And you've got his. Hell, you see him so often you could just… say hi? Of course not. So what? You just stalk him into submission?”

“I don't bloody know Tom. He needs me. I can feel it but he's so fucking stubborn!” The scoff his friend answered him with made his brow arch. “Fairs. Ya cunt. You know it's ya fault. I mean who fucks someone and never talks to ‘em again?” The voice crack and silly question showed the boy's age but it still hurt the omega's heart.

“Almost everyone?” He shrugged back but it wasn't what the kid needed to hear. People could be shit, that didn't mean Colson was. “He's got secrets too. You said…” He had to take a breath and prepare himself for an awkward conversation. Weren't they all though? He could still remember the time he had to catch the Alpha and bathe him after Dom attempted to stop killing cold turkey, before he decided to just protect his girls from afar. He didn't want a bad Alpha in their lives, even himself. Of course the break in self care and release for his urges wasn't the right choice. Tom still couldn't forget the sight he'd walked in on after tracking the boy down that night. Having to spray down a full grown arsehole after he ran home half naked and covered in red was an experience they didn't talk about. Awkward was relative. “He seemed… new to that, yeah?”

“‘Ere was blood. And wiv ‘ow he talked… If I weren't the first I'd be surprised.” That thought yet again sent a rush of emotion through Dom he couldn't fully understand. Why did that make his stomach flip? His cock twitch? His heart felt funny in his chest.

“And he was on heavy duty Alpha hormones. Long enough to grow up here since around puberty and pass. I've researched everything I can on him and for what the world knows he's an Alpha. That could have been his first heat. I can't imagine what it's like going through that so late.” Tom shuddered. It was a truly terrifying thought.

“Alright well ‘en why? Wha’ ‘append to start it?” Dom could feel the other man glaring at him. He wasn't daft, he just… didn't always understand simple things. Ask him how long it took someone to bleed out from a neck wound and he was a genius but his father hadn't cared to teach him omega sex ed beyond where he was supposed to stick his knot in one.

“You're serious? Dominic… Fucks sake. You. You happened.”

“Wha’ ya mean?” The boy almost whimpered. He genuinely didn't understand. Not really. Or maybe he just couldn't let himself. He wasn't ready. How could he be?

“I'll just say… you had the right pheromones for each other. But-” Tom was scared to ask the next question. He knew he had to navigate carefully, he couldn't let his friend go off the deep end. “So just that one time?” He paused long enough for Dom to nod. “And you've been close enough to see if he's still sick?”

“He seems alright now. Bitchy but alright. Maybe he got new blockers.”

Either the omega found stronger blockers, the old ones messed up his system so much that it was a false heat, or… No, it had to be one of the two. There was no way they wouldn't notice anything else, not with how drawn to each other they were. Tom just didn't know whether to push the Alpha to talk to Kells or not. Granted… maybe it didn't have to be Dom he gave the nudge to.

🩸☠️🩸

Colson was pissed. The man he was supposed to meet for the buy he had set up was later than anyone had given him the disrespect of before. The club was mostly quiet around them, even the normally pounding music was turned down. That was the benefit of owning your own place, you could do whatever you wished with it, but there were still enough people milling around to keep trigger happy idiots from doing anything stupid. He was in the VIP section taking up most of a velvet bench seat, his lanky body spread out to give the appearance of nonchalance. In actuality the omega was raging inside and wondering who to shoot first.

“Hey boss…” Mod’s voice was almost shaking, the beta obviously didn't want to bare any bad news.

From behind his purple shades Kells watched his friend nod his head indicating to someone against the far dark corner of the building. For a moment he thought the seller had finally arrived but no- it was just the fucking Alpha a-fucking-gain. Maybe Dom was who he should shoot first. A small part of his inner turmoil relaxed at the sight of him. He hated that he couldn't stop himself from feeling safer and calmer in the killer's presence. He didn't ask for him to come, Dom was always just… there. “Leave it. He's not the problem right now.” Colson snapped, trying to move his sight away from his stalker. He could feel his core pulse between his thighs but he ignored it. He would ignore the Alpha as well.

“But-” Megan huffed from Col’s other side and he shot a withering glare at her. It must have been something because she rolled her eyes and looked away, crossing her arms with a huff.

“I don't care if he wants to be a god damned fly on the wall alright? He's not doing shit but creeping.” Kells shrugged, he was tired of her bullshit to be honest. He was tired of everything. The past week had been one of the weirdest of his life and he just needed one thing to go right.

