#I did imply this way back on basically the second day of answering asks on this blog

[ask-thearchivists]

Hey space things? Is you all the gay?

The Cartographer: What does "gay" mean?

The Coordinator: Archaically, it means "happy" but in this context I believe they are using it to denote sexual orientation. Which means the answer to this is no. The concept of sexuality has some affiliation with gender, both of which lack solid definitions when you try to be more specific as to which since it varies in the minds of the people who experience it from person to person. Our relation between our sense of attraction and gender is entirely disconnected because we do not actually have gender as you mortals perceive it. It is all aesthetic for us, even preferred means of address. Though if you refer to us incorrectly on purpose I will happily allow you to be vivisected.

The Charmer: There is a concept some more advanced species have thought of, called "omnisexual" which has implications of finding any gender that might exist potentially attractive, hence the prefix "omni", even if this is not necessarily how mortals use it. This is closer to us.

The Curator: We're all gay for everyone.

#ask blog #ask the archivists #asks are open #toh the archivists #the owl house #toh #toh oc #the archivists #id in alt text #*cracks open enormous tome labeled “sexuality gender and sex headcanons and lore”* #I didn't even get into my hc that they're sexless and how that plays into their lack of gender as we understand it #I did imply this way back on basically the second day of answering asks on this blog #But I might as well have them say it outright #I'm some kind of ace lesbian and I think it's more interesting to make aliens anything but ace #even if it might make sense on the surface #because you can really come up with fun ways to explain alternatives

[bunny-yan]

Hello!! Thanks for sharing your writing with us! I'm a fan of your Hero/Reincarnated Reader story! :D Personally, I find it very cathartic lol

I've read the manga you based your story on a long time ago (tbh they did not give justice to the previous reincarnations AT ALL in my opinion), but do you have plans to expand on why Hero left Reader for each reincarnation in your story? Is there something deeper at play here (on Hero's side or even Reader's side because I think feelings of love or even basic affection would dissipate after the second reincarnation) or is it simply he wanted to play around with others and string along Reader each time? Do you think there will be another love interest that will show up in this current life?

If escape doesn't work, how would Hero react if Reader took their own life instead? And if Reader is successful, would they be "cursed" in the next life to be Hero's childhood friend? lolol

I know it's not possible, but I think it'd be beautiful karma for Reader to fall in love and marry someone else because I feel like that would really kill Hero lol

Sorry for the question spam, but thank you again for your stories and I hope to see more adventures of Hero/Reader! :D

(Btw, how will King fit into all this or was the King/Reader/Hero story a one-off?)

So I do plan on expanding on Tasman's reasoning for leaving Reader behind and you're pretty close to his reasoning, but I thought I'd expand on how the darling would commit suicide in this particular ask. I think it would also be pretty interesting to watch Tasman suffer and be forced to watch his darling find happiness with someone else so def saving that for a future draft!

The Sharing is Caring Series are one-off stories that include two+ yans, but if you're interested in seeing that sort of dynamic I am more than willing to write for it! Hopefully this answered your question <3

TW:Mentions Death, Depictions of Violence, Implied Violence, Suicide, Language, Infantilization, Minors DNI

—

It began slowly. 

If you moved too quickly he would notice because he caught anything and everything. Watching you was a hobby of his and when you weren’t allowed to leave his sight, it was no surprise that he got good at it. 

You didn’t come on too strong. 

It was hard to imagine he’d have anything other than suspicion if you put on a lovey dovey act, throwing yourself into his arms and professing your love when you couldn’t stand the sight of him the week before. Couldn’t stand his words whether they called you selfish or repeated his desperate love. Couldn’t stand his hands as they grabbed at you, forcing you to comply while convincing himself that this was what you also wanted, you were just too blind to see it. Too angry. 

The goddess knew what she was doing, tying your souls together and to fight a fate as destined as the two of yours? 

It was foolish. 

So you played the fool. 

You let him think that you were slowly coming around to his way of thinking. 

You couldn’t forget the look on his face when you actually apologized in the middle of a heated argument. He was yelling about the distance you were creating between the two of you, telling you that you weren’t letting your love and relationship grow if you were going to continue to treat him like a monster and you snapped an apology in his face. 

It wasn’t sweet and demure, it didn’t even hold an ounce of regret, but it was an apology nonetheless and the last words he expected to come out of your mouth. 

You crossed your arms, looking away from him and when it took him a moment to regain himself, telling you that he was grateful that you were finally seeing reason, you held back the vicious words you wanted to hurl into his face. 

Oh, you loved when his face would twist in outrage or hurt or better yet a mix of the two. 

It meant nothing good for you or for your body the next day leading to the week after but sometimes you couldn’t ignore the momentary satisfaction of letting him know just how you felt. 

But you would endure. You would wait and bide your time for the one thing you’d wanted to do since you’d memorized the number of cracks in each of the four walls, restarting your count whenever he blew his top, taking his anger out on them instead of you. 

Tasman was smart. He was suspicious when the two of you began to argue less, a questioning look piercing your body. 

You didn’t yell until you lost your voice, you didn’t give him the silent treatment, or call him an awful monster, no. 

He was right. 

Yes, you were being selfish for refusing the gift that was his presence.

You were inconsiderate for not thanking him for stealing you away from your life, ruining any chance you had at peace and true happiness. 

He was so right when he told you that he knew what was best for the two of you and that when you denied it, you didn’t really know what you were saying. You were just confused. 

Selfish, inconsiderate, confused. Keeping up the facade was harder than you thought it’d be. 

Whenever he came to you, upset about something you did or some affection you didn’t give, you just mumbled out an apology, going back to doing whatever it was you were doing. 

Tasman felt complex. He didn’t understand why one moment he couldn’t get through to you and the next you understood what he’d been trying to get across so desperately for months. When he finally asked, you told him that you were tired of arguing. You were tired of not being happy. That maybe you had overreacted when he came back. That despite him not being able to get it right for the first eight lives the two of you spent together it would only hurt the two of you further if you continued to bring up the past. You wanted to move on, to start anew. To give the two of you a chance. 

You couldn’t explain the look on his face. 

It was hopeful. It was… something you might have fallen for had you not already come so far. 

It took some time getting used to your willing affection. 

He’d stiffen when you’d lean against him when the two of you were riding a horse to your next destination, not twisting in uncomfortable ways to avoid him. You accepted the meals he brought to you, going so far to make him tea when he seemed stressed. You didn’t stray too far away from the camp and when you did you didn’t throw a tantrum, telling him that he needed to give you space or that he was suffocating you. His hands were hesitant when they touched you but his desire quickly made him comfortable. You no longer sneered or pulled away, you would rest in his arms when he held you. Something he could only dream about the last few months. But his dream were becoming a reality. 

A part of him was suspicious, afraid that this was too good to be true that your behavior was a front to attempt another plan of escape but the other part of him, the hopeful part of him wanted to believe.

You wanted to be with him. You wanted to be happy with him. 

Lost in thought, he smiled when you came over, serving him your usual herbal tea. You said it was meant to relax him, and he’d definitely felt as if he was on cloud nine. Maybe being able to pull you into his lap as he did, was apart of his feeling of floating on air but he didn’t think about it too deeply. 

“Lover?” he began, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You hummed, your usual response whenever he required your attention. 

What was he going to say? 

He felt like this was good to be true. He felt as if this was all a ruse and that you were hiding something deeper, something more sinister. 

Sure he felt off, but maybe he was just second guessing himself. Maybe everything was fine and he just couldn’t imagine happiness for himself. Maybe it had been so long that it seemed impossible but the two of you had nothing if not hope. Hope that you could finally get it right this time. Hope that you could understand a fraction of the feelings he has for you, even if you couldn’t return them… right now. 

“It’s nothing.” he said after a long pause, heaving out a sigh. “Just promise me something?”

Humming again, he gripped you tighter before saying, “Promise me that we’ll always be together like this.”

There was a short pause, he felt a small inkling of fear that grew insurmountably in the time it took for you to respond, but he let out a breath of relief that didn’t quite ease his worries when you finally said, 

“I promise.”

~*~

Tasman woke up and immediately knew that something was wrong. 

He’d been tired but he’d never felt anything like this. His body was heavy like lead, each muscle refusing to move and his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. It took all the strength in his body to blink and when his vision finally cleared he saw shadows dancing across the ceiling. 

His hearing might have been the one sense that hadn’t been impeded because he could hear the familiar song you used to sing when the two of you were younger. It’d been so long since the last time he’d heard it. 

It took a considerable amount of strength to turn his head and when he saw you, sitting in your familiar corner on the windowsill he felt his heart ache to call out to you, but it was difficult to swallow, to speak. 

You stopped humming when you heard his breathing turn ragged. 

Turning around, he didn’t like the unconcerned look in your eyes as you watched him. 

“You’re awake?”

“What… what did you do to me?”

Your expression didn’t change, glancing back towards the window as you pulled your legs closer. 

“I was worried that I’d get caught. I knew you were suspicious, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.”

“What did you do?” he asked, voice lacking his usual seething tone due to whatever you had done. He’d been too close to you for you to make deals with any dark mages. The time and effort it took would be too long, too strenuous and too obvious. 

This couldn’t be magic.

“Did you know the goddess created an entirely new system for your body?” you asked, voice curious as you rested your head on your knees. “It should’ve been obvious. Your body is impervious to the heat, cold, wind, sand, or snow, and most physical and magical attacks do nothing to hurt you.”

You frowned, “It’s unfair. It’s no wonder the demon king never defeated you in any of our past lives.”

Tasman’s breath was ragged. He didn’t want to know. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Answer me.”

Looking at him, he was unnerved with how unbothered you were. “I tested it out. How much poison I could feed you without you noticing before it started having an effect but it never worked. But of course I should’ve figured that lethal doses in regular people would do nothing to you.”

You laughed, humorless and dry as you shook your head. “Do you know the trouble I went to to make sure you wouldn’t pick up on it? And you were too eager at the opportunity of a relationship that you let me do it.” 

“You-You can’t hurt me. Whatever you did I’ll-”

You shook your head, almost disgusted. 

“Tasman, this was never about hurting you.” 

He watched as your feet slid down the windowsill, light illuminating the edges of your body. You took slow, measured steps as you spoke, a whisper of a smile on your face. 

“I prayed to the goddess that you wouldn’t feel it. That there was a chance, that for once in one of my lives I’d get what I wanted.” You felt yourself get emotional as you recalled everything you’d been through. “I waited for you. I wanted you to love me and I couldn’t have it. I wanted a new life and I couldn’t have it. I’ve tried everything, Tasman and you know what I've noticed. You were the reason for every misstep.” 

He tried shaking his head, tried telling you what he really meant what you meant to him. 

“I’m trying, I’ll try just please-”

You shook your head, the humorless laugh almost floating from your body. 

“It doesn’t matter. Do you really think that if you were willing to make things work it wouldn’t have happened by now? In any of our lives? It’s the goddess’s desire that we remain together and yet we can never make it work. You wouldn’t listen to me no matter how much I cried, screamed, protested that this wasn’t right. That you were hurting me.”

His throat was tight with emotion, pleading almost begging in the raspy tone of his. 

“Please, I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what was triggering his senses that something was wrong. It could’ve been whatever you had drugged him with but he had an ominous premonition. 

“You aren’t. If you were, we wouldn't be here right now and I wouldn’t have had to repeat myself so many times.” 

Shaking your head, he finally noticed the glint against the silver metal, watching as it raced before you put the hilt of the blade against your head. 

“You don’t listen. You don’t care what I have to say. I throw tantrums as far as you’re concerned. And the minute I leave you drag me back and treat me like a petulant child, scolding me for leaving your side.” 

You didn’t know if you were talking to yourself or if this was for him but you couldn’t stop. 

“When I want you, you want nothing to do with me and when I want nothing to do with you, I can’t get two seconds without you breathing down my neck.”

“What-”

“I want nothing to do with you and yet I have to force myself to tolerate your existence, tolerate you touching me, choke on the words you force down my throat just for the chance that you’d leave me alone long enough to find the right herb. Just long enough to not notice what I mixed in your drinks.”

His froze in realization. How long had you planned this?

“And it finally worked.” You smiled, coming near the bedside and crouching in front of him. You could see the anger in his eyes up close without fear that he’d lash out at you. 

“How could you do this to me?” 

You gave him a mock pout, cocking your head to the side. “Poor Tasman. It must’ve been so rough getting everything you ever wanted. Everyone’s love and affection, the power of the world at your fingertips, even my love!” For the first time you got angry. “You had my fucking love in your hands and you crushed it. You treated me as if I didn’t matter to you. And I guess at the end of the day, I don’t.” A harsh laugh escaped from your lips as you narrowed your eyes on him. “I’m no hero. There aren’t millions of people who are relying on me to defeat the big bad demon king. There wouldn't be riots in the street if I up and disappeared and there won’t be, because it isn’t the case for you. You won’t disappear. You’ll just keep coming up with new ways to make sure I’ll never be able to escape from you and they won’t bat an eye. Because you matter to people. You matter. Even if you’d abandon them the next day for your own selfish greed.”

“What are you going to do with that?” he asked, understanding his meaning when his eyes looked at the blade in your hand. 

You sneered, narrowing your eyes as you said, “Don’t worry. This isn’t for you.” 

It didn’t take him long to figure out what you meant. 

“Don’t. This is stupid. We’ll just start over and I’ll know. Let’s just work this out and we can-”

Standing, you brushed off your clothes, the gesture nervous as you looked down at the sharp blade. 

“It was never about you.” you said quietly. You gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

He was getting desperate. He couldn’t threaten you, he couldn’t beg or plead or say anything to convince you against this. 

“You promised.”

There was a pause and for a moment he felt that maybe you’d reconsider. That you’d realize that your behavior was hysterical and that you take a moment to calm down. 

“I did and I’ll keep my promise.”

Looking at him, you shook your head. 

“You said it yourself. We’ll just start over.”

The slow realization in his eyes was enough. 

“I want you to live with what you did to me. I want you to know that I'll never let you hurt me again.”

It happened before he could say anything. 

Your movements were sharp and jerky, stumbling after plunging the blade into your throat. 

He felt his soul cry out, begging his body to move, pleading to the goddess that he’d give anything, sacrifice anything if he could just get to you in this moment. He could heal you if you would just come a little closer, but you staggered against the windowsill, moving farther away, staring at him as you began to choke on your blood. 

He watched you suffer, watched your body twitch and fight against the pain, and watched as you finally went still. Leaning against the side of the windowsill, still staring at him. 

Tasman couldn’t move. 

His body wouldn’t listen to him. He felt tears slide down the side of his face as he choked on a strangled cry. 

He couldn’t move. 

He felt the overwhelming, aching desire to cradle you in his arms. To hold you close. To wipe the blood away from your face. To shut your accusing eyes but he couldn’t move. 

Whatever you had given him kept him in a docile state. Kept him still and feeling too guilty to look away from your eyes. Your soulless eyes. He could tell. He felt as if something was missing from his own as he continued to stare into the eyes missing life, the eyes he’d watch fade quickly. 

Too quickly. 

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yan!tasman #yandere hero #hero yandere

[haikyu-mp4]

I’d say it’s destiny

word count; 1605 – f!reader, implied age gap

Osamu and Atsumu weren’t completely identical, as some might know. Most notably, they decided to dye their hair differently in high school and it made the contrast of their eye colours stand out more.

However, one scenario it always worked for was substitute teachers. Osamu really didn’t mind stepping in for Atsumu today, because it meant he owed him later, but he totally forgot he was stepping in at all when he saw you.

Fresh out of university and first-time substitute teacher.

And you were crazy good-looking.

So when you were taking attendance and asked for Miya Atsumu, it went something like this…

“Here!”

“Hello, Miya,” you said, just like you did with all the other students because some teacher you once had said it made the pupils feel seen. Perhaps they weren’t considering high school students though.

“Call me Osamu,” he said with that trademark smirk he borrowed from his twin as if he was acting his part despite saying the complete opposite.

“…Atsumu?” you read off the paper, with no intention of using his given name but still curious about the name change. Suna already had his phone out in his lap, camera peeping just over the edge of his desk to film this.

“No, that’s my stupid brother.”

“So why are you… here then?”

Osamu slowly deflated, not looking as confident as he did a few seconds ago. Right, he’s not actually in this class. “I’d say it’s destiny?”

You blinked for a moment. This was not what you expected on your first day, and you weren’t quite sure what to do. Do you send him to the principal’s office? At least he’s getting an extra lesson, his apparent twin is the one who missed his. “Come to my desk after class, Miya,” you said strictly before moving on to the rest of the list, not missing the way some brunette kid snorted in the corner as Osamu agreed like you asked him out for dinner.

“You wanted to see me?” Osamu said, a cocky smirk back on his face and bag slung over his shoulder. You frowned, trying your best not to find it funny.

“Not like that, but you know it’s not okay to attend in someone else’s place?” you started, still not decided on how to lecture him properly. Fortunately, you had the number of another teacher that gave you some help.

He sat down on the chair on the other side of your desk. “I’m sorry my brother gave you trouble. What did you say your name was?” he asked, earning another squinted glare from you.

You ignored the comment and question, sighing and looking at the post-it note stuck to your schedule, scribbled with a name. “I was told I should talk to Kita Shinsuke about this, so unless you have something better to say, I think we should move along to find him and your brother.”

Osamu felt like the colour might have drained from his face, thinking of facing both his idiot brother’s complaints and Kita’s cold lecture at the same time. “Oh, uhh…”

You gave him a small smile, standing up already. “They should all be in the gym, right? Please show me the way there, I still get lost.”

Osamu would be damned if you kept smiling at him like that, making him stand right up with a sigh and hold the door open for you before leading you there. “Right this way, my lady.” At least he got to ask you about your favourite foods and other basic stuff that you didn’t mind answering on the way there.

Once again, he opened the door for you when you got to the gym, eyes quickly scanning around to see Suna already showing Atsumu the video. “Kita Shinsuke?” you asked loudly, looking around until you made eye contact with someone who seemed to respond to that name. The grey-haired boy came over, calmly asking you how he could help you while Osamu avoided eye contact but still didn’t want to leave your side. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, but another teacher told me you’re familiar with the problem. I had this Miya in my class while it should have been the other one,” you informed him, almost letting their given names slip off your tongue. Osamu was tuned into your voice, but it was difficult to ignore the agitating voice of his brother, which he heard in the background.