After the impromptu bang sesh the Monday before he and Dom had gone their separate ways with a few more insults tossed at each other, though they felt a little more playful than before. He'd gone home and slept like the dead and starting the next day he'd tried a new blocker. The fucking things just straight up refused to work. He wasn't sick anymore but he could tell the fake hormones weren't working. After a few days of trying he just tossed them out. It wasn't too bad anyway, he still felt slick when he saw the psycho which happened a lot more than he'd assumed it would, but that was about it. Every day Dom would appear in the shadows and while at first it pissed him off, now it was simply a part of life. The hitman was just his annoying shadow, the guy didn't even try to talk to him or anything. Sometimes he even caught Dom curled up on his balcony asleep. He refused to admit he slept better those nights.

He finally looked away from his new Alpha shadow and checked the time on his watch. “Fuck! I hope this asshole knows-”

“Boss!” Before Colson could finish his threat the man in question appeared at the door. Kells felt his trigger finger twitch but he didn't reach for his gun. Yet. He noticed his mother disappearing from her seat next to him but she rarely stayed around for the meetings. It was a compliment if anything, she trusted him as much as she'd trusted the man she loved.

Pete- the man he normally trusted to be his go between with sellers looked suitably shaken as he came to meet the group. The beta was trying to look hard but there was a subtle trembling in his limbs. When he reached Colson's table he took a seat across from him and his knee bounced. For just a moment the omega wondered if that was how people acted around Dom but he pushed that away. He was scarier than his golden retriever psycho. “You gotta understand- this ain't on me alright boss? I swear! These guys they just… they never showed up and all I got was this text saying the shipment was taken care of. I dunno what that means boss. Ya gotta know I wouldn't fuck you over. You're my best customer! I mean-”

Colson arched a brow at the man's nervous rambling. It would be hilarious to let him work himself up to pissing himself but Kells was tired. Dom hadn't slept close the night before. Fuck. He shouldn't let himself get used to it. “You mean what? That you fucked me over? That you're so fucking shitty at your job you lost me millions on product? Cause that's what this is Petey. You. Fucked. Up. Now, why shouldn't I just shoot you now and be done with it? You'll take out the trash, right?” He asked the last of Mod who nodded but then Megan was laughing at his threat and resting her hand on his thigh. It automatically made him itch and his gaze flicked to where he'd last seen the Alpha. Shit- was his mom talking to the freak?

“Cause you love me boss! We're friends!”

“Are we? My friends don't lose my shit.”

“Fucks sake boss I didn't mean to!”

“They already rescheduled from last Friday to tonight. Is this why? They were trying to fuck me over?” Kells was near growling. He hated being disrespected like that. The previous leader never was. Everyone acted as if Col was softer and he always worried it was his secret, that somehow everyone felt it without knowing.

“All I gots a text. Fuckers said the buy was done. I dunno boss. I'm sorry.” Pete shrugged and looked near to passing out.

He should be sorry. Everyone should be. Pete didn't know but Colson- just like his adoptive father before him didn't buy up omegas to sell. Travis had hated the way the fairer designation was treated and he built up his family to save them. That's how Kells had made it to them originally, thanks to his asshole Alpha bio dad. They made their money in guns and drugs but while everyone thought they were the best in the trafficking world they were doing quite the opposite. They would purchase shipments of omegas and give them new identities. New lives. Not everyone in the family was a fan of it but it was his reason to live. The reason his secret was so important. In truth deep down he and his stalker weren't so different.

🩸☠️🩸

Dom felt his polite mask slip in place as Collette approached him, though part of his smile was genuine. He truly liked her. She was a sweet but hard omega with her son's eyes and smile. Not that Colson ever smiled. She moved to hug him and he accepted it even if he was a little stiff. After squeezing him tight she led him away to a table but let him keep his needed line of sight as they sat down. “Sweetheart, you look like hammered shit.” Her voice was lovely and her words… true. He couldn't deny it.

“You ain't the first to say tha’ today. Jus' can't sleep. I'll be alright.” He shrugged one shoulder, his fingers tearing apart a coaster on the table. He couldn't help fidgeting at all times.

“May I ask what's wrong?” Her voice stayed gentle as she laid her hand over his. Dom had never had a good mum and for just a moment he wondered if he'd be different with someone who cared like her. She genuinely seemed to already.

“Rough week. He-” The Alpha grit his teeth, he didn't know much about social or relationship norms- not that he was in one- but he was pretty sure bitching to a fuck buddy’s mummy wasn't allowed. Bollocks.