Kita nodded with a confirming sound, dark in his throat as he glared to the side at Osamu. “My apologies, I will make sure they receive the proper consequences,” he said and bowed to you.

Osamu looked at you with a sheepish smile. “Thank you for following me here, I’ll see you around?” he asked, using his possibly last moment alive to look at you one more time with every ounce of charm he had left.

You huffed a small laugh, nodding and turning around to find your way back. “Sure, have fun at practice, Miya.”

Kita and Atsumu were both angry, but who cares?

Osamu Miya was in love.

You saw Osamu around a couple more times while substituting for other teachers, even stepping in for the volleyball coach once. Now that, was something.

“What’d ya think, coach?” Osamu asked you, quite frankly looking like a puppy after spiking and turning to you. You sighed, once again trying to act indifferent and ignore him while also treating him like any other student.

“That was great!” you said with some enthusiasm, also leaning a bit to the side to look at his twin. “And a great set as well!” So now you had two flustered Miya twins.

“Let’s try the soul swap, ‘Samu!” Atsumu roared with newfound vigour, and you could see Kita about to protest.

“Here we go, I should film this,” Suna snickered from somewhere beside you, and you couldn’t help but agree.

After a year, you were offered a permanent position at another school in the prefecture, meaning you didn’t really see any students from Inarizaki again. You had almost forgotten them by the time you walked past a sign that said Onigiri Miya after going to an interview for a higher position in another school.

You tilted your head, squinting at the sign as you tried to remember where you heard that before, and then you looked down and through the window. Jaw slack, you were looking at a much more grown version of your biggest fan, Miya Osamu.

Walking in, you were overwhelmed with the delicious smell, your chest filling with air as you took in a long breath. Then you walked over to the short line, standing behind a rather burly man, meaning Osamu probably hadn’t seen you yet. You got a bit nervous, almost wondering if he would actually remember you or not.

Finally, the line moved along and you were face to face with a mouth-watering man. Mouth-watering food! He was even taller than in high school, shoulders broader and body a bit beefier from choosing this line of work but probably still maintaining some workouts.

You had to shake your head a bit when you realised you were just staring, plastering on a smile and then realising he was staring too, looking pleasantly surprised. Perhaps it was inappropriate to suddenly be interested in him, but while an awkward age difference stopped you from looking at him like this before, he was now an adult and you suddenly saw him in a new light.

“Hi!” he said cheerfully before huffing when he accidentally knocked over a cup of pens, scrambling to pick them all up again and shuffle them back into the cup. He glanced up at you with that familiar sheepish smile. “What can I get you today, teach?” he asked, applying the nickname to further emphasise that he remembered you.

You could feel your ears turning red as you pursed your lips, and you were about as beautiful as he remembered. “I’d like two tuna mayo onigiris, please,” you requested, pulling your card out to pay while he was watching your every move. He was glad he already had a lot of food prepared at this time of day so he wouldn’t have to leave this station to make them for you.

“I thought you liked salmon, want to try one on the house?” he asked, somehow remembering your conversations back in high school. You were shocked for a moment before nodding.

“If you insist.”

He smirked, and it was so familiar yet the feeling it gave you was so new and exciting. “I sure do,” he confirmed and then put one on a plate to hand it over. No one had come in after you yet, luckily. “I haven’t seen ya in a long time, do ya live close by?” he asked hopefully, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I’m out on a job interview actually,” you said, taking a bite of the onigiri and sighing with appreciation at how delicious it was. Truly made with love. “So who knows, maybe I’ll be around here more.”

“Then you’re more than welcome to stop by again.”

You smiled at him, and it was warmer than the ones he had received from you before. “I’d love that. It’s a bit far from where I live, though.” Your voice drifted off, unsure if you were oversharing because you were nervous.

“Oh? How did ya end up applying for a job here, then?” he asked, moving around to grab some fresh onigiri in a box for you and taking an extra breath to calm his heartbeat.

“I’d say it’s destiny.”

masterlist

#haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq #fanfiction #haikyuu x you #haikyu fluff #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki #atsumu #miya atsumu #osamu miya #osamu

[lovelyiida]

making mha guys jealous~

INLCUDES: BAKUGO KATSUKI, TENYA IIDA, SHOTO TODOROKI

WARNINGS: implied gender neutral reader, sexual themes, vulgar language, sexual language

MASTERLIST

WORDS: 2.9K

BAKUGO KATSUKI

just for one single day he’d let it slide, he thought.

One fucking day.

It was currently a calm Sunday afternoon at the UA dorms, everyone at peace as they settled themselves for another long week of rigorous training and classes.

and here you fucking are, sitting next to Midoriya on the couch laughing at whatever he was showing you on his phone.

Bakugo knows that you know he despises the fucker, so why are you basically insulting him to his face at the moment?

Bakugo grumbles as he stares down at the text you sent to him nearly 30 minutes ago, "on my way up babe” he reads.

a damn liar you were

you and him were supposed to watch a move earlier before curfew hit, checking the clock he grows hotter by the second.

almost 3 hours before the 8PM curfew, that may be a lot of time to some. but on this glorious sunday, the day was gone before it even started.

your boyfriend watched as you giggled with your friend, knees huddled into your chest as your face shined bright with a smile.

why were you smiling so hard?

only he gets to see you smile that way.

and here goes this fuckwad.

round, sprinkle faced, curly-topped bastard.

Bakugo couldn't stand the looks of Midoriya sometimes, he just looked so punchable. he can't believe that he has the audacity to take you from him, knowing that the both of you were gong to be doing something at this exact time.

he may seem like this ball of sunshine to you, but he sees his true intentions.

watching the both of you even harder, he noticed how he was showing you pictures of something, eye lids pulling close together as he tries to make out the images on the phone and the words you were saying at the same time.

As midoriya scoots closer towards you. Bakugo feels a pang in his chest, it almost felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. bodies bumping into each other as his head accidentally bumps yours.

Today he thought he was gonna let it slide, he really did think that.

pulling away from each other, the both of you laugh, and thats when he saw it…

Midoriya was blushing.

"oh, piss off!" Bakugo darkly grumbled, hastily marching over to the both of you. he got madder with each step, fists growing hot and smoke fuming out.

as the both of you continued to laugh, you feel a heavy dip in the couch. you also see your friends expression, a laid back happy smile to quiver-lipped state of fear.

before you could ask whats wrong, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and pull you in tight.

"so this is what you've been doing, conspiring with the enemy?" Bakugos deep voice mumbled into your ear, making you jump. "w-what?" you stuttered.

"you texted me almost—40 minutes ago, that you're on your way, what the fuck?" Bakugo whined. you rolled your eyes, "bakugo, I was coming until I saw Midoriya! I haven't spoken to him in a while and decided to catch up."

looking over to the man of the hour himself, he lets out a shaky nod. "yeah! w-we were talking I was just showing them some pictures and–"

"what pictures?" Bakugo looks at you for an answer.

"nothing really!" Midoriya barks, earning a scowl from Bakugo.

"I wasn't fuckin' talkin' to you dumbass!" he yelled.

"now like I asked you, what pictures?" he says, his voice scarily calm.

"they were...pictures of you and Midoriya when you were kids," you admitted, Bakugos eyes widen as his face becomes warm.

"dude, what the fuck!" his free hand fling towards his face, poorly hiding his embarrassment. "I know, I'm sorry Kachaan! but your mom found them, and then she sent them to my mom…and she sent them to me!" he explained to the blonde.

"I don't give a fuck how you got them! just delete 'em!" He rubs his brows with his free hand to try and cope with the embarrassment. Finally having enough of this torment, he pulls you off the couch with ease and hurried to to the elevator.

stepping in, he lets out a breath.

"and stop fucking calling me that!" Bakugo yells, the vision of the green haired boy nodding in fear was the last thing you saw as the doors slide shut.

You sit in the elevator awkwardly as the sounds of the the elevator moving from floor to floor fill the void.

after a long moment of awkward silence in the elevator, you both finally make it to his dorm. Shutting the door, you plop on the bed, a smug smile not fading for a second.

You watch the blonde roam around his room, cutting on the tv and picking some random action movie he wanted the both of you to watch that you’ll most likely fall asleep to. Hearing him curse to himself as he trips on his shoes on his way to turn off the lights.

Crawling into the bed, you make room for Bakugo to lay in. Bakugo crawls in and throws the blankets over you and pulls you in tight.

As the movie begins to play, you couldn’t help but you let out a chuckle, “what now?” He groans. Smiling you look at him with hooded eyes, "you're so cute when you're jealous,~" you purr.

"i wasn't jealous!" he protested, making you luagh.

Bakugo pulls you in closer into his chest, which you kindly melt into. Burring your face into his chest, you let out a sigh.

"Midoriya misses you, y'know that?", you mumbled into his broad chest. The faint smell of sweet smoke fills your nostrils.

"I don't care" he spits.

You scoff at his reply, lightly hitting him on the chest. "oh come on! just for one day, hang out with the poor guy. you're always hanging out with me!" you complained, pushing his shoulder with your fist. Bakugo lets out a light chuckle, a smile barely present shown on his lips, nuzzling into your neck, he sighs.

"you're different."

TENYA IIDA

“Hey honey, are you ready for our study session?” Iida smiles brightly towards you, chest broad and stature straight.

You're currently outside the UA dorms, sitting out on the bench enjoying the sunlight after a week of rain with your favorite book.

“Oh baby, I promised I would study with you didn’t I?” You frowned at him. Interested to hear your response, Iida tilts his head. “I don’t understand,” he says.

Closing the book you were holding, you straightened your back. “Well…I forgot to let you know that I’ll be studying with someone else this weekend, please don’t be upset!” You pleaded.

Iida softly smiled at you, “I could never be upset at you, as long as you’re still learning I don’t care who it’s with.” His strong hand reached for your face, causing you to melt into iida as he caresses your face.

And it was true, as long as you stayed successful in classes. Studying with someone else is the least of his problems.

He looked into your eyes, your deep loving eyes. The both of you chuckle at the display of affection.

That was until he heard the door open. Sharply pulling away from your face he automatically shot his hand straight into the air.

Even though the both of you are in a relationship, the both of you tried to make it seem you weren’t together. In other words, intimate moments like these are only shown in private.

“Are you ready to leave?" a calm voice asks.

“Todoroki!” You jump up with a smile. Grabbing your book bag, you throw it over your shoulder and walk towards him.

Iida didn’t care who you were studying with…

Until he found out it was Todoroki.

Recently, Iida has been seeing him eye you more than the rest. It didn’t bother him until this moment. He also overheard a particular conversation the other day as well.

“Dude, if you had to pick one girl from 1-A to marry, who would you choose?” Kirishima asked.

Currently in the locker room, changing out of their hero suits. Iida was tying his shoe laces, not really interested in the conversation.

“I’m not sure,” Todoroki said.

“Okay, who was the first person that came to mind?” Kirishima says, his sharp toothy grin beaming bright from ear to ear.

“Um…y/n”

Iida perks up at this, not turning towards them. He simply stands straight up and walks out.

Today, Iida stares at Todoroki, his lips slightly twitch as he sees him chivalrously grab your book bag. Watching the both of you leave he cursed under his breath.

“Shit.”

There’s no way Todoroki has a thing for you right?

It’s simply not possible, even though no one really knows that the both of you are together, it should be a given.

He hoped today would be the only time it would happen. However, later in the weekend, he realized that both of you got to know each other way more intensely than he thought.

When he’d wake up and go to the kitchen, he'd see both of you sitting down next to each other, eating breakfast, talking about whatever happened the day before. talking about likes and dislikes, the two of you even had secret inside jokes that no one else knew of.

It irritated him, knowing that the special bond that he had with you was slowly deteriorating over the span of the weekend.

It hurts Iida that you spent almost your whole weekend with Todoroki.

Holding on tight to the short moments that the both of you would have, whether it be sitting down on the couch talking, or in his room cuddling.

Either you'd see Todoroki or he'd send you a text (he didn’t even know that he had your number). If it was true that you were going out with him, you would quickly apologize by kissing him on the cheek and saying your goodbyes.

and that’s what happened over and over and over again.

It was safe to say that he missed you dearly, even though you don’t really take you out on dates too often. he considers the study time the both of you have as a date. Even though there are no roses or chocolates or fancy dinners, he loves the time he spends with you.

He doesn’t want it to be taken by someone else.

That following Monday, the two of you were currently in the lunchroom. Iida didn’t sit next to you, but he was close enough to where he was able to see you within eyesight. Everything was fine until he saw Todoroki with lunch tray in hand, sitting next to you and began to converse with you.

He watched how you giggled at his words, whatever the both you were talking about. It must have been very funny. He's never even seen you laugh that hard at his jokes. Swallowing his food, he let out a deep sigh.

Staring the both of you down, he noticed that Todoroki had a light pink blush on his cheeks in a soft, faint smile that only his eyes caught.

You were so busy laughing you didn’t even notice that your knees were pressed up against each other. Throwing your head back in laughter, a thick strand of hair cascades over your face.

Don’t do it he thought don’t even try it

Todoroki reached out towards your face and softly tucked your hair back behind your ear. Eyes widening, you shyly thank him with a bow.

Iida didn’t even realize that his feet were moving by the time he got close to you. Grabbing your arm with such force it shocked you, as you were dragged out of the lunch room. It even shocked him that he was doing this.

Taking you to a classroom that is empty, he shuts the door.

"Honey, what's wrong?" you asked, slightly shaken up by Iida’s performance. “I don’t want you to hang around him anymore. He obviously has feelings for you.” he spit, his tone was sharp as you could tell that he was angry.

Your eyes widen for a moment until you frown, “is that what this is about? I assure you, Todoroki has no feelings for me.”

Your arms crossed against your chest as you huff out of breath. Iida scoffs at your words. "You may not see it, but I do! I know for a fact that he has feelings for you. He even said it in the locker room the other day!” he exclaims.

You let out a light gasp at his words. After a brief moment of silence, you giggle.

this makes him frown even deeper. “I don’t understand what you’re laughing about," he says.

You laugh, "I can't believe you're jealous right now," you say. Iida gross hot at your words.

“I mean, I have every right to be, don’t I? Todoroki has taken you away from me and it seems like you don’t even notice!” he exclaims.

Playfully poking your lip out, you walk towards Iida, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you pull him into your embrace.

“y'know all of this could’ve been avoided if you just let everyone know that we’re in a relationship.”

He blushed as you spoke softly to him.

“And what happens if I do? What if you get made fun of because of me? Because they find out you’re dating such a loser…” His words trail off as you can tell that he’s visibly upset.

Your brows furrowed after hearing his words.

“you? A loser? Iida, you are the president of class 1-A at UA high school. I’m basically dating the top student in the entire school! You are definitely no loser in my book” you reassured him.

A soft smile appears on his lips as his hands slide around your waist. “you mean that?” he says.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it” you mumbled.

Pulling in close to you, your lips press against each other softly. You breathe into the kiss, your hand racing from his shoulders to the back of his neck as you push him in for a deeper kiss.

Before this steamy make-out session could go further, you hear the door slam open. Gasping, you pull yourself away from your boyfriend.

“Todoroki!”

SHOTO TODOROKI

Todoroki doesn't see himself as a jealous type. He has no reason to be jealous not to make him sound cocky, but he has a good personality. He knows he has good looks and he's just a good person. What more could a person want?

You always thought the opposite about yourself, you never really understood why Todoroki chose you out of all the other people that desperately wanted him, but you never saw how Todoroki saw you.

You are a kind, caring, witty, and so funny a lot of people would die for a person like you, but you never saw that.

Or at least you never noticed, until today.

Today in class one a you were all sparring and training your quirks to the maximum ability. Todoroki stares at you from across the classroom. She noticed you were talking to someone in particular Denki Kaminari.

And bright yellow hair, a lean muscular build, a pretty face with a golden eyes, he's known to meet people on the school as a very attractive guy, and also a known heartbreaker.

He's no good, Todoroki thought.

He stares at the both of you, he noticed the way dinky I do his bright eyes gliding over, figure ever so carefully so that he wouldn't catch you because it be caught.

Denki knew you were already in a relationship with him with Todoroki, of course. But he could really care less. He still wanted to shoot his shot and maybe give you a little test of loyalty.

"Hey, is that skirt new? It looks Hella good on you." Denki says, sly smirk plastered on his lips as he spoke to you with ease. He noticed the way you blushed his comment you awkwardly laugh it off.

"no, this is the same skirt I've been wearing since the beginning of the school year. Thanks for the compliment, though." you give him a slight bow, somewhat thankful for his compliment.

"y'know, somehow I think it would look better if it was a tad bit, shorter...or maybe even off, your legs are so pretty! I wonder how they look thrown over my shoulders" Denki purrs, letting out a dark chuckles at his own words. he fawns over the way you tightly grip your skirt with your balled fists.

"you can't talk to me that way Denki! you know that Todoroki is my boyfriend. What if he hears you?" you whispered. Denki rolls his eyes at your words. leaning into your ear, he whispers.

"and if he did? what would you do princess?" Denki whispers, earning a shiver down your spine. pulling away, he notices Todoroki's sharp colorful eyes looking straight towards him.

Denki smiles brightly and even waves at him, he watched Todoroki smack his lips at his fake act. He chuckles at this, watching Todoroki stomp his way sighs.

reaching for a strand of you hair, he sighs as it slips from his fingers. "playtimes' over, gotta go beautiful!" Denki chuckles. Walking away before Todoroki could get to him.

Soon you felt a tight embrace on your back, "Todoroki!" turning towards him, you hug him tightly.

"what did he say to you?" his voice deep and filled with anger.

"nothing different, casual Denki being a pervert" you laugh, Todoroki only holds you tighter.

Todoroki isn't a jealous person.

But this time, he was.

hey guys!! almost at 200 followers, thanks sm guys!

— lovelyiida ❤︎︎

#mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha insert #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha todoroki #mha iida #iida x you #iida x reader #todorki x reader #todoroki x you #bnha headcanons #mha fluff #bnha iida #bnha todoroki #bakugo x reader #lovelyiida #bakugo headcanons #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

what about Aaron forgetting his gf’s birthday but his team has all remembered and put something together because they adore her and he just feels dreadful so of course he has to make it up to you in 100 different ways

It's Your Birthday?

Warnings: Slight angst? (Aaron is basically feeling guilty), fluff, ever so slightly suggestive but nothing is nsfw.