The omega tried not to chuckle as she watched the boy fight himself over something. He was so young and sweet seeming, even though she knew who he was in the dark. Killing didn't phase her, she'd done her own plenty when needed and she wasn't as blonde as she appeared to be. It wasn't hard for her to see the common denominator in every one of Yungblud’s hits- Alphas. Bad ones. Hell, to the rest of the world her son was the leader of the top trafficking ring, she understood why Colson would be on his list and she knew that they shared the same principles, they just took care of the problem in different ways.

“You know when I met my husband I was scared to let him in. I fought and I fought and I told him I hated him every day for months. He had basically bought me from- from my previous husband and I hated all Alphas for it for a long time. He always said I was free to go though and I just… didn't. I couldn't make myself.” She laughed softly and brushed her hair behind her ear. “Eventually I realized I could trust him and we grew closer. By the time Colson came to us we were in love and I was finally strong enough to help my boy through hell.”

Dom’s brows furrowed and his gaze flicked between the two. Colson was too far away for his liking but he could see him. “Wha’ ‘append? To Cols I mean.”

Collette took a breath and pulled her hand back to fidget herself. She didn't know exactly how much she could say but she also didn't want the boy giving up. “My first husband… He was someone I think you'd like to meet with those knives you seem so partial to.” She paused as she watched Dom start to reach for his bag before he stopped and sat up straighter. “I was given to him by my own father very young and he was a religious ass who thought Alphas were God's gift and omegas were-”

“I know tha’ type. I fink me dad and Col’s would ‘ave been friends.” Dom shuddered.

“Yes well… He hated that I gave him an omega son. He was… he was terrible to us both. After the birth he hated me and let me know it. His brother was just as bad but that bastard thought if my husband wasn't using me…" She paused to let the gravity sink in. Her brother-in-law had been a sick fuck. Both of them were. "When Colson was two my ex caught his brother assaulting me and of course blamed me. He beat me so badly the next week was a blur. I woke up the day Travis found me and we tried to get my son back but the fuckers had moved.”

Dom watched her calmly talk about the hell she'd been through as if she were speaking about the weather. He knew that feeling, that separation from your own trauma because it was far too big to feel. He had his own story and he gave her the respect she deserved by keeping eye contact as he listened. “Wha’ appended to ‘im?” There was a soft growl in his chest.

“I'm not sure it's my story to tell. But history repeats itself, I think we both know that. My son came back to me broken. It had been a decade and he was… he'd been through something terrible. As soon as it was safe he went on blockers and my love took him under his wing. It was Col's choice to hide. Just please understand he has a good reason to be scared of what you did together. He might be terrified for a while. Please just… be patient? I think you could be good for each other. And he'll really need you now.” She gave him a soft smile and he nodded.

He couldn't do much more than that. The sociopath wasn't used to emotions but something was aching in his chest. He knew what her words meant. He hadn't technically been the omega's first, just the first he allowed. The panic Dom had felt in the moment was shared. He also knew there were two new names on his list but he wouldn't leave the man yet to take care of it.

“He stopped taking his blockers. If you were worried. He'll figure it out. Just give him time.” She soothed but he was confused why he should care about that. The Machine Gun could do whatever he wanted with his body. He didn't hate the thought of being able to scent him though. “Oh.” Collette laughed softly, shaking her head. “I'll talk to him, alright? Don't give up.” Her voice was sweet as she patted his arm over where the omega had bit him as if it meant something more than he understood. He couldn't help admiring her beauty and she wasn't much older it seemed than her son. If Colson had been sold at twelve... Maybe she had been married off then too. Yeah, those two were definitely on his list. After a moment she slid off her chair and pressed a kiss to his cheek before disappearing back to her son. It left Dom to watch and wait and picture all the ways he could slaughter those who hurt what was his. Wait... Fuck.

Of course he didn't plan on leaving Kells alone, he couldn't seem to make himself. Something about the man drew him in and kept him there. Like a moth to a flame. Maybe he just needed to try a little more than stalking- Tom kept telling him words were good. Watching the omega he knew it wasn't conversation he wanted to share but he'd do anything to stay close. Even put off his own bubbling needs.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone else wants tagged let me know 🖤

So this chapter was intense but I tried to keep some of it light. These boys have been through hell but they can help each other. Hopefully they'll start getting closer in the next chapter but I hope you enjoyed a little more Tom and Collette time! Also mob boss Kells moments are fun. I hope you liked it 💣🖤

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