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

A/n: Aw :( Aaron would feel so so bad if he forgot your birthday. I don't know if I like the way it turned out :,) but I did my best and I hope you like it! Also if anyone wants to be added to my forever tags just let me know :)

Tags: @hotchnerbau (babes idk if you wanted to be tagged I literally forget who I mention these to so if someone wanted to be tagged and wasn't, I apologise)

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat

Aaron felt like he was missing something. Like there was something happening today that he was either unaware of entirely, or that he'd forgotten something. And he has no idea what it could be.

All day people had smiled at him, just members of the team. But a couple of them mentioned to him that "you must have something really special planned tonight" and JJ specifically said "If you want me to take Jack for the night I'd love to! My boys have been asking for another sleepover with him anyway." Anyway. Anyway? Something was implied and he wasn't sure what. It seemed so out of the blue.

Throughout the day Aaron forgets about how off he feels. He's shut in his office and after a number of hours there's a knock on the office door.

Penelope walks in.

"Sir! Hi! Quick question! What colour does y/n prefer? Does she have a favourite?" His brows furrow as confusion takes over him but he answers Garcia's question and then asks "Why do you ask?" She just grins at him "Oh, sir. You know!" No, he doesn't. But she leaves before he can ask anything else. He ponders momentarily before pushing the thoughts away and going back to his reports.

Another couple hours went by, he had closed the blinds and kept the door shut. But when he hears some sort of commotion outside his office, he quickly stands and opens the door.

He's met with party decorations all over the bullpen and you standing there with a huge smile on your face.

He makes his way down the steps and walks over to you standing with his team members.

"Honey, what are you doing here? What's going on? What is all of this?" The last two questions are directed more towards his team.

You look at him a bit confused as does everyone else. "We're throwing y/n a birthday party, sir! It's her birthday!" Penelope says excitedly but you look at him with a slight frown.

He looks back at you "It's not your-"

Aaron cuts himself off and stands there for a few seconds as he realises that it is, in fact, your birthday. And guilt immediately overtakes him. He feels terrible for forgetting. And the fact that his team remembered when he didn't, made him feel even worse.

"Oh, oh Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I forgot. I didn't...I must have just..." He trails off and looks down. He doesn't want to give you some excuse for his lack of remembering your birthday. "I'm sorry, y/n, really." He looks back up and he expects you to be upset, but he's met with a small smile.

"It's alright, Aaron. Don't worry about it. You know now. It's fine." You step closer and kiss his cheek, a kiss he doesn't feel like he deserves. Then he receives a warm hug from you but you're being pulled away by Garcia seconds later, something about cake and some gifts needing to be opened.

Gifts. Gifts! He didn't have a present for you. There was an empty desk with presents from the team on it and none were from him. He didn't have one at home. This all completely slipped his mind. He's internally scolding himself but he puts on a little smile every time you look at him.

He starts thinking of ways he can make it up to you. Of course, one option would be taking JJ up on her earlier offer and giving you a fun birthday night. But he wants to give you more than that. He's thinking more on the material side of things. Jewelry immediately pops into his head. He has a necklace hidden away for your upcoming anniversary (upcoming as in six months away, ever the planner aside from this one time) but it's meant for that day and there's even a card written with it about the anniversary. Not your birthday. And you already know that he's forgotten now. He can't play it off like he already had the necklace as a birthday gift.

He watches you open all of your presents. One from each member of the team (apart from him) but there are at least five from Penelope. Which doesn't surprise anyone, really.

He's watching your face light up as you see each new item and read each card, all having meaningful words written in them. You weren't on the team. You're a civilian. But the team loves you like family and you're close friends with them all. You see them as much as possible given their work and their lives outside of it.

"Aaron, look!" He smiles as you hold up the book that Reid gifted you. "You'll have to read it to me." You grin as you read the summary on the back of it. In his head he agrees. He'll do anything you want, especially now to make up for his lack of remembering your special day.

After cake and chatting with everyone, you go to Aaron's office when you see he's not out there. Leaving the rest of the team to enjoy the small party.

He's alone and sitting at his desk staring at nothing but he looks up at you when you walk in. "Aaron? What's wrong? If this is about forgetting what today is, it's really not a big deal. You don't need to feel so bad about it, baby. Really." He hates how sweet and forgiving you're being. The fact that you're not even slightly upset about it. That you're so understanding. But he knows he would be just as understanding if it was the other way around and you'd forgotten his.

"No, y/n. It's not okay. I forgot your birthday. I didn't do anything for it, I didn't get you anything, I didn't even remember to wish you a happy birthday this morning before leaving. Everyone except me remembered and even threw a party for you." You know he's eating himself up inside.

Walking around his desk and standing in front of him, you lean back against the wood and sit on the edge of it. Grabbing his hands and looking at him with a stern expression. "Aaron, don't beat yourself up over this. There will be more birthdays. And you don't need to get me anything. I don't care if I get presents or not. I'm fine with not doing anything special for today either way. But you can wish me a happy birthday now." You give him a kiss on the forehead and smile at him which he returns with the best one he can give, still feeling guilty inside.

"Happy birthday, y/n." He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. "But I still want to make it up to you." You think for a moment. "Okay. How about dinner? All I've had was cake because that's all there was here. Jack is with Jessica right now because she picked him up from school but I'm sure he wants to go to JJ and Will's for a sleepover. And you can make it up to me however I see fit." You tell him the last part with a smirk as you grab his tie and pull him to you, making him stand in the process. Slotting himself between your legs as you give him a slow kiss.

"I think that sounds like a good way to start."

#anon #anon request #hotch asks #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fan fic #aaron hotchner fluff #(tags are a pain and i hate doing this lmao) #mon answers 🩷 #mon posts 🩷 #hotch🌜 #(the tags are good enough)

[frankcastlescumslut]

Ch. 2: Hard Times

pairing: frank castle x f!reader / platonic!amy bendix x f!reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: angst, language, hurt/comfort, implied loss of a sister (no details), descriptions of wounds, established relationship yet somehow it’s a slow burn

summary: He somehow reached across space and time to tell you the words you wished you had heard that night: you didn’t do anything wrong. None of this is on you. Frank had become a god, transcending the laws of physics to piece you together with sutures and sympathies.

A/N: I wrote this chapter based off of this song. loosely. sorry this isn’t the happiest of endings, I’m leaving it open ended in case I get the momentum to keep going (there is a potential plot).

[previous chapter]

I love your feedbacks and comments so much, thank you. reblogs help a lot as well <3

The stars looked like pin pricks against a dark sheet, so bright you had to squint to make sense of your surroundings, but there was nothing to make sense of. Just black asphalt laid out like a red carpet.

Your body ached and groaned as you stretched ever so slightly, and Frank pretended not to notice the way you winced when you pulled your shirt from your dried wound. 

He cleared his throat, trying to distract you. “Mornin’.”

“Mornin’,” you yawned, checking the dashboard. 

1:42am. 

The last time you stopped was somewhere in Ohio at a run down 7-Eleven. Amy threatened to jump out of the van if she didn’t get a slurpee, but you couldn’t really blame her, it did sound good, so Frank was outnumbered like he usually was. 

That was hours ago, though, and you found Amy curled against the duffle bags with a ring of blue food dye around her lips.

“How far are we?” You prodded. 

“Few hours.” 

“Oh.”

Frank was a man of few words when he first met you. It took him three days just to ask you for an extra blanket when he met you at that motel in Nebraska, though he chalked it up to his unnatural ability for needing something. Didn’t wanna bother you.

You were patient with him, never pressing him about the occasional bruise or poorly hidden glances, instead choosing to talk about how vending machine chips are basically just bags full of air and how mattress stores are money laundering operations—he laughed at that, fully and with his chest, and it was game over for you both. 

Yet somehow you were sitting within a foot of each other and felt like strangers. 

“Do you want me to drive?” You offered, daring to look at him. He looked worn, his eyes drooping with sleep.

“No,” he answered too quickly. “I’m okay.” 

“Maybe we should stop somewhere?”

He was silent, unwilling to admit defeat. Stoic. Stubborn. A pain in the ass that kept you awake with a fevering bullet shaped gash in your side. 

You would make yourself power through the pain if it meant he would be normal again—if he would even look at you for more than a second and without what you perceived as disdain. You would pretend that each day you had Amy didn’t feel like salt being shoved into your sister-sized wound. You would lie through your teeth and tell him that you were capable of keeping up, that this life was enough for you. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. 

“We’ll stop at the next motel.” He looked over at you, his eyes trailing towards the rust colored stain on your shirt. Your cheeks burned underneath his gaze, and all you could do was nod in reply and watch the constellations blur. 

“Wake up.” A breathy voice tickled your ear, causing you to jolt upright in your seat.

“Damn it!” You cursed before placing a palm against your sternum, ignoring the way the seatbelt burned against your exposed neck.

Amy was pleased by your reaction, carelessly falling back into her designated makeshift seat of a jacket tucked against the back of your chair. Frank didn’t crack a smile. 

“Knock it off,” he warned, his eyes quickly darting towards the backseat. 

“Oh come on,” Amy whined. “It was funny.” 

“I actually disagree,” you chimed in, your heartbeat still racing. 

“You’re no fun.” She pouted, slouching against the hard interior. 

Frank would disagree, though. You were fun. Charismatic. Lighthearted. 

He missed that version; the one where you existed alongside of him with ease, the one where you convinced him that joy existed and was accessible to people like him, to people like the both of you. 

It felt foreign to him, the easiness of it all, but he gave up rejecting his need for self denial when he met you. Because you were fun. 

“We’re stopping soon,” he cleared his throat and those distant memories of you, and you nodded with a “k.” 

“I have to pee,” Amy broke her secret vow of silence, probably just to hear herself speak. 

“Hold it,” you and Frank spoke in unison, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

You often wondered what he was like as a dad. If he was the silent and stern parent, always fussing with light fixtures and the underside of a truck. Maybe the kind that cared a lot about grades but even more about after school sports or school projects. Really, you think, he’s the kind of parent that just enjoys his children’s joy, never getting in the way of what was causing it— a winning soccer match, a new video game, a carousel. It didn’t matter anymore, anyways, and you were too scared to ask him about it. 

So you didn’t, and you don’t. You never do, because you’re not really sure what you would say if he ever asked about your sister. Some things are better to be speculatory, you decided, until Amy came along. 

She acted like a secret maneuver that would draw back the curtain on what Frank Castle was like as a father, and you seldom looked away. 

“Sheesh,” she muttered, and you hid a smirk behind the palm of your hand. 

It was silent for the next few miles, save the occasional clanging of weapons every time the van fell victim to a pothole. It was silent even as Frank drove past the first motel. Then the second one… and the third. 

Amy eventually caught on, sitting on her knees and looking out the window like a dog with its ears flapping in the wind. 

“Where are we going?” she asked. 

Frank was quiet, eyes still straight ahead, even as he pulled into the parking lot of a neon green Holiday Inn. 

“A hotel!” Amy squealed, throwing herself in Frank’s general direction, ignorant to the way the car swerved due to her affections. 

He watched you from above Amy’s head, thankful she was blocking the smirk on his face as your brows furrowed in his direction, silently asking are you sure? 

He was sure. He had made up his mind hundreds of miles ago when he first saw the blood soaked cotton of your shirt, but he wouldn’t dare to tell you. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Amy let out a sigh of relief, loud enough that it was dramatic even for her. 

Frank was silent as he dug around in a back pocket before handing you a thick wad of cash. You failed to meet his eye as you accepted the offering, opting to nod with a tight lipped smile as a thank you. 

“Get the biggest bed you can get!” Amy called out to you before the door swung shut in her face. 

She pulled herself into the passenger seat and sat back with a huff and a genuine smile on her face. Finally, she thought. 

Frank’s eyes were trained on the entrance of the hotel. He watched you pull your jacket across your body, attempting to hide your ghastly appearance, as you leaned against the counter. The woman at the front seemed reasonable, he assumed. You both smiled at one another, so things must be okay. 

“Frank,” Amy attempted to disrupt his attention 

“Not now.” 

She watched the way he studied you, almost disgusted by the way he withheld his care and affection from you. 

“Frank,” she tried again.

“What?” He snapped, finally meeting her gaze. 

“You really need to fix whatever this,” she pointed a finger from his chest to the hotel lobby, “is. It’s a little ridiculous.”

“There’s nothing to fix.” He straightened ever so slightly.

“Bullshit.” 

He was thankful she dropped the conversation when she did. It wasn’t that he was unwilling to admit there was a palpable tension, he just didn’t know how to fix it. He thought the hotel would be evident enough that he was sorry, but you pulled the door open a little too roughly for that to be the case. 

“Here,” you handed him a rectangular card.

“Two keys?” Amy asked. 

“That’s for your room. I got my own.”

“What?!” She scoffed and Frank clenched his jaw.  “Are you serious?” 

“I’m right next door.” You began to unload the van, carefully slinging a heavy bag around your good side. You tried your best to hide your inconspicuous smile, but it was harder the more you thought about the king sized bed assigned to you. 

Amy and Frank trodden heavily behind you as you made your way through the empty lobby and towards the elevators, not without waving towards the kind faced woman at the front desk. 

“You’re actually leaving me alone with him?“

“You'll be fine, Amy.” You rested your head against the back of the elevator wall, closing your eyes in surrender as the metal doors slid together. 

“That’s not fair,” she whined; you half expected her to start stomping her feet. 

“Life ain’t fair,” Frank finished the argument as the elevator came to a bumpy halt. You barely opened your eyes to glance at him, surprised at the way he nods, as if giving you permission to be alone. 

You aren’t sure why you became shy and why your cheeks warmed. Maybe it was the way his eyes had softened ever so slightly, or maybe it was the gratification of him acknowledging you made a sound decision for once—that you were capable, even after your extreme fuck up just hours earlier. Either way, the softness lingered as you found your rooms. 

The cool air hit Frank’s face as a pleasant surprise, though the cleanliness, the luxury, felt burdensome.

“You have to apologize.” Amy claimed her bed, minding the way her sneakers dirtied the white sheets.

“Yeah?” He huffed, remembering he should be offended by your lack of appreciation for the new scenery. “For what exactly?”

“You’re being a dick!” She exclaimed, slapping her hands against her crossed legs. “I’m serious, Frank. It’s my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” he sighed.

“Okay, great, then stop blaming her for it.”

“I’m not.” 

“Sure.” 

The hum of the air conditioning filled the room as Frank stood awkwardly, thrumming his fingers along his thigh while Amy pretended not to notice.

“‘I shouldn’t have left you alone, okay?” He leaned against an empty dresser, still unwilling to find comfort in the queen-sized mattress. 

“She did what you couldn’t do,” Amy mumbled and he grit his jaw in response. “I was the one that called for pizza, okay? I wasn’t thinking. It was on me and I’m still alive, so go say you’re sorry.” 

Being still was a foreign concept for Frank. He was constantly moving, hard wired for productivity and precision, scoffing at the mere idea of rest. His neurons exploded even in his sleep, unable to ignore the zap zap zap that kept him moving, kept him alert, kept him alive. It kept you alive.

He ran through the numerous possibilities and outcomes of apologizing to you in his overtired head, filtering through his own remorse and your indignation. 

Fuck it, he decided, ending his marathon around the room. 

“Don't call anyone. Don’t move from this bed. Don’t answer the phone and don’t answer the goddamn door,” he placed his hands on his hips, emphasizing his seriousness. “Understand?” 

“Roger that.” Amy saluted him as he neared the door, unable to hide her smile. “Use protection!”

Just as his hand reached the handle, he paused. “What did you just say?” She audibly laughed at the mixture of disgust and genuine shock plastered against his face. 

“Go kiss and make up!” She shooed him away, and she swore she saw him smile before he disappeared.  

The bathroom mirror shook in a steady succession following the slams of heavy doors. It was constant, and you almost considered complaining before remembering that this was a luxury compared to your previous hideaways. 

It wasn’t always so bad, though. Before Amy, it was exciting— like a cheap thrill that you hadn’t felt since you were 16, sneaking out of a bedroom window and choking down a stale cloud of smoke. There was a monumental lack of pessimism between you and Frank; he brought life back into you, and for once you didn’t feel guilty for living. 

So you accepted the cheap motels and fried foods, never minding the greasy-lipped kisses. You welcomed the sun beaming on your bare feet when they laid across the dash as you drove nowhere. You loved the way your stomach felt full as you drank a beer, pretending you weren’t hiccuping while Frank sunk an 8 ball in a top right pocket. You loved the nights spent in a dirty dive bar where you didn’t have to think about who the fuck you were for at least a few hours. You loved it, and then he told you to run before bullets started flying. 

The knock on the door was so faint you almost missed it over the sound of your cursing. 

It was him—you knew it was him. He had an aura so thick it bled through walls. 

“Y’gonna open the door?” 

No. 

Maybe.

The door opened with a metallic click, though you didn’t care to hold it open. He shoved himself inside, feeling like an intruder. 

You studied your irritated wound in the mirror, continuing your attempts at cleaning and suturing it. The sting of the alcohol wipes hardly compared to the pair of eyes transfixed on the evidence of your failures. 

“You okay?” What a stupid question. 

“Fine.” What a stupid question. 

Fine. It wasn’t a complete lie, though you avoided meeting his gaze at all costs. He could see right through you, hell, he could feel the resentment radiating off of you. 

You didn’t have to distract yourself from the emotional distance; your attention was spent on unwrapping the much too small steri strip from its packaging to notice the way he awkwardly balanced his weight. 

“Shit,” you cursed as the first suture folded over on itself.

“Do you need—“

“I got it.” 

You really tried, but it was impossible to see the wound over the mound of your breast, and you could hardly twist your waist enough to get a decent angle. You decided to go in blind, completely embarrassed but unwilling to admit defeat. 

The sticky strip landed incorrectly, directly atop of the ragged flesh, and you yelped as it adjusted. 

“Let me get that,” he didn’t wait for your protest before inviting himself into the small bathroom.

“It’s fine, I got it,” your fingers shook as you attempted to pry the suture from your skin, salty tears splashing towards the floor. 

You dropped your hand against your hip and audibly exhaled as he assessed the wound. He was hardly offended that you refused to look at him. Truth be told, he could hardly look at you without having his whole chest be filled with the weight of his own shortcomings. 

He hated when you cried, especially at his own doing. You could blame it on that searing pain of torn flesh instead of the heavy burden of disappointing him, so you did. You pretended that the only pain you felt was the physical kind as you stood in front of him, half naked and bleeding, as he sat on the lip of the bathtub.  

In any other situation you would have taken advantage of this position, cupping the back of his neck before sliding between his legs, waiting for him to pull you into his lap. But it’s different now, and you almost flinch as his calloused fingertips carefully brush your skin.

“You ready?” He asked, waiting for your permission before hurting you all over again. 

You nod while stare at the ceiling, counting the porous tiles, bracing yourself for what is to come. 

He tried to get the stitches and bandages ready as quickly as possible, prepping them on his knee as he gave the countdown. “One, two, three...” 

“God damnit!”

The world became nothing but splotchy stars and radio static as your flesh ripped apart all over again, and you bit down on your knuckle, focusing on that dull ache that took your attention away from the way Frank was piecing you together again. 

“I’m sorry.” He sounded muffled, his silhouette splotchy, but he held you together with nothing but cheap butterfly sutures and a half assed apology. 

“I know,” was all you could muster out, breathing in that last bite of fight you had in you. 

“Y’gonna stop poutin’ then?”

You jerked away from him, your nostrils flaring as you looked over his bent frame before turning on your heel, leaving him in that makeshift emergency room. 

He almost regretted saying it, almost, but there was nothing worse for a man than putting himself out there and being disregarded, so he sat there, counting the bloody wash cloths and discarded bandages until he felt that familiar sense of carnal  responsibility. 

You were changing when he finally came about, his imaginary tail tucked between his legs. It felt wrong to look at you, to see the way your bare back curved and folded before disappearing beneath an oversized shirt—his oversized shirt. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you before, with your body on full display as he appreciated every inch with a soft brush of his lips. He had seen you, tasted you, held you, but this time it was different.

“Look,” he cleared his throat to signal his presence. “I’m sorry.”

“You done?” You ignored him as you pulled the starchy sheets back, but he wrapped a hand around your wrist, forcing you to look at him. 

“Hey,” his eyes softened and voice dropped. “I mean it.” 

There was an invisible argument happening as you both held onto the white sheet. You knew. He knew. Someone had to give in. Someone had to break first. Someone had to bare their soul and damnit were you tired of pretending. 

“Well it don’t feel like it.” You gave in, and for a minute, you sounded as tired as you felt. 

He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and you took the opportunity to sit on the first clean mattress you’d seen in months before bracing yourself against the sturdy headboard. 

“Sometimes,” his hand twitched at his side as he contemplated his next sentence, “I look at her and all I see is my Lisa.” Your eyes shot towards his face at the mention of his daughter, and it was hard to ignore the painful knot in your stomach. “It’s like I’m losing her all over again and I—“

“Frank,” you leaned towards him, and the mattress sunk next to your feet. 

“I just can’t do it again, y’know?” He looked at you, tears brimming on the waterline but never daring to spill. “I can’t do it again.”

“You won’t. You won’t do it again.”

You said it as if you were a god, fully capable of aligning the stars and galaxies and writing history. You said it as if you were able to predict the future—a future where Amy was safe in an undisclosed location and you and Frank were, well, somewhere. 

He huffed at that, and rightfully so, though you tried to convince him anyways. 

“I’m sorry,” you attempted to shift the blame, “I didn’t know that she ordered food, I should have paid attention. I should have known better, I should have—” 

“Hey, hey, hey” he placed a hand on your leg. “Quit it.”

“I’m sorry, Frank. I didn’t mean to mess up.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry, I tried,” you could feel the uncomfortable knot lodged in your throat but you couldn’t push it down. “I swear I tried.”

It was embarrassing the way the hot tears left patterns against your white cotton shirt as they fell. You weren’t really sure why you were crying or who you were crying for. Amy was still alive and tucked into a bed just behind another door, but your sister was somewhere else entirely. 

“It’s not your fault,” Frank attempted to intervene, gently scooping you into his side. You let him, though not without feeling so incredibly selfish. He rubbed your arm, in a steady motion, squeezing lightly for his own emotional support. “I’m sorry for taking it out on you. I shouldn’t have left you guys alone. You shouldn’t have had to clean up my mess, okay?” 

You nod into his chest, wishing his words didn’t feel like a cheaply made sympathy card. 

“None of this is on you, you understand? You didn’t do anything wrong.” He placed a kiss against your temple, and you folded into him even more.

He somehow reached across space and time to tell you the words you wished you had heard that night: you didn’t do anything wrong. None of this is on you. Frank had become a god, transcending the laws of physics to piece you together with sutures and sympathies.

It was quiet for a while save for the muffled lull of the obnoxiously cold air conditioning. You missed this—the feeling that life could go on, that you were enough for him, that the silence didn’t signal an impending doom. 

“Stay,” you whispered. 

“Hm?”

It was silent as you considered your next move—play dumb or give in, going belly up for a few more minutes of playing pretend.

“Can you stay?”

It was silent for another minute, but his breathing shifted and you held your breath.

“Sweetheart,”

“I know. I know she’s next door,” you tried to make his decision easier. “Can you just stay until I fall asleep?” 

“Sure.”

It was less than convincing, but he kissed your neck before sliding himself down the mattress and pulling your body into his stomach. 

You curled into yourself, hugging a pillow against your face before deciding it was too soft. This, you and Frank, felt too soft after a week of sleeping in different beds and communicating through glances and strategies to stay alive—to keep Amy alive. It was different. Too soft and still not enough. 

He felt the emotional shift as your body tensed, snaking an arm beneath the crook of your neck before reaching for your empty hand. You followed directions without a second thought, intertwining fingers and limbs with a relaxed sigh before your world went dark.

He stayed, like he said he would, watching the numbers on the clock face ascend.

It was unfair to you, he thought, that he was splitting his attention between you and a young girl he barely knew. It was unfair that he had to uncurl himself from your body and walk next door to a bed that would be too cold, too empty, too soft and pretend that he didn’t just abandon you. It was unfair that he brought you along to something he wasn’t sure how to finish. 

The bed dipped as he forced himself away from your warmth. He held his breath, silently praying you wouldn’t notice his absence. You looked calm for the first time in a long time, since before you both became honorary foster parents and ran from men that looked like they were on a pilgrimage. You looked so calm, and he tucked his invisible tail between his legs again while pressing a kiss to your shoulder, letting out a final sigh of resignation before disappearing behind a closed door. 

You were too tired to move. Too tired to leave that spot that still smelled like him if you closed your eyes and inhaled. You knew he was leaving, only pretending as a courtesy to his feelings, though you couldn’t help but wish the metallic click of the door was a gun aimed directly at your chest.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst #frank castle slow burn #frank castle series #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher x female reader #the punisher angst #the punisher hurt/comfort

[omegalomania]

trying to put something together, do you have any examples of the the rest of the guys in fob supporting pete? or your favorite things theyve said about him?

i've assembled a compilation of fob just generally being super protective of each other over here, but ur in luck cause i was actually trying to assemble other instances of the other guys sticking up for pete specifically because a lot a lot a lot of preh interviews usually had some question along the lines of "aren't you guys so jealous of peeeete" to which they unfailingly always said "um, no?" and i always thought that was very sweet. if you want more fodder for this you can look up basically any group pre-hiatus interview, esp ioh and folie eras. you'll see lots of drama-mongering headlines that imply the other guys are jealous of all the attention pete gets when the interviews themselves make it clear that's not really the case.

here are some of my favorite instances of the other guys sticking up for him, in the press and just in general. not specifically what you were asking about but along the same lines so i hope it helps

nervousbreakdance answering a tumblr question from brendonspube: What was your reaction to finding out Pete showed his doodle on the Internet?

He didn't show it. Someone hacked his phone. My reaction was disgust at the total lack of privacy/decency. It was fans who did that. At the time I thought to myself "With fans like this, who needs fans?" Pete actually quit the band briefly over it. And was inconsolable. For like weeks. He didn't leave his house. It was really dark. I was very angry at the people who did it, but I learned to get beyond it and understand/forgive that curiosity could drive people to do such unreasonable things.

Yes, he took a picture of his penis. To send to his girlfriend. Millions of people take racy pictures every day. They just don't have their phone's memory hacked and it's contents displayed for millions of people to see.

Sorry if I sound mad. Not mad at you, just mad at culture for treating him so unfairly about it. It was none of anyone's business and people shouldn't have been so awful to him about it.

From AP magazine, 2008: Stump, particularly touched by a rare ballad, perks up. "That says something about Pete Wentz. The Pete Wentz you read about isn't empathetic enough to write a record from the perspectives of his best friends. This Pete Wentz did that. Where's that story?"

"Don't print that," mumbles Wentz. "I don't want to be empathetic."

Stump doesn't want to let it go. "I'm going to say something about Pete that's never made it into a printed interview because it must not be that interesting, but it is the fucking truth," the singer declares. "The thing about Pete is that people have always watched him and given him attention, and you have two options as far as how you are going ot handle that. Either you are going to totally shut off, or you are going to occasionally say you'll smile for [the cameras]. He does both. Before he was 'Pete Wentz, Rock Star,' people just paid attention to him.

"A lot of the time I'm around this dude, he's very shy," Stump continues, turning to address Wentz directly. "But I get the impression that you don't really like attention that much, but you face it. So the one time you smile for the camera, people go, 'Oh, he's a fucking ham.' That's one of the things that's really frustrating." He turns back to address AP. "It's not even something Pete has control over, the stuff that gets thrust on Pete, like the greatness or shallowness of Pete Wentz. He's neither, he's just Pete. And I think that's one of the huge things about the band. We don't rule. We don't suck. We're just a band."

From Kerrang: If you want to see Patrick Stump - who is much feistier and more outgoing than the media ever paints him as - get irritated, there are two conversation points that are guaranteed to do the job. The first is to lay into Wentz, and the second is to talk about Stump and Wentz in a way that suggests that you believe they are the Stump and Wentz that the press has them pegged as - the 'geeky, placid, talented one', and 'the arrogant, power boy, fame whore'.

Stump's speech will alter, losing its friendly sing-song lilt, peppered with amusing vocal impressions to fatten up the anecdotes he shares, to a super-fast, exhausted but precise flow, scattered with lines like, "here's the thing..."

"The most frustrating thing about celebrity is the assumption that you know somebody based on what you've read about them," he sighs. "People have ideas of who we are but they're not always accurate. I've become, like, the shy guy, but when I'm an asshole that gets ignored. But when Pete's shy or really sweet, that gets ignored. I'm misleadingly articulate but I'm easily the least well-read of anyone in the band by a long shot. But there's something about this character that people see - they see my glasses or something - and they assume that I'm a mad scientist.

"It's real easy to make characters," he says. "I watch the character of Pete Wentz and I get defensive. Things are made up, things that he had nothing to do with..." His voice trails off.

"It makes me mad," he says, curtly, and pauses.

"Here's the thing," Stump continues again, the words firing out of his mouth faster now. "The Pete that they made up, yeah, I don't like that Pete. I don't like the fake Pete but that's not Pete at all."

Do you like the Patrick that they've made up?

"I don't really read a lot of his stuff," he whispers from under the brim of his cap. "He's not the most interesting to me.

"People talk about how bands break up as their egos get bigger or whatever, but if anything, Pete and I are better than ever," Stump adds. "Pete and I diffuse each other in a lot of ways and we're astoundingly similar guys. I'm just as crazy as he is - there's been a lot of to-do made about him being crazy - and he's just as meticulous, orderly and polite as I am."

So you have a dark streak like Pete?

"Of course. That's the funny thing, people attach to Pete's dark side but he's the funniest and most excitable guy. He's probably, per hour, per day, more pleasant to deal with than I am."

From an October 2008 interview with chorus.fm née absolutepunk:

What’s one thing you think people most misunderstand or misinterpret about you and/or the band?

I think they really don’t understand Pete. I’ve heard a lot of really awful, negative things said about Pete, and it’s like, “Dude, you don’t even have a clue how honest and real that guy is” for the amount of crap that people talk about him. Pete said it, and it’s true, they make you into a wrestling character. And it’s also like reality TV editing. It’s really easy to cut somebody in rolling their eyes when that might not have even happened next to the thing that it’s being shown next to. Honestly, I don’t know, that’s one thing that bothers me a lot. 

And then I’ll hear things from people where it’s like, “Oh your band’s great but I hate your bass player” and I’m like, then you just said you hate our band cause I don’t fucking care. He’s my best friend. Obviously he’s still in the band for a reason, it’s not like I’m waiting for someone to go “Oh yeah, you know, Pete sucks” and I’ll go like “Yes! Thank you, now he’s totally fired!” No, he’s my best friend and he’s absolutely important. He’s invaluable. I wouldn’t be here without him. I’ll hear things like, “Your voice is great but Pete’s really lame” and it’s like, well, Pete’s the only guy who got me to sing. I wasn’t a singer until Pete saw it in me. So I don’t particularly see value in me being a singer but he does and he’s always my cheerleader, trying to keep me going. So I am the musician I am pretty much because of Pete. And I’m not even saying I’m that great a musician. I’m saying if there’s anyone that thinks I am, all the thanks goes to Pete. So that’s one thing that bothers me a lot and I don’t think people really understand fully.

From an October 2008 interview with chorus.fm née absolutepunk: Do you or any of the other members ever feel a sense of jealousy towards Pete? 

No, we’re pretty defensive when it comes to the way he’s been portrayed. Pete’s my best friend, I was the best man at his wedding, I love that man to death. I’d take a bullet for him. But, I hate the way that the Pete Wentz that actually exists never gets covered, it never gets spoken of. There’s so many accusations that are so ridiculous about the guy that are taken as the gospel—people just assume that he posted pictures of his penis on the internet. That is the stupidest fucking thing thing I’ve ever heard. Why on earth would you ever do that? His parents were gonna see that, come on. Have some common sense. He is actually a human being. Would you want your penis all over the internet? Probably not. He probably doesn’t either. 

This is another little interesting factoid about Pete: he quit the band. I had to talk him back into the band after those pictures got out. It nearly broke the band up he was so devastated. He had to claw his way back up from massive depression to even make fun of it.

Anyway, no, we are not jealous of him. If anything, I would want people to know the real Pete Wentz. I get the impression that people don’t really want to know him, because he’s not the bad guy on the reality show. He’s the most loyal guy I know, to a fault actually. He’s one of those guys who will never stand against his friends. Here’s an analogy. If he’s gonna make some money off shoveling coal, he’s gonna bring his friend on with him, and his friend is gonna shovel coal. If the friend’s not good at shoveling coal, Pete will shovel more coal to make sure that guy gets his share, even if the guy is doing terrible work. The guy could sit down, relax, and open up a book, and Pete’s still gonna be shoveling coal for that guy. He is the most loyal guy I know. He reminds me a lot of the portrayal of Frankie Valli in Jersey Boys just in the way that in Jersey Boys, and I don’t know if this is the true story, one of the other singers in the Four Seasons racks up this huge gambling debt and Frankie Valli is like, “We’ll pay for it, we will never ask for it back, we’ll just pay for it, he’s just gotta not do it again,” and that’s the kind of guy Pete is. I will never be jealous of him.

From AP Magazine #223: "Everyone forgets what they do in their own bedroom, in their own time," explains Stump. "I was never pissed at Pete for being Pete in his own time. I am pissed at whoever stole that picture and leaked it, and for being such a douchebag and having no sense of decency or privacy."

From Spin magazine in December 2005: "I think there would be resentment toward Pete from the other three," says Janick [Fueled by Ramen founder]. "I mean, how could there not be? But I've never seen it. It seems that they're a really tight unit."

Says Hurley: "[Pete's] the most loyal dude on earth. He's never done anything that we're not a part of." Trohman agrees: "He's a Type A personality and has a lot of leader qualities. Plus, we knew he was just better at that [business] stuff."

From Inside Entertainment in 2007:

Pete, you're dating Ashlee Simpson. How hard is it to deal with all the extra attention from your relationship? Pete: I mean, how crazy is it that you're dating some person, but then how much crazier is it that you're in love with that person? You want them at your shows, to come and do things with you, but because of who they are, that's all people focus on. I try not to do things that are detrimental to my band but it's just unfortunate because the two clash. Joe: The rest of us in the band know that whatever comes out of the media frenzy, that people attach to Pete and his girlfriend, it isn't something perpetrated by Pete. I mean, we'll do interviews and people will ask stupid, inane questions.

What kinds of questions? Joe: Like, "Are you writing a new record? Is it going to be about Ashlee?" And it's like, "Yeah, dude, that's totally what it's going to be about. That's why we started this band, just so Pete could meet Ashlee." He loves his girlfriend, it's as simple as that. But we're just regular dudes and we just like doing our band. We didn't do this to run around and be like Pete and show our pee pees to everybody. Pete: [Laughs] Joe: We started this to be a band. The best thing about doing this band is we've got to a level where we can focus on more important issues.

Tweet from Andy @FUCKCITY before he got his own Twitter, when fans were criticizing Pete about the hiatus during early 2010:

everyone stop attacking pete. that pisses me off-a

From AV Club in June 2007:

AVC: The cult of personality around [Pete] could sink another band. How does Fall Out Boy deal with that?

PS: The thing is that we know each other very well. Pete's probably my best friend in the world; I think he understands me better than a lot of people, and I understand him better than a lot of people. And that's the way we get over it. If they make you into a wrestling character, into that great mythical kind of bad guy, it's really easy for people to make you into something, to decide who you are. At the end of the day, the Pete that I read about, yeah, I don't like him 'cause I've read he's a total dick. But the thing is I actually know Pete Wentz, and he's a really good guy, he's a really quiet guy, he's a really polite guy. He's a really mellow, honest, loyal guy. He's not this cold-hearted mogul. It's the funniest thing; if Pete Wentz really cared about money, he'd probably make more. He wastes and loses more money than anybody I know—he gives it away. At any rate, whatever, I don't want to gush about him, but that's how we overcome that whole cult of personality. At the end of the day, they deify you or demonize you, but you're really just some guy.

#askin hours #anon #*making poasts #fall out boy #patrick is probably the most interviewed after pete so a lot of these are from him #but joe and andy stick up for him plenty too #the way joe talks abt him in his book is so fond and it gets to me

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Protector: A Deal

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Warnings: none

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Word Count: 3961

Talking, training, and a visit to the Aspen Witch.

Bonnie arrives the next morning to see Virgil sitting on his front steps, adjusting the straps on one of his gauntlets. She smiles and waves upon seeing him, holding out something that looks suspiciously like a bag of coin. He raises an eyebrow as she gets closer.

"I walked past the apothecary and she said I should spare you the trip," she says by way of explanation.

Virgil takes it, inclining his head in thanks as he stands up. "Have you eaten yet this morning?"

"Yes, I have, thank you." She follows him inside. "What are we doing today?"

"Well, I figured we could go over the basic guidelines for how to interact with magic users and you could practice them. Tomorrow, we will go over simple charms and enchantments. The third day, we prepare to see the Aspen Witch."

"Are you going to tell me why we're going?" He only smiles. "Will you answer any of my questions if I have them?"

"Some of them I will answer, yes."

"I have a feeling I'm going to want to throw something at your head quite often," she mutters and he chuckles, indicating the seat she took yesterday.

"Has anyone ever told you how to interact with the fair folk?"

"Not to give them your name."

"Is that it?" Bonnie shrugs. "Alright. Well, I'm going to give you a bit more than that."

"I thought you were teaching me about magic users?"

"In my experience, it's better to err on the side of caution when it comes to them. I treat them like they're fair folk—or what most people would consider like fair folk—and then I'm much less likely to end up on the wrong side of them." He folds his hands in front of himself. "My rules for myself tend to be this: first, if you discover someone to be a magic user, find the quickest and politest way to exit that conversation and get away from them."

"What? Why?"

"Because it gives you fewer chances to fuck things up."

She blinks. "Isn't that…rude?"

"If you do it right, by design, no. You'll have an easier time than most because you'll be in an inn, where you can say you've got another customer or something to see to. Second: if you're going to deal with a magic user, be it asking something of them or if they're asking something of you, name your price beforehand."

Bonnie gets a guilty look on her face and Virgil sighs.

"That's not what you did with the Aspen Witch, was it?"

"…no, I did, but I, um…I may have offered…too much."

Not your contract, not your problem, you know the Aspen Witch, don't ask, Virgil tells himself sternly as he shifts. "Well, now you know."

"Now I know."

"And third: if you ever find that you've pissed off a magic user, don't."

Bonnie snorts. "Okay, that's fair. I, uh, might have done that already?"

"The twins? If they wanted to take their anger out on you, they would've done so by now." He sits up. "Unless there's another set of magic users I need to be worried about?"

"No, I was thinking of those." She gives herself a shake. "Is that it? Seems pretty simple."

"That's because it is. The hard part is actually acting on those rules. Which is why I brought up the fair folk comparison: I'm going to teach you how to talk."

Bonnie raises an eyebrow and gestures back and forth between them as if to say what do you think we're doing right now?

"I mean talking to a magic user. You don't want to give away any extra information, you don't want to imply that they owe you a favor or that you owe them a favor, and you do not want to be rude."

"Is asking too many questions rude?"

He huffs a laugh at her expression. "I don't consider it rude, no, but again: err on the side of caution, remember?"

"Yes, I understand. Are we going to practice talking?"

"That's exactly what we're going to do. My proposition is this: we talk, we have a conversation, except we're going to pretend that I'm a magic user. I'll stop the conversation when you've put yourself in a dangerous position. How does that sound?"

"If I'll be dead or something?"

"Or if you've given them free rein to demand something of you, or to cause harm to you or those you care about."

"Okay. Are we—are we starting now?"

"Yes, we're starting now." He stands, going toward the cabinet. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Stop."

Bonnie blinks in confusion. "Huh?"

"You said 'thank you.'"

"Yeah, 'cause it's polite, why did you stop?"

"Saying 'thank you' indicates they've done something for you. It would be in their power to demand something of you in return."

"Then what do I say instead?"

"That yes, you would like it, or that you appreciate it."

"Okay. Um, do we start again?"

"Yes. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, I would like some tea."

"Alright." Virgil sets about making a cup of tea. "What about something to eat?"

"I appreciate the offer of food," Bonnie says, a bit slower now that she's choosing her words carefully, "but I have already eaten this morning."

"Very well." Virgil glances out of the window. "The weather is nice today, isn't it?"

"Yes. I like the sun."

"Oh?"

"It's my favorite weather."

The water finishes boiling a few moments later and he pours the tea, sliding it across the table. Bonnie nods, and he can see her stop herself from saying thank you, before she raises the cup to her lips and takes a drink. "Stop."

"What? But I didn't say anything?"

"You just drank something that I gave you without knowing what it is."

"It's tea!"

"I said it was tea, but you have no way of knowing if that's what it actually is."

Bonnie's brow furrows in frustration. "Start again."

"Alright, we've started."

"I've not had this tea before," she says, still aiming for polite but he can hear the undertone of stress. "What's in it?"

"It's tea."

"But what's in it?" He raises an eyebrow and she quickly continues. "I'm good friends with someone who makes teas."

"What friend would this be?"

"She works with me."

"And where do you work, that you would need someone to know about teas?"

"At a place that serves tea."

"Speaking of tea, you've not touched yours," he says, nodding to the still-steaming mug, "are you going to let it go to waste?"

She looks down at the mug. Her jaw sets. Virgil sees it work back and forth for a moment before he takes pity on her and calls for a stop. She puts the mug down slightly too hard and the tea sloshes dangerously close to the rim. She clenches her fists in the fabric of her skirts so tightly that he worries for a moment she's going to tear a hole in them. "I can't even get past two sentences!"

"It takes time," Virgil says quietly, "it's okay, Bonnie."

"No, it's not."

"It is," he insists, coming closer and nudging the mug towards her. "Here, drink."

"Would you tell me what's in it?"

"It is just tea, with jasmine flower and moon leaves." When she still glares at it warily, he takes another cup and pours some of it into it, taking a sip. "See?"

"I would like to know about the cup you've served to me," she spits.

"We've stopped, Bonnie," he says softly, crouching down to make himself smaller, "it's just tea, I give you my word. It's the same tea and cup I gave you yesterday. Although—that might have been the one I was drinking out of."

It takes another few moments before Bonnie reluctantly takes the cup and drinks, holding it in her lap and resolutely avoiding his gaze. "It's good."

"I'm glad you think so."

The wind blows through the open window, smelling sweetly of the garden outside.

"I should have asked how best you learn," Virgil says, still quiet after a while, "and I should not have been so harsh."

"No, it's what I asked you for," Bonnie says, "I just…wasn't expecting it. I'm sorry."

He frowns. "What are you sorry for?"

"I asked you to do something, you're doing it for no charge, and now I'm throwing a tantrum for it."

He huffs, standing—and not wincing at the strain in his knees, thank you—and pulling the other chair closer. "You're hardly throwing a tantrum, you're upset and you're expressing that. You don't need to apologize for it."

Bonnie gives a noncommittal hum as she keeps drinking. Her hands are still a little too tightly clenched around the mug for his liking, though, and he shifts to make sure his body language is as non-threatening as possible.

"Are you more frustrated," he asks as gently as he can, "or more scared?"

"Both," Bonnie mumbles, tilting the mostly-empty cup back and forth. "I can't even get past a cup of tea, and I'm supposed to protect the inn?"

"You're not."

"What?"

"You're not supposed to protect the inn," Virgil corrects, still taking great pains to be gentle, "you've come here to learn something, yes, but it's not your responsibility to keep the inn safe from magic users. There are other people there—the owner, for one—that will do that. And if you really need to deal with magic users, there are people like me."

She looks at him, finally, and almost immediately part of him wishes she hadn't when he sees tears brimming in her eyes. He gets up and fetches a soft cloth and hands it to her, watching as she dries them.

"I'm sorry I've scared you, Bonnie."

She shakes her head, swallowing heavily. "Part of the reason this is so hard is because I know it's you I'm talking to."

"How so?"

"You're not going to take advantage of any of the information I might give out accidentally, you're not going to hold any favors over my head."

"You've known me for what, a day at most?"

"And in those days, you've agreed to do something without charge, you've helped me with magic users when you didn't have to, and now you're comforting me when I'm upset," she shoots back, "do you really think you work in an inn as long as I have and don't develop the ability to read someone right away?"

He chuckles. "I suppose you're right."

"Can I finish my tea before we start again?"

"Of course."

They sit there in the quiet for another while before Bonnie takes a deep breath and sets the cup back on the table. "I appreciated the tea. It was very good."

"I'm pleased to hear it. Would you like some more?"

"Yes, that would be lovely."

Virgil gets up and goes to prepare the tea, making enough for both of them this time. He sets it on the table and slides her mug over to her. "There."

"I appreciate it. Would you tell me what type of tea it is?"

"Why?"

Bonnie doesn't say anything, waiting patiently for an answer, and he smiles as he lifts his own mug. "Jasmine flower and moon leaves."

"I see." She picks it up and copies him. "It's very good."

"Glad to hear it."

***

Bonnie walks in the next day as he's got his sleeves rolled up and several things spread across the table. He turns and beckons her closer. She approaches slightly warily but ends up at his elbow.

"What is all of this?"

"This," he says, "is the very basics of spell components and recognizing pre-existing enchantments. I'm going to show you how to make simple wards and shields and how to recognize scrying spells and low-level enchantments."

"How is this not being a magic user if we're doing magic?"

"Mixing things together until they do what you want them to do isn't magic."

Bonnie snorts. "You should tell that to the baker in our kitchens."

"Actually being a magic user involves…" He sighs. "It involves something that's explained in that book over there that I don't remember off the top of my head."

She reaches for the book, looking up at him in silent question.

"Go on, sure. It's going to take me a few more minutes to get this ready anyways."

Bonnie buries her nose promptly in the book as Virgil sets about separating the various herbs and powders into neat piles. He takes his pestle and mortar and sets it on one corner next to several squares of cloth. Reaching over the sink to a small box, he retrieves the moonsleek scales and the vials and puts them carefully next to one of the larger books.

"This says there's more than one type of magic user, though," Bonnie says as he starts to twist the twine together.

"Hm?"

"Like—there are witches," she says, reading from the book, "but there's also warlocks, sorcerers…what are the differences?"

He shrugs. "In my experience, it's been enough to know if someone is a magic user. I've never bothered to figure out exactly what kind."

"So the Aspen Witch is—well, she's a witch. The twins—are they all witches as well?"

"They're part of a coven, aren't they?"

"I suppose…"

"Leave your pondering aside for a moment," he says, nodding to her sleeves, "and come over."

"Coming."

"Alright," he says, "would it be helpful to you to know what everything is before we begin, or would you like to learn as we go?"

"Will you tell me what we're doing and then what we're using?"

"Sure. I'm going to show you how to make a basic ward bag. To do that, we need the cloth—" he points— "havershingle powder, elderberry, sage, and ostulum."

"I know what some of those words meant."

He chuckles. "Do you want to watch and copy me, or do it yourself while I watch?"

"Can I try?"

"Sure. None of these ingredients are particularly volatile, so there's no risk of anything happening if we mess up."

"…I don't think I like the sound of that."

"Don't worry," he says as he hands her a pair of gloves, "I'm not teaching you any of those. Now, take one of the cloth squares and put it in front of you."

She takes it and lays it flat on the table, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Okay, what next?"

"See the bottle of green powder near the book?" She picks it up. "Right. Add about as much as your thumbnail."

Bonnie furrows her brow in concentration as she carefully pours the powder into the center of the cloth. She stops a few times, holding up her thumb to compare it to. "Are your—is this enough?"

"Yeah, that's good. Then you want to take the elderberry—yeah, that's it—and crush it into a paste."

"Using this?" She reaches for the pestle and mortar. "Like this?"

"Yeah, that's it. Don't grind around the edges so much, try and pound it—yeah, there you go. Then just add it on top."

"Do you have to clean this each time?" she asks, struggling a little to get all the paste out.

"You should, yeah. Mixing the ingredients isn't great, but since everything's going in the same place it's not the end of the world. Now the sage—yep, add just a bit more—there you go."

"And you said the ostulum?" She picks up a small pouch of bright red powder. "How much of this?"

"A pinch."

"Okay, that much?"

"Yeah, that's perfect. Now see if you can wrap the square around it without letting any of it fall out—wow."

"It's like folding the pastry," she says, making one of the neatest ward bags Virgil's ever seen, "easier, actually, because it's not sticking to my hands. Do we tie it off with the twine?"

"Yes, here, let me—oh, no, you've got it." He puts his hands on his hips. "You're going to be good at this part, aren't you?"

Bonnie laughs. "I'd like to think all my years in a kitchen are good for something."

"Well, I was going to suggest you make a few more just to get the hang of it, but why don't we move on to the other thing first and then we can make a bunch of them for you to take with you?"

"Are you sure you're not letting me pay for any of this?"

"I'm not letting you take all of them, I need some too." Virgil steps up beside her and reaches for the box of moonsleek scales. "The other stuff you'll be able to get at most apothecaries, but these might be harder to find. Is there a river near your village?"

"Not too far away, yes."

"Do you know if there are moonsleeks there?"

"Not in the river, but there's a pond they like to swim in. Are those their scales?"

"Yes. Here, go on," he says, holding the box out as she runs her fingers through the scales, "feels cool, right?"

"Really cool. Do I need this many?"

"Oh, god, no. You'll just need about a pouchful. Take a few of them—one more, maybe," he says as she picks up a few— "and go ahead and grind them up."

"Can I wash the pestle and mortar first?"

"Sure."

"How did you learn how to do all of this?" Bonnie asks as she goes over to the sink. "It seems like a lot to learn by yourself, did someone teach you too?"

When Virgil's quiet for a long moment, she glances over her shoulder.

"Was that rude?"

"No," he says, slightly quieter, "it was a perfectly reasonable question."

"But not one you're going to answer?" He shakes his head. "Alright, fair enough. This is clean now."

"Great. Go ahead and start to grind up the scales." He comes to stand over her shoulder as she starts to pound the scales into a fine black-grey dust. "Once that's pretty fine, you want to add the rest."

"How do you remember in which order they go," she asks as he walks her through adding seeds and other ingredients, "is there a trick to it?"

"Generally when you're working with pestle and mortar spells, you want to start with the hardest ingredients and work to the softest. You can't overgrind something like a moonsleek scale but you can definitely ruin a pascor seed."

They keep working until the mixture is almost a paste, Bonnie's breathing turning slightly labored at the end.

"Now all you need to do is put it into a pot to be cooked down."

"This is literally cooking," she says as she starts to scrape it into the bowl, "we're just reducing this down now."

"I've never claimed to be good in the kitchen, but I can make a decent shield ward."

"You should try it sometime."

"Perhaps," he says, watching as the mixture heats up, "while that's going, let me show you how to recognize some basic enchantments."

He keeps one eye on the pot as they start to go over scrying spells, warding charms, and disguises. Bonnie asks questions about duration, strength, and how they interact with the basic things he's taught her to make. The faint smell of iron and spice starts to waft through the room as the day goes on, the sun moving the shadows slowly around the room. As they near the end of his explanation of scrying spells and how to recognize them, he sees Bonnie grow quiet, reading from the book. After another moment, she turns and stares at her cloak hanging by the door.

"I think there's a scrying spell on my cloak," she whispers. Virgil hums and she looks up at him. "Did you know?"

"I suspected."

"Were you going to tell me?"

"If you hadn't realized it on your own, yes, I would've told you right after we finished this section." He closes the book. "But I had a feeling you would notice yourself."

She looks at the cloak again, watching it sway lightly back and forth in the breeze from the window. "How do we take it off?"

"Are you sure that's what you want to do? It would alert the magic user."

"I don't want to be spied on," she says firmly, "and you're the one who's let it stay here for this long."

He concedes her point with a nod. "This isn't something basic, and I don't want you trying this on your own, do you understand?"

Her face tightens a little but she nods. "I understand."

"Take your cloak and go into the yard, then."

He gathers the requisite supplies and a dagger, tucking a charm into his pocket before heading out the door. Bonnie stands a few paces from the edge of the garden, holding the cloak. He comes up next to her and goes to take it.

"Wait." He pauses. Her mouth twists back and forth. "What if the magic user decides to come see why the spell was broken?"

"Then they come."

"…what if it's the twins?"

"Then we deal with it." At the fear that flickers over her features, he softens. "I don't think it's the twins, Bonnie."

"Who is it, then, the Aspen Witch?"

"No, not her either."

She stares at him for a moment longer before seemingly accepting that he wouldn't be offering to do this if he really thought she was in any danger, and so nods, holding out the cloak. "Do it, then."

"Take a step back."

He takes the cloak and lights the wick in the bottle he's holding. A bright purple flame flickers to life and he holds it near the folds of the cloak. With a massive puff and spark, something intangible fizzles away and he quickly blows out the flame, calling Bonnie close to him as he hands her back the cloak.

Not a moment later, the air ripples and Patton steps out of nothingness. Bonnie lets out a quiet noise of surprise but otherwise does nothing except move a little closer to him.

"Virgil," Patton says, "well, I was going to tell you that something might be happening to Bonnie, but…"

Neither he nor Bonnie say anything, and Patton just smiles.

"Seems I didn't have to."

"You put a scrying spell on my cloak," Bonnie says quietly, her voice polite yet demanding an answer.

"Yes, I did. I, well, Virgil asked us to keep an eye on you."

He sees Bonnie glance at him out of the corner of his eyes. "That didn't mean to put a spell on her. What if the coven spotted it?"

Patton's about to answer when Bonnie suddenly grips his sleeve. He turns instinctively towards her, keeping his eyes on Patton. "There are more of them. They're in the trees."

Ah, of course. Why would just one of you show up when all of you could? He sighs, tucking Bonnie a little more behind him, before he raises his voice. "I know you're there, come out!"

"I told you," he hears Remus say immediately, followed by an ow from Roman, probably. He just shakes his head as the rest of them emerge from the tree line, walking towards them. Bonnie takes another step closer, still holding onto his sleeve and he ducks his head.

"Don't worry," he murmurs, just loud enough for her to hear, "no harm will come to you while I'm here."

She nods sharply but doesn't move away. He can't say he blames her.

"Virgil," Logan nods, "Bonnie."

"Virgil," Roman says, spreading his arms and coming closer as if to hug him, "it's good to see you."

Virgil doesn't back away, but he makes himself look larger and moves his arm to shield Bonnie. Roman sees it, stopping and pouting but Virgil just stares at him.

"You must forgive them," Logan sighs, shaking his head, "they've been in a mood all week."

"Yeah, 'cause someone—hey!" Remus rubs the back of his head where Logan slaps him. "That hurt!"

"You'll live."

"You're an awfully long way from home," Janus says, addressing Bonnie, "what could you be doing all the way out here?"

He can feel the way Bonnie tenses behind him, but her voice comes out evenly. "I've come to seek a favor from Virgil."

"And what favor would that be?" She remains silent and Janus quirks an eyebrow. "Come now, surely that's not an unreasonable question to ask?"

"No, it's a perfectly reasonable question."

Virgil feels a smug rush of pride and he knows Janus can see it on his face. Even Logan chuckles as he rolls his eyes and folds his arms. "You're both no fun."

"Are you okay?" Remus asks next. "Have those two been giving you any more trouble?"

"No."

"What about the rest of the coven?"

"No."

"That's good to hear."

They lapse into silence again. Bonnie's slightly less tense but she makes no move to step out from where Virgil has her, and Virgil doesn't drop his arm. After another moment, he can see something akin to hurt flicker over Roman's expression.

"Virgil," he says, "you know—you know we're not going to do anything, right?"

"I do."

"So then why are you—" and he indicates their position— "like that?"

"It's not for him," Remus says quietly, "it's for her."

"The five of us are a lot for Virgil," he hears Patton agree, "and he's Virgil. What do you think it's like for Bonnie?"

"We all did just appear out of nowhere," Logan adds and Roman nods, but he doesn't look pleased about it. "We mean you no harm, Bonnie, truly. Any friend of Virgil's is a friend of ours."

"And we're sorry for how we acted in your village," Remus says quickly, "for putting you in danger."

Huh. So they do have manners after all.

Behind him, Bonnie clears her throat. "I appreciate your apologies, and I have a way you can make it up to me."

Virgil doesn't tense, but he moves the hand behind him slightly closer to her. What the fuck are you doing?

"And this would be?"

"Will you tell me what sorts of magic users you are?"

"Bonnie," Virgil says lowly.

"You said not to ask ones that I didn't know, but you know them," Bonnie says back, and she has a point, but Virgil doesn't have to like it.

"I'm a wizard," Logan says, because again, he's the reasonable one, apparently, "or witch, if you'd prefer."

"I'm a druid," says Patton, and he makes some movement with his fingers and a glowing flower appears.

"Artificer," Remus says, "that means I'm like a magic blacksmith."

"I'm a sorcerer," Roman says, "Janus is a warlock with a fair folk patron."

"Patron?"

"That's who gives him his magic," Logan says before Janus can speak for himself, "they have a pact between them."

"Like a magic sugar baby."

Virgil can't help it, he snorts. Bonnie does too. Janus simply smiles and smacks Remus upside the head. "Ignore him."

"What? It's true!"

"Are they always like this?"

"Pretty much."

"You two looked to be in the middle of something, though," Patton says over the rest of them starting to bicker about whether Janus is a magic sugar baby or not, "we'll leave you to it. And we won't put any more scrying spells on you, Bonnie, you have our word."

Bonnie nods and Patton starts sheparding the rest of them away. Roman glances over his shoulder and winks at Virgil as they vanish and he's thankful that Bonnie is still behind him so she can't see his face. As soon as he's gotten his blush under control, he turns and looks at her.

"I know, I know, that was risky," she says immediately, holding her hands up, "but I got my answers and you were right, okay?"

"You did well. They're…a lot, I know. I'm sorry if they scared you."

"I trust you, I knew you wouldn't let them hurt me."

He scoffs. "I think you have the wrong idea of just how much I can do to stop a magic user that really wants something."

"But they like you."

"I—well—they—I don't—" He shakes his head. "Still."

"Are we going to run into them again when we go see the Aspen Witch?"

"It's likely," Virgil says as they start walking back toward the house, "they…show up a lot."

"Because they like you?"

"Bonnie," he says, but it's not enough to deter her this time.

"And why did the sorcerer wink at you when he was leaving?"

"How about we stop talking for a little bit?"

***

As it turns out, they only run into two of them: Janus on the crossing of Skarind Bridge, which honestly, he isn't too upset about. Crossing the bridge himself is one thing, but with Bonnie…no, it's actually a good thing that Janus showed up. And then Remus, in the pond, where he offers to take Bonnie swimming and Virgil has to remind her that they only have so many dry clothes.

"But I could dry them for you!"

"I have a feeling that's beside the point."

"He's not letting you have any fun, is he?"

He does have to gently remind Bonnie that she doesn't have to know absolutely everything just yet, especially when she gets frustrated that she can't do something it took him years to master. She grumbles something about you try having someone be competent right next to you but lets him do all the really difficult things to keep them moving at a decent pace through the forest.

Every so often, out of the corner of his eye, he sees her get this look on her face like she's about to ask him something. A few times she opens her mouth, but then she asks about a piece of wildlife or something about their equipment and he can tell that's not what she really wanted to ask. Still, he answers her questions and they keep moving. It isn't until they're making camp for what should be the last night before they reach the Aspen Witch and he sees the look on her face again that he broaches the subject.

"I'm not a magic user, Bonnie," he says softly as they sit near the flickering campfire, "you can ask me what you want to."

Her expression flickers slightly before it falls completely and he finds himself shifting closer on instinct. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"This," she says, gesturing around, "taking me on this trip, showing me how to mix and make stuff, all of this. I'm not paying for any of it, and you're—you're being kind. In a way you don't have to be."

She fiddles with the locket around her neck.

"A-and with the magic users. You protected me from them, even though they're your—even though you know them and they know you and you were pretty sure they weren't going to hurt me. But you could tell I was scared and so you protected me—even though it made them upset at you."

"Bonnie," he says softly, interrupting her before she can work herself up anymore, "hey, look at me."

She does, her fingers still twisted into the locket's chain.

"You asked for my help, I'm giving it to you. There's nothing that bugs me more than a job done wrong, so I'm trying to do it right. And that means that yeah, it's a lot, but I'm happy to do it." He hesitates for a moment, then holds out his hand. She takes it. "I haven't had someone I could…help like this for a long time now."

The campfire crackles quietly as the forest hums with its nightlife. They sit there, in the quiet, as the smoke drifts up and into the trees. Far away, they hear the rustle of the wind as it blows through the leaves.

"I think I'm still scared," Bonnie confesses in a near whisper.

"That's okay," he murmurs back, "I'll protect you."

They spend the rest of the night talking quietly about not much at all until Bonnie falls asleep, her head pillowed near Virgil's leg. He wakes before she does the next morning, beginning the quiet packing-up of their campsite until it's time to gently shake her awake.

"Come on," he calls as she grumbles and looks up at him, "we're almost there."

He might be imagining the eagerness with which she scrambles up and makes ready to follow him, but he's not so sure he is.

Finally, they break into the clearing where the Aspen Witch lives. Over his shoulder, he hears Bonnie shuffle and glances back to see her fixing her hair and cloak. He chuckles to himself and walks to the door, pausing when he feels her touch his shoulder.

"Is there anything I should, you know, say or do?"

"I trust you."

And before she has time to ask him what the fuck that means, he's knocked on the door.

"It's Virgil and Bonnie, we've come to trade."

He can hear the surprise in the Aspen Witch's voice. "Come in."

He pushes open the door and steps through. Bonnie comes through a moment later. The Aspen Witch looks up from her table, smiling when she sees him. Then her eyes flicker to Bonnie and linger for a long moment before she reaches down for something.

"You said you have come to trade."

"I have come to trade," Virgil confirms, taking out the jar of peat dragon scales. "I have come to trade a jar of peat dragon scales for a snapdragon calyx."

The Aspen Witch peers at the jar he holds out. "It will take me some time to prepare the calyx."

"I can wait."

"I will trade you the jar of peat dragon scales for a snapdragon calyx."

He nods and sets it down. "If you are in the middle of something, I will not ask that you interrupt it. I will wait."

The Aspen Witch nods as he steps back, but her eyes keep flickering to Bonnie, who hasn't said a word yet. "You are wearing the locket."

Bonnie's hand goes to touch it. "Yes," she says, clearing her throat when her voice comes out thin, "yes, I am wearing it. I am…grateful for it."

"I am pleased to hear it." The Aspen Witch looks down and continues to…do whatever she's doing, but the tops of her cheeks are pink. "I am…pleased to see you, as well."

"Really? I—I mean, I'm pleased to see you too."

"And yet you stand so far away. You can come closer," she continues when Bonnie doesn't move, "I…it would not upset me."

Bonnie steps closer, hesitant, and when the Aspen Witch doesn't react, she comes closer still, peering down at the table. "I, um, I would like to know what you're doing."

"I am preparing a veridi-vorn hide to be used."

"What's—I, um, I'm curious about that."

"You're much more cautious than you were the last time you were here," she says with some humor, "though I suspect I know why."

"I have asked to know more about how to properly interact with magic users," Bonnie admits, "and so, I'm…yeah."

"I found it refreshing."

"My lack of caution?"

"Yes," she says, taking a thin blade and beginning to score the hide, "I have rarely been spoken to with such freedom."

"Well, all you had to do was ask," Bonnie says, clearly before she can think about it. But the Aspen Witch seems as surprised as she does, head jerking up, and she doesn't take it back.

"Would you," she says, "if I asked?"

"What, speak to you like I did before?"

"Yes."

Bonnie huffs. "I don't think there's much…well, I shouldn't say that."

The Aspen Witch's expression fades slightly but it's covered well enough. "The hide of a veridi-vorn is a useful component in spells that require particular types of rare plants. It can help them work well if they aren't in precisely the right condition."

"It's very pretty."

She tilts her head. "Yes, I suppose it is."

"You sound unsure, do you not think it's pretty?"

"I suppose I've never thought about it."

"That surprises me."

The Aspen Witch looks up, laying aside the blade in favor of wrapping the hide in a thin red string. "I am curious as to why it surprises you."

"I don't know, I guess I always think about it. Whether or not I think something is pretty."

She hums, glancing around. "I…suppose I'm now curious what else in here you think is pretty."

"Oh, let me look…" Bonnie leans forward, peering around the room. "That stone on top of the shelf, that's pretty. The plant in the corner, the flowers…that bottle, or whatever's in it…"

The Aspen Witch, who had turned to follow Bonnie's description, turns back and doesn't quite startle to see Bonnie looking at her, but the sure movement of her hands falters for just a moment. Bonnie smiles.

"…you."

"Me?"

"Yes," Bonnie says quietly, "you're very pretty."

The Aspen Witch blinks several times and the tips of her hair glows slightly. Bonnie's eyes widen and she laughs in disbelief. The Aspen Witch follows her gaze and shakes herself, the glow fading. "You came here to trade as well. I would like to know what it is you would like."

Bonnie's expression flickers for a second before a smile settles on her face. "I have questions about magic that I would like answered."

"Questions."

"Yes. But I don't exactly trust the magic users in my village and they're not the biggest fans of me."

"I suppose," the Aspen Witch says slowly, "and you would offer something in return."

"Yes, I would."

"What would this be?"

Bonnie leans on her hands, bending slightly over the table until her face is close to hers. "What about a kiss?"

The glow appears at the ends of her hair again. "A kiss?"

"Mhm."

"It seems in bad form for me to accept a trade I have no way of verifying," the Aspen Witch says, "how can I be assured of its value?"

"If you want to sample the goods, then, by all means."

And so, as the soft glow spreads further and further up her hair, the Aspen Witch leans down and presses her lips gently to Bonnie's.

"There," Bonnie murmurs as they break apart, "what do you think that's worth?"

"Not enough for all your questions," the Aspen Witch says softly, "perhaps you will have to pay more."

"That's not a hardship for me."

The Aspen Witch laughs softly, looking around for somewhere to put the hide, and perhaps they would've kissed again had she not spotted Virgil standing in the corner and promptly jerked back.

"Don't mind me," he says, not bothering to hide his laugh as Bonnie jerks and curses, "carry on if you so wish."

"I forgot you were here," Bonnie mumbles, her face in her hands, "oh, gods, that's so embarrassing."

He laughs again, only to see the Aspen Witch flush, mortified, and he takes mercy on them both, holding his hands up.

"You knew," the Aspen Witch accuses, "and that's why you brought her."

"I suspected," he admits, "and I'd rather not sit through however long it took you both to make up reasons to see each other, so I thought I might as well shortcut it."

"You," Bonnie exclaims, standing up and pointing a finger at him, "are the worst."

"That's funny, I could've sworn yesterday you said I was kind."

"I take it back!"

"I'm happy for you both," he says placatingly, smiling softly at them, "really. And yes, I did think something like this might happen if I brought Bonnie with me."

"Thank you, Virgil," the Aspen Witch says, even as Bonnie mutters something under her breath, "I…do not know how to repay you."

"Both of you can repay me by making each other happy, and by letting me know when my calyx is ready because I'm going to be waiting outside."

He chuckles once more as Bonnie hits him halfheartedly on the shoulder, shutting the door behind him and walking down the steps. When he gets to the bottom, he's only slightly surprised to see Roman standing just beyond the edge of the Aspen Witch's property. He walks over, nodding in greeting.

"Is everything okay?"

"If you mean are you safe, then yes."

He frowns. "What's wrong?"

Roman sighs. "Are we—are you mad at us, Virgil? Or are you mad at me?"

Virgil blinks, shocked. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Every time we've tried to see you recently, you've been acting like you're just waiting for us to leave. And I know we messed up with the contract—with Bonnie, but…" Roman sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "I thought we were doing better."

"We are doing better," he says softly, reaching out to take Roman's hand in his, "you've just come at bad times, that's all. I'm not mad at you."

Roman looks down at their clasped hands and nods. After a moment, he looks back up. "Logan told us about your worries with Bonnie," he says quietly, "are you…is it alright?"

Virgil sighs, glancing over his shoulder at the Aspen Witch's house. "I can't tell just yet."

"If you decide it's not okay, or if you need help, will you let us help you? Please?"

Virgil turns back, smiles, and reaches up to pat Roman's cheek. "Yeah, Roman. I will."

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #logan sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #patton sanders

[lythea-creation]

Secret Ally - Platonic Draco Malfoy x fem reader

summary: (f/n) and Draco have been friends since forever. But what happens when they are confronted with the harsh truth of becoming a death eater?

warnings: Angst

word count: 830

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated <3 If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

Requested? Yes

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

I was trapped in an absolute balancing act. No matter how far my gaze went I could not see any way out. It was like standing between two canyons. One wrong step and I would crash into the depth I could not even see the bottom of.

When I had been little I had always dreamt of becoming a strong witch like my mom. As the years passed on and I had joined Hogwarts I became one of the most students at the whole school, fitting the theme of my house: Slytherin.

I loved my family more than anything. Joining Slytherin had been part of my family pride as pretty much everyone of our family had been there. So I was happy about it.

I never questioned it all until my sixth year arrived and the dark lord came into the picture.

My parents revealed their dark marks to me, explained how it was our duty to serve the lord. That this was what I had studied and trained for my whole life.

So I nodded and went along with it.

It was too late when I realized what I had gotten myself into. I never wanted to be someone who brought harm and suffering. I had just wanted to make my parents proud, to become strong to be able to protect the people I loved.

But now I had morphed into a person I did not recognize anymore. One false move could kill me and my family altogether. How was I supposed to get out of this?

“Are you really becoming a death eater?”, I asked Draco one night.

Draco had been my friend my whole life. He was basically part of the family. So it was not unusual for us to hang out late at night together while our classmates were already asleep.

I was a perfectionist. Sleep was not my strongest quality.

“Why are you asking?”, he shot back.

This was a dangerous topic. If I misjudged Draco and he was loyal to the dark lord I might put my whole family at risk. Nevertheless I wanted to trust him.

“I can't do this, Dray. This isn't me”, I confessed.

“Me neither”, he admitted.

“So what are we gonna do?”, I inquired.

“How should I know?”, he shot back. “You're the smart one.”

“That doesn't mean I have an answer for everything”, I noted. “We need to come up with a plan.”

“There is no plan that can work out”, he proclaimed.

“There has to be. Every problem has its solution”, I stated.

“Not this one”, Draco insisted.

“Can you at least try to be more positive?”, I requested.

“How?”, he exclaimed. “There's no way out! We have to go with it if we care about our lives and the ones of our family. Do you seriously think I haven't thought this through? I haven't been thinking about anything else lately. I'm not sleeping. I can barely eat. So don't have the audacity to tell me to be more positive!”

I was speechless at his rant.

Draco could be impulsive, but he had never yelled at me like this before. He was just as exhausted as I was.

“I'm sorry”, I mumbled. “I just don't know what to do.”

“Me neither”, he admitted.

“I guess we don't really have a choice then”, I concluded. “But I won't just stand by and be his puppet.”

“What are you implying?”, Draco worried. “You're not seriously considering what I think you do, right?”

“No, I'm not considering. I just decided it. I want to secretly work for the other side. I can't do all those horrible things in vain. The least I can do is try make up for it the best I can”, I supposed.

“You know that may be even more dangerous than defying him and running away, don't you?”, Draco assured.

“I don't care. If I ran away my family wouldn't accompany me. It's the only way. You won't betray me, will you?”

“We never had this conversation”, he promised.

I flashed him a short smile and playfully punched his shoulder. “You know I want to protect you, too, right?”

“Likewise”, he shot back with a grin. “So look out for yourself. I don't want to get the order to torture or kill you someday.”

“I'll do my best”, I proposed. “No promises though.”

“How could I expect anything else from you? Honestly I always envied your strong beliefs. I'm still wondering how you survived that long”, he noted.

“I'm a fighter. You know that”, I reminded him.

“Oh, right! How could I have forgotten”, he declared dramatically making me laugh.

Without him I would have gotten insane by now.

I knew that no matter what happened I would always have a secret ally, giving me hope even in the darkest times.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #platonic relationships #angst #death eaters

[idontplaytrack]

Stress Reliever

Haley Dunphy x fem oc reader(Eva Bennett)

warnings: MDNI, smut. fwb, oral, fingering, toy use, overstimulation, angst, coarse language, quarrelling/fighting. idk how this idea came about, but here you go.

In which Haley claims that y/n is a purely physical ‘stress reliever’. Chaos ensues.

Like clockwork, Eva would show up to Haley’s house twice a week- on Wednesdays and Sundays usually. That’s when the pair was both free. Sometimes more, though. She wasn’t too sure how she got herself in this situation, but here she was, hooking up with her best friend. It started as a joke- Eva didn’t expect her to be okay with it. But of course, with her living in the basement of her parents’ house, meant that noise was out of the question.

Today was Sunday, so she made her way to Haley’s as usual. Not like anyone really cared- Eva was a senior in college, old enough to take care of herself and make her own decisions. She simply let her Mom know where she was headed, and she was off. Standing on their porch, Eva rang the doorbell. Alex answered the door. “Oh, hey. Haley’s doing homework in her room.”

“Okay, thanks.” Eva nodded, pursing her lips together as she walked past Alex. She said hi to Claire as she headed downstairs.

“Haley?”

“Come on in.” She said, Eva entered, closed the door and locked it.

“You’re late.” She spun around in her swivel chair.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to come.” Eva admitted.

“I’m sorry?” Haley asks, almost as if she was offended.

“Did you forget that just last week, your Dad asked about us and you called me a ‘stress reliever’?”

“It’s just sex.” She said almost too quickly. You felt your blood begin to boil.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have shared our business with anyone?”

“They leave us alone now, don’t they? Why are you mad about it? That’s what we agreed on- no strings attached.”

“I’m your best friend. Shouldn’t you care about how I would feel when you basically told your whole family we’re sleeping together just for the heck of it?” You retorted.

“…I- I’m sorry.” She says after some silence, she rolls her chair closer to Eva and practically yanked her down to her level to kiss her, “I shouldn’t have.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have.” Eva said into the kiss. ‘Shit!’ Eva whispered.

“Let me make it up to you, hm?” She caresses Eva’s cheek, breaking away from the kiss for a second.

“Can I ask you something before we do that?” Eva questioned, breathlessly.

“Yeah.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No. No one.” She tells her, backing her up onto the mattress.

“Okay. Me neither.”

“Okay.” She hurriedly slid Eva’s shorts and underwear off, tossing it somewhere in the room. Seconds later, her t-shirt joins them. Eva did the same for her, right before she flipped her over to switch positions. Things escalated very quickly. This certainly wasn’t their first rodeo.

————

“Haley, wait up.” Claire stopped her once she enters the front door.

“We have some questions for you.” Phil chimed in.

“What?” Asked Haley, cautiously.

“Not that we don’t like her or anything, but why has Eva been over so much more than before?” Claire began.

‘Oh, God.’

“Nothing. We just got closer.” Haley lies.

“Really?” Phil asks.

“What are you two implying?”

“It’s just that we heard some things…”

“What things?”

“A couple days ago. Alex heard…sounds coming from your room that’s making me think that you two are something…more.”

“No one was home the day before, what the hell?”

“Alex came home early. I told her to check if you were home. And clearly, you were- even though you said you’d be out.” Claire added on.

“Okay, fuck it.” Haley snapped, “It’s just stress relief, alright? Purely physical. Ya happy? How is it any of your business anyway? Can you leave us alone now?”

Haley hurried off to her room without hearing their responses. Not even a minute later, Eva was practically hammering her door down, “Haley?!”

“What?”

“I heard all of that.”

————

“Can’t believe you ignored me that night.” Eva scoffs.

“I fucked up, okay? I’m sorry about that.”

“Whatever, yeah.” Eva’s hips bucked as the kiss deepens. “Can I take off your-”

“Mhm.” Haley replies, starting to remove each article of her clothing as Eva helped.

They got each other off and just went about their day, no questions asked. Except today, Haley convinces Eva to take a break from her homework and take a walk with her. “Why?”

“I said I was sorry.”

“So…?”

“Must you be so annoying about this?”

Eva scoffs, “Annoying? Oh, my God. Haley- I cannot believe you would say that about me. I made myself come over here today even though I shouldn’t have. You basically threw my face away and made me seem like a slut to your family. When all I wanted to do for the past month was to muster up the courage to tell you I like you!” With that, Eva tries to run away from Haley but the other girl caught up to her anyway.

“Wait!”

“You don’t like me that way, and that’s fine. I just need some time away from you to get over it.” Eva pushed herself off her and got dressed. She stops her, “No- wait!” “Do you even remember what you did the other night at Charlotte’s party? You convinced me to go and then you just decided to kiss me and not say anything? Acting like nothing happened?”

Haley remembered- she was just avoiding that topic.

“I’m leaving. We shouldn’t even be friends anymore. Sorry doesn’t fix everything, Haley.”

Haley didn’t know what to say…words were caught in her throat as a painful lump formed. So she just left her go, watching as the sight of her became smaller and smaller, seeing the door close, hearing her footsteps depart.

It kept Haley up at night, what she said. Haley knew it was wrong of her to lead Eva on but she couldn’t admit it. She couldn’t admit to herself that she was gay. Overnight, the two became strangers…not acknowledging the other when they passed by the other in the halls at school. Each time it happens, it stung Haley’s heart, just as it does Eva’s but she couldn’t carry on being just friends with the girl- she wanted so very badly to Haley hers, but it didn’t seem possible.

With each passing day, it became easier to coexist. Eva thought she’d went numb- that was the only explanation for it. If she kept thinking about her (she actually did), she wouldn’t driven herself crazy. Was she going crazy? Was this it? “I gotta talk to you. Now.” Haley grips onto her wrist, startling her. “Let go of me.” Eva spoke harshly. “Now.”

“No. We have to talk.” Haley insists. The final bell of the day rings and Eva begrudgingly follows the brunette’s lead.

“Okay, talk.” She yanked her wrist free, “Still nothing?”

Haley’s face definitely showed that she was sad- heartbroken, even. “I’m really sorry for what I did-”

“Yeah, I’ve heard this before, Hales.”

“Before I say anything else stupid,” Haley takes a deep breath, “I like you too. I can��t let my own fear of what people think of me once they know I’m gay, make me lose my best friend.”

————

“The hell are we going?” Eva asks as Haley sped away from the school parking lot.

“To finish what we started the last time we saw each other.” Haley says, gnawing on her lower lip, “Somewhere that we’d have complete privacy.”

“Huh.” Eva raised a brow. “Still a little mad, honey. You’re gonna have to give me more than that.”

“I figured.” Haley shrugs as they pulled to a stop at a stop light. She reaches into her bag she’d tossed into the backseat. “We’ll start here. Put this on.”

Eva laughs in disbelief, “My God, you actually- I did not see this coming.”

“We’re just getting started.” She winks. Seeing that the windows were tinted, Eva felt pretty comfortable having to put the vibrator on. But was she ready? Not yet. “Yeah, I’m gonna need a little help here.” Eva admitted. “I’m driving.”

“I’ll wait.”

Closing the door and hurriedly locking it. “Do we still want to use that now?” Haley asks, referring to the vibrator. “I don’t see why not.” Eva shrugged as she gets pushed up against the wall by Haley. Her lips were not wasting a single second, covering every inch of exposed skin with a kiss. Eva couldn’t take it- she needed her, bad. Every single moment spent away from Haley had her fantasising about what they used to do.

“I don’t think we need it.” Haley chuckles as they broke away, reaching her hand down into the front of Eva’s shorts, pulling them down. Haley watches the string of slick get pulled out along with your underwear, a proud smile now plastered on her face. “Couldn’t wait…baby?” Haley’s hands caressed her back before returning to run a stripe up the juncture between Eva’s thighs. Eva lets out a yelp that lets Haley know she was right. “Feels so damn good to call you that and know that it means something now.” Haley whispers.

That gave Eva crazy butterflies in her stomach, easily making her feel like she was going to go insane if she kept teasing her. “God, Haley. What are you-” Eva was interrupted by Haley’s tight grip on her thighs.

“Be patient.” Haley whispers, “Be a good girl for me, hm?”

Haley licks her cunt teasingly, just shy of the entrance, causing a yelp to emit from her mouth. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re not gonna come until I say you can. And until you’re close, I’m gonna be using just my mouth and my hands. The toy comes in later. That okay with you?”

Eva mumbles incoherently causing Haley to smack her on the ass, “Use your words, otherwise I’m not touching you.”

“Okay, yeah. That’s fine.” Eva lets out a strained response, watching Haley’s hand travel down her side. Satisfied, Haley slowly backs Eva onto the mattress and told her to lay down on her back. “Look at me, sweet girl. Look at me.” Haley hums, tilting her chin up. “Okay.” Eva inhales sharply as she watches Haley straddle her, lowering herself down onto her torso. “You feel that, babe? How wet I am for you?”

“Yeah.” Eva nodded, hands reaching out to grab Haley’s face and kiss her hungrily.

“Uh, no.” Haley chuckles, “You just lay there and look all pretty for me. I’ll do the work.” With that she began to leave a trail of kisses from her jaw all the way down to the middle of her torso. Then, she moves herself further down so she could get to work on her cunt, her fingers traced the mount gently, as though dancing on the sensitive area. Eva feels another rush that stops in between her legs, drawing out a whine from her lips.

Haley’s fingers starts to circle Eva’s clit teasingly slowly while watching her arousal grow and grow by the second. Plunging her middle finger into her, Eva curses. A string of profanities proceeded to come out of her as Haley kept at her pace, eventually slipping in her pointer finger smoothly. Eva’s eyes were barely open or in focus at this point. Haley literally forced her to keep them open. She could feel herself approaching her climax insanely quickly. Planting a gentle kiss on Eva’s clit, Haley pulls her fingers out, almost fully when she feels Eva clenching around her fingers.

“Shit! Haley-” Eva groans, frustrated.

“I know.” Haley crawled her way back up to kiss her on the lips, her teeth barely grazing Eva’s lower lip and giving it a pull. “You’re close. Aren’t you, honey?”

Now with Haley’s ass in her face, Eva helps her get out, fucking her cunt with her tongue, causing all sorts of obscene noises to fall from Haley’s lips and right into her ears like her favourite song. It spurred them both on, determined to bring the other over the edge first. But of course, Haley being the one with the vibrator in her hand- won. “In a second, I want you just let it all go, okay?” Haley requested, not giving the other girl anytime to respond. It barely presses onto Eva’s clit and she unravels, making a mess on the bed that Haley couldn’t care less about. Tears that were pricking at Eva’s eyes also fell at that moment, the relief and pleasure she was feeling made her see stars.

“Keep going, baby. Keep going.” Haley says.

Eva did her best to pick up her pace but having a second climax was making it so very difficult. Haley soon unravels too, with Eva adding her fingers into the mix. But Haley doesn’t stop, her tongue continues to attack Eva’s swollen, sensitive clit, making her cry. “Want me to stop? You can just say the word, my love.”

Eva shook her head.

“No? Alright.” Haley smirks, easily coaxing orgasm number three out. Her back arches right as Haley got off her and held her legs open for easier access.

“Okay, okay.” Eva panted, “That’s good, yeah. Okay, stop.”

“Okay.” Haley stopped immediately when she was told, wrapping Eva in her arms, “You did so good, baby.”

Eva smiled, dazed, “God, I love you.”

“I love you more.”

————

a/n: this took me like, 4 days and i’m still not happy with how it turned out. but okay, it’s done, i guess.

#modern family #haley dunphy #lgbtqia #wlw #reader insert #drama #smut #friends to lovers #original character

[aziraphalalala]

She stepped closer, understanding in her eyes.

“So, he left you… for a job opportunity?”

“Nngggghhhyyeeaaaah, you could say that.”

“Well, good riddance. If he didn’t choose you, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“He kind of does, you know.”

This snippet comes from my first ever fic, "In the bookshop, after". I promised I'd answer any asks with 500 words from anywhere on any fic I've written here, so, here we are. Author rambling meta, served piping hot, coming up!

Why did I write this fic?

This fic, albeit a short one-shot, was written in the emotional aftershock of *points finger at the last 15 minutes of Good Omens S2E6*.

The second season finally unleashed a burst of creativity and a desire to write in me that had been lying in wait for quite some time. Suddenly, I had so many ideas, and I needed to let it all out somehow. I drew. I sang. I wrote shitty poetry. I returned to tumblr to scream about Good Omens with everyone else.

Once I wrote this fic, it was like opening a Pandora's Box. I can no longer stop, nor do I want to. Writing gives me life. I enjoy it so much I am now writing a multi-chapter human AU fic which will end up being around 30,000 words. In less than 2 months.

It's crazy, and glorious.

Anyway, back to this snippet.

The characters, the dialogue, the context

This unnamed lady, who steps in to the bookshop as Crowley is slowly but steadily consuming quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol, has an uncanny way of picking up things she shouldn't be able to.

Crowley and the lady have a conversation which happens on multiple levels, especially for Crowley. He ends up being painfully honest, secure in his knowledge that most of it goes over the head of this random person.

We, the readers, are not sure whether that's truly the case. She appears rather unusually perceptive.

I have plans for that random person, and a whole backstory for her. I might write it one day. That fic would go a long way explaining her side of this conversation.

But for now, we don't really know her, and we leave it at that.

What was I thinking as I wrote this?

This moment, these lines, draw heavily from my own life. I, too, once imagined that love is an emotion that in itself can be enough for a relationship. Experience, sometimes harshly, has taught me that in the end, our actions and choices are more important than our intentions and emotions.

Does this person choose me? Do they prioritize my needs? Do they make an effort, day in day out, to make our relationship work?

This is the lesson the lady wishes to drill into Crowley. And if it were any other person in the world, a friend of mine for example, I'd tell them to move on. Good riddance. They don't choose you, they don't deserve you.

But. Aziraphale and Crowley have been friends, enemies and co-conspirators for six millennia. How does one even begin to define the complexities of their relationship?

Have they not, consistently, worked to keep each other safe, to find short moments together that they can share in secret?

Their relationship is a relationship that thrives despite being forbidden. Despite the fear that's ever present in their lives.

Some word choice trivia.

"Job opportunity" is a very purposeful choice, because it's a slightly revolting business jargon term. It's jarring, seeing it in the context of Good Omens and our two supernatural beings. It implies, heavily, that it's a bullshit opportunity, meaning it's not what it seems to be. It implies that the lady thinks Aziraphale made the stupidest choice on the planet for something that isn't worth it.

Crowley kinda agrees, but not whole-heartedly, because I believe he knows Aziraphale had very little choice in the end.

And, let's face it. Being an angel of Heaven is basically a shitty corporate job that sucks the life and soul out of you.

"He kind of does, you know." This is where the conversation really happens on a few different levels. Since Crowley understands why Aziraphale did what he did (at least in my head), he still has hope that they can be together, in the end. That they are, in fact, fighting the same fight, on the same side.

Finally.

I'll leave it to all of you to decide whether the lady truly knows what's up when we say "She stepped closer, understanding in her eyes."

Does she understand, think she understands, or do we misinterpret her expression? Again, how is she there? How can she just pick up the conversation, and so many details without being told?

One day I hope we'll find out.

Thanks for the ask, anon! This was fun. 😊

#fic asks #author meta #author rambles #author rambles about their fic #seriously won't anyone stop me #i can just go on like this if I please? #amazing #fanfic #my fanfic writing #my fanfic #my fanfiction #my fic writing #good omens #good omens fanfiction #in the bookshop after #lifting eden #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

[daisymakesstuff]

A Nice Night

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: F!Detective (Lauren Jenkins) x Morgan

Read on AO3

Word Count: 973

Rating: Mature [ implied past sexual assault, general sexual content]

Description: A vignette in which Agent Lauren Jenkins tries to give Morgan a casual compliment, and gets a lot more concern than she bargained for. Light Book 3 spoilers.

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

Lauren wakes with a start, breathing heavily.  Another nightmare whose contents have already almost faded from her memory, leaving behind only the physical after-effects. The warmth of the duvet and the sheets clinging to her sweaty skin are too much, so she pushes them off and gets out of bed, catching a glance out the window as she does. 

The sun went down a few hours ago and the temperature is cooling down, turning what was an uncomfortable day into a nice night. Morgan is probably up on the roof tonight. The thought brings her an unexpected amount of comfort. She grabs a hair tie off her nightstand, scrapes her bedhead into a messy ponytail, and plods her way up to the roof. 

“You remember the other night when I went out with Tina and Verda?” Lauren calls. Morgan doesn’t look at her, but she does nod, which Lauren takes as approval to stay. She sits down beside Morgan and pulls her knees into her chest. Morgan takes a last drag of her cigarette before stamping it out, giving Lauren a once-over. The posture is unusual for her. She doesn’t usually lack for confidence and it’s not cold out. 

“When I had to make sure you didn’t die of alcohol poisoning?” Morgan scoffs. “Yeah, I do. What about it?” 

“I woke up with my clothes from the bar on,” Lauren answers vaguely. 

“And? What are you trying to get at here?” 

“Did you put my clothes back on after we had sex?” Lauren asks. Morgan can’t stop herself from laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. 

“That’s the explanation you came up with? You were wearing the same clothes you went to bed in because I put them back on you?” It takes a few seconds for the laughter to fully fade from her voice. “You were drunk. We didn’t have sex.” Lauren stares at Morgan blankly. They’ve had sex in the backseat of her car, in the woods, and in a children’s carnival attraction. They’ve gone to second base in front of her mother. Lauren would probably be knuckles deep inside her right now if she weren’t having such a weird night.

“…why not?” She finally asks. 

“Humans can’t make informed decisions when you’re drunk. You might’ve felt differently in the morning.” Morgan shrugs. Her usual flirtatious smirk spreads across her face, but it’s somewhat half-hearted.  “Besides, you probably wouldn’t have remembered it, and I like to make every time you’re with me a night you’ll never forget.”

Lauren’s eyes spark with interest, but that too is half-hearted. The silence between them is weighty and unfamiliar, but not entirely unpleasant. It gives Lauren time to think about what she really wants to say. 

“You’re always so careful when you touch me,” Lauren mentions, trying, and mostly succeeding, to be nonchalant about it. Morgan raises an eyebrow, glancing meaningfully toward a hickey peeking out from Lauren’s shirt. 

“I think you need a new definition of ‘careful’, Sweetheart.” 

Lauren rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to fire off a quip, but stops herself by rolling her lips together. “Not like that. I just mean–” Morgan’s teasing fades at the seriousness in Lauren’s voice. “You always make sure I want it before you touch me. I appreciate it.” 

Morgan scoffs. “You ‘appreciate it’? Sweetheart, that’s just basic—” Something seems to dawn on her in that moment. Her eyes darken with anger and she looks away with a growl. Her hand balls into a fist, some of the gravel on the roof crushing into dust underneath her grasp. When she snaps her gaze back to Lauren a moment later, her stormy grey eyes inspect her closely. 

Lauren is usually happy to have that gaze on her any time of day, but there’s none of the usual heat to it, only concern. She feels strangely vulnerable underneath it. Seeming to have concluded her inspection, Morgan reaches her arm out, pauses to make sure Lauren is okay with the touch, and slings it over her shoulders so she can pull the detective to her side. Lauren finally unfurls,  shifting to help Morgan bring her close. She doesn’t curl back up again when they settle, seeming content to keep their thighs touching instead. It floods Morgan with relief. 

“I’ll break anyone who touches you without your permission,” Morgan promises. Lauren doesn’t know what to do with the intensity of it.  

“Okay.” Morgan obviously doesn’t buy it, but Lauren doesn’t need her to. She just wants to drop the subject, and she knows exactly how to do that. 

Shifting her weight up onto her knees, she pivots to face Morgan. The gravel bites into her knees, but she’s not planning to be here for very long. She puts her hands on Morgan’s shoulders, pressing back until Morgan takes the hint to lie down. 

Lauren settles her hips between Morgan’s legs, pushing herself up on her forearms so she can stare down at Morgan with a needy, desperate sort of heat. The gravel bites into her skin again, but distributing her weight across her forearms helps. Morgan‘s eyes are dark with lust, and her hips shift underneath Lauren in anticipation. But then a flicker of worry flashes across Morgan’s face. 

Groaning in irritation, Lauren stops bothering to hold herself up, face planting into Morgan’s cleavage and making herself comfortable. Morgan snorts. 

“Feel better, Sweetheart?” she teases. Lauren nods into Morgan’s breasts, and Morgan’s chest hitches with laughter again. One arm wraps loosely over Lauren’s back, the casual touch feeling simultaneously natural and foreign given their current position. Over the next few minutes, Lauren’s breathing slowly deepens and lengthens until Morgan is sure she’s asleep. That hadn’t been what Morgan was going for, but she decides she doesn’t mind staying here for a while longer.

It’s a nice night, after all.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc fanfic #twc fanfiction #twc morgan #lauren jenkins

[twdmusicboxmystery]

End of 11x24, 1-Year Time Jump, Chronology

@wdway:

I have something else that I want to share with you guys that I've been thinking about and doing light research on the last couple of days. I debated whether to give it to you tonight or wait till tomorrow but since Liesel's working tonight and Tarah usually jump on for a while once she get the kids in bed I thought this would be a great opportunity to give it to you.

I will start by saying that the end of the episode Rest In Peace is probably going to haunt me for the next 6 months or so just like FM did with so many questions, so many possibilities. I mentioned the other day how I question if during this one year time jump could Daryl had already been to France? There's no way for us to really know I'm just throwing out speculation and some things that I thought of and want to share with you guys.

At first glance with Connie calling Daryl a cowboy and asking about the frontier we get the impression that Daryl might have been out west. So he could not possibly have been in France. I mean from what we have been told and we know that the powers that be are always very truthful in what they tell us (sarcasm) Daryl will be kidnapped and wake up in France. Wherever he was at least at this moment in time on his return everyone seems to have known where he had been and are happy but not particularly surprised to see him again.

These two words, cowboy and frontier were driving me crazy making me think there's only one possibility he must have gone west, right? The other morning I woke up with a famous line from the old Star Trek TV series. Space the final frontier. No, I'm not implying that Daryl has gone into space or that he is from another planet although Norman does seem a little spacey at times, haha. What the TV show tagline opened my mind to was that the word Frontier could mean something more than just the American Wild West. So back to my best friend Google.

I have to admit I was somewhat sold as soon as I realized that the term Frontier is originally from the French. Frontier does not necessarily mean American West so that part of Connie's greeting to Daryl is left more open-ended. The next part was the word cowboy. Cowboy to me means a male person riding a horse that steers cattle or someone that works on a ranch. 

When I looked up the definition that was basically what the number one definition was. It was the second definition that I found to be more open-ended. Cowboy- someone who is a bit of a renegade and rough. That could definitely describe Daryl. I haven't really solved anything. We still don't know where he was if anything I think I created more questions with no answers. I do want to add that Daryl's reply to Connie question also gives us more questions. Calm for now.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

I really love the stuff about the frontier! The fact that it's French is very compelling. And it really would suggest that the spinoff comes before what we saw at the end of the episode. It would explain why everything was so fast and vague. 

They couldn't give us more without giving stuff and thangs away. When Carol says "this" will be good for both of them, she probably means something very specific that we haven't been made aware of yet. It would also explain what you pointed out about Judith not wanting him to leave, and then suddenly being okay with him leaving.

And of course the "you deserve a happy ending, too" line. If any of this ends up panning out--and I understand it's still a big if--it's giving me head canons about Judith having already met Beth in some capacity, and that line specifically referring to her, but of course they couldn't tell the audience that just yet. 

The other thing I thought of when reading through your frontier stuff is the New Mexico symbolism. I know we've talked about what that might represent, but that state is defintiely west of Georgia and D.C., so it too might have been representative of some sort of frontier. Just a thought.

@wdway:

Thanks. I'm pretty pumped about this even though it's just speculation it legitimately opens up a different possibility of where he had been. For most people if they even question where he had been they're just going to assume it's had something to do with going west maybe a nod to the Daryl and Carol spin-off that was originally planned. Tptb love to do this type of thing, they tell us something that seems very straightforward but in closer examination it actually very crooked.

@galadrieljones:

You also said something above that really intrigued me, the idea that Judith may know about Beth or have some idea about her based on where Daryl has been. The last person who left was Michonne, Judith’s mom, going out to find Rick, the Brave Man, Judith’s dad, and the love of her life. 

When Judith says this, it seems like she’s referring to finding love, as that is the one thing that Daryl hasn’t found yet. So like I’m intrigued now. What if Judith knows something? What if the spin-off begins with the thing Judith knows? We’ve discussed the possibility of him having gone back to Atlanta, maybe finding a lead. BUT I don’t believe he’d be so cool and calm and collected if that were true. 

It seems like a lot of time would have had to have passed for him to be so calm, if the thing he’s going back out to look for is Beth. But idk. It’s a good theory. Ann I love the research on frontier. The idea of it being borderlands made me also think of Canada, and the mad man that Davon met in the woods, but it’s just speculation. Ultimately I do feel like maybe when Daryl comes back, it’s sort of known what he has to do. It’s accepted. That’s very curious.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

Yeah, it’s for sure intriguing. Okay, get ready for some very head-cannonish musings. ;D I keep going back to the Alone template, and the idea of Daryl and Beth connecting before going to look for Rick. So, let’s just say for kicks that the spinoff happens before what we saw at the end of the episode after the 1-year time jump. I was thinking that it’s looking less and less like Judith or whoever being kidnapped being a thing…but is it? 

As you said, there seems to be some things that have happened between them that we didn’t see. Like her being okay with him leaving and talking about how he deserves a happy ending. And when he comes to the CW, we see him hug Connie, but not Judith. As though maybe they haven’t been separated as Connie and Daryl have been. We see Judith sitting in the crowd where Zeke gives his speech, but that doesn’t mean she’s been living at the CW. Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe she just arrived. 

That could explain why 1) Negan sends her the compass. If she’s travelled a bit and is returning, maybe Negan sends it to her for that reason. 2) All the reunions. She hugs Gracie like they haven’t seen each other in a while. And just the fact that it shows reunion after reunion after reunion in this sequence might be hinting at something. 

Anyway, again this is total head canon, but what if it ends up being something very close to what we thought, where Daryl chases Judith and ends up in France that way. If he stumbles upon Beth there, then Judith would meet her and observe interactions between Beth and Daryl. (Side note: it would also explain the setup of Norman, Emily, and Cailey together on the red carpet. Just saying.) 

But then maybe Beth and Daryl decide to split up at the end of the spinoff. Not in a permanent way, but whatever happens, he’d want to take Judith home, and maybe she has stuff she needs to take care of. So, the idea is to meet somewhere at some future point. Maybe inside the CRM. Maybe at this point they have even more suspicions on where Rick and Michonne might be. 

Hence Daryl’s line to Judith about how if he finds either Rick or Michonne, he’ll bring them home. Then he goes to look for his brother (just like in the Alone template; just like in the Find Me template). And if Judith observes Beth and Daryl together at all, I feel like it would be more than enough to spur the line about him deserving a happy ending. 

Judith is savvy enough and reads people well enough that, even if she doesn’t understand all the complexities of Beth and Daryl’s history or how complicated it might be in the present with the threat of the CRM and everything, she would still recognize that there are feelings there and that it would worth it, in terms of Daryl’s happiness, for him to figure it out. So again, no idea if this is how it will play out at all. I’m just saying if it did, I would be perfectly content with that.

@wdway:

I'm back with more ramblings. There was something about one of your comment this morning, @twdmusicboxmystery, that sparked an idea about Daryl and Carol's relationship and what the conversation they had at the end of the episode might be about. Just want to state that I know there is a likelihood that I am totally off base about all of this but since when has that ever stopped me from speculating. Like usual we won't know until we know. 

With all of that being said I'll starting with the theory that during the 1 years jump Daryl left the CW maybe because of something to do with Judith not sure but after all the times that they drilled it in our heads that Judith greatest fear was of Daryl leaving her to go hunt for her parents. 

I full confident that he did not leave her behind it seems more likely that he was going after her, searching for her for some reason. Somewhere along the way him realizing that Beth is alive. Maybe he found some objects of hers like her boots, her necklace or her diary just like Michonne found Rick's but for whatever reason he knows Beth is alive. They might have even have seen her or heard her voice. 

Whatever it was Judith's became aware of Dary's feelings for Beth. And whatever happened at some point the community back home knew about it before he arrived back. I would not be surprised if it was some form of communication over the radio since they had established in s9 there being radio communication between the communities. 

For whatever reason if it was to bring Judith back or he returned after her he came back to reconnect before he was going to leave again this time alone to search for Beth. This would be the third time he would have lost Beth. The first was the funeral home in s4. The second time at Grady in s5 when he thought she was dead so this would complete this third search and would fulfill the rule of 3. With all of this in mind let's look at Daryl and Carol's conversation.

This was probably obvious to everyone except me but it really hit me today that if Carol had been with Daryl instead of Judah it would have been a replay of Consume. That's what he's talking about here, he wished that Carol could be with him to search for Beth just like she was when they went to Atlanta and found Beth at Grady.

I believe Carol is telling Daryl this is something he needs to do alone, that this is his search, his place to find Beth. She realizes that they are too codependent on each other and she needs to establish her own life just as he does. In essence it's the mom/big sister in Carol kicking the son/little brother out of the house because it time to live his own life.

Daryl is proud of Carol because after this length of time she is still in the same place. She has not run away like she did every time things get a little rough. In the past she would just leave but now she's making a commitment to the community to Ezekiel to stay. Daryl is not running away either he's running towards something good for himself the hope of happiness.

An acknowledgment that distance is not going to lesson their friendship. That no matter the distance between them physically they will always be close. It is not the end it's just a pause in time until he returns.

That's my interpretation of the conversation between Daryl and Carol.

I want to take this opportunity to say something about the exchange between Daryll and Judith. Apparently there's a lot of people that think that he's leaving to actively search for Rick and Michonne. I did not take it that way at all.

My interpretation of what he is saying is while I'm out searching for Beth if I hear anything or see anything about your parents I'll bring them home along with Beth.

You deserve to find Beth and be happy and I would be happy for you.

That's my happy ending for the finale.

@galadrieljones:

First, I totally agree that what Daryl says to Judith makes it sound like he’s going to accomplish something else, but that while he’s “there” (wherever that is), if he happens to find them, he’ll bring them home, too. Judith reply affirms that whatever Daryl is going off to do, it’s for HIMSELF, not for her or for Rick anymore, and she wants him to know that this is valid, and it’s okay, and he deserves this.

I have this exactly in my notes from the episode.

@wdway:

To be fair the general audience is clueless about Beth and Daryl's continual feelings for her or the possibility that she could be alive. For them him going out would have to be in search of Rick and Michonne.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

Agreed! Love it! I love that we're all on the same page with this. It's really the only thing that makes sense. 

@galadrieljones:

I really like what you said about Consumed. In Consumed, the only reason Daryl is out there with Carol is because he accidentally stumbles upon her right as she’s about to run away. She then goes along with him to search for Beth because she gets sucked in and she can’t say no. It’s their codependent thing. 

But this time, she’s not getting sucked in, because its just not her journey. It’s Daryl’s and he needs to do it alone, because she has her own life now, and she’s NOT running away, just like you said, and by not going with him, she’s acknowledging that they have their own paths, and that this is good for them. Like I said Daryl and Carol have always had this codependent thing, going back to Sophia.

This also informs Find Me, when she kept trying to pull him back to her, because he was clearly unwell. Now he’s clear. And she is, too, and they don’t need to be so dependent on one another anymore.

@wdway:

Exactly! You said it very well. I think we're all on the same page about their relationship. Loving friends, best friends forever but they have been codependent most of their time together.

I'm really looking forward to Fear this season. I think a lot of their story will be laying the groundwork for what might be happening in the other spinoffs.

@galadrieljones:

I personally like the prospect of her somehow showing up on Fear. Like for Morgan to find her or to unwittingly run into some sign of her. He is following the codas on the trees. By bringing Fear closer to Daryl’s story, they create more incentive for fans of the flagship to watch Fear. 

Enticing viewers of the flagship must have been a somewhat major part of why Gimple put Morgan and Dwight in the show. If Madison’s enterprise somehow leads to Beth, or even just a glimpse of her, that would be so interesting. And it would offer tptb the opportunity to contextualize Daryl’s spin-off in a way that is more specific. 

The thing is, now is the perfect time for tptb to shake things up. They need to retain viewers as well as to drum up new ones and also maybe even try to being back old fans who left many seasons ago. Bringing back Beth now would be a perfect way for them to accomplish this. 

Also, because it’s past the confines of the flagship, and we’ve now had Tales and it’s bizarre rules and structural anomalies and non-linear plots, I think the audience, a combination of newly acquired and invigorated fans as well as old reliables and die-hards, would be intrigued by Beth’s return, and curious about how she survived, whereas had they brought her back in the flagship, you’d just have Carylers loudly pissed off and harassing ppl on the internet. We’re in a clean slate now, and anything can happen.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

[ut-girl666]

Okay, okay. So we have (basically) canon Poet!Megatron. but, hear me out here - what about Author!Megatron?? Like, writes books, not just poetry.

Personally, I think of Fantasy Genre being what he writes, and he ends up with a good couple books. And like, they’re really well written. Beautiful plot, fantastic characters, gives plenty of development to each of them, and whole arcs, usually completed before the book ends.

Even better; he specifically tries to make them LGBTQ+ friendly. He makes lots of diverse fun characters, with different identities of all kinds. Particular interesting thing he does specifically for his repulsed readers, is he actually warns when there will be smut or something close in a chapter. This is because he’s a Repulsed!AroAce. And further more, when scenes like that actually happen (not in the first two, only implied), he actively admits, no, he didn’t write them, one of his ‘editors’ did.

He also tends to write his books with lots of warnings, and usually puts a page between each chapter, specifically so readers aren’t immediately tossed into something they weren’t alright with, because he knows that people have trauma, and PTSD, because he does himself, and doesn’t want to put his readers into a bad spot, because of his writing. He’s a very friendly writer.

And now into the funnies of Author!Megs.

One day Elita drags him onto Twitter and Tumblr. He effectively does normal twitter stuff, and he talks to some fans/readers, lets them ask stuff, etc. Tumblr, he talks, interacts a little more, and reblogs a lot, he also has a few little blogs - one for reblogging things, one for just his own talking and stuff (inc when he comments on his weblogs outside of tags - those go on both.), one where he is magical author man. Readers can talk to him there, and see when he makes new content just for fun. They love it!

And when they do the asking, it depends which he’s on. Twitter - he’s serious, mature, and very adult. Tumblr - it’s like he looked at his full ass inbox, and did some drugs before answering them. He is so fun on Tumblr.

“You said [Character] does [Hobby] in the first book, and they still do in [Later book]. Did they get any better?”

Twitter Megs: It depends. Time may only tell if they did. Full answer on tumblr - [link]

Tumblr Megs:

lol they still suck ass.

Also, Elita, being an Artist on Tumblr with her own characters, world, lore, and stuff, knows him. She loves to make him things, and has read his books. She likes them. Eventually once Ariel and Orion were bondmates, and she started having to spend more time with him (Orion and Megs shared a house for like, their v. of six years, basically- and they were gonna be in-laws, gotta learn to get along with the family. kinda. at least for dinner.), they got along. She became his beta-reader for the third book, and his editor. (She suggested the smut, and wrote it. The explicit part is on her tumblr/ao3, megs didn’t let that go through, only suggestive/implied! He got really hot and bothered by it… in the negative way. He likes it, until the actual sex. Then *scream* SLAM! So it all goes on ao3.)

She also stands up for him when people steal his shit. He doesn’t really do much besides say ‘hey, please don’t copy/steal my stuff’, as he’s new to the internet. She’s been around since he was fourteen, and she used to be like that, but now she’s aged up, and she will not tolerate theft!! So she screams it from the rooftops, and alerts people “hey! They steal/copy other ppl’s content! Stay away from them! >:(.” it’s something she does for a lot of people, and Megs is included bc she knows that just like her, he hold his blorbos close and dear to his heart.

Ppl also hate him in the second book/prequel, he does the thing, and kills a character for the first time, especially one that had become so beloved!! He didn’t like doing it. He cried, a lot. He hated having to bring them back home to him. But he happily put them out into the world for ppl to make fics about them.

That being said, he doesn’t like it when people make fics where they mess with specific established stuff (sexuality, race, etc.), but otherwise, if it’s just an AU (Cafe!AU, Royalty!AU, Highschool!AU, etc.), other little things, (fluff, angst, etc.), or even something else (fix-it fic, song-fic, slice of life, how a pair may have got together, etc.) he loves them!! He loves all of that, to see people being inspired, tossing his babies into scenarios, making what-if?s about them, maybe letting them have a break with some fluff, or whatever! It’s his favorite! And he loves to scroll and see the things. So every time his kills a character, he puts a tag around their neck, and gives them back to the fan base to play with.

I’m begging you lot, think about it!! Just an idea, but what if?! Wouldn’t it be fun?

#transformers #memes #maccadam #megatron #au idea #elita one #orion pax #ariel #writer megatron #author megatron

[twelvedaysinaugust]

Did he mention being sick and like he’s happy to be back? Did he interact a lot with people? I’m glad he’s okay ❤️

Also I don’t understand the ask about Louis calling Harry his brother and mentioning his son as telling? What does it mean in regards to him telling us how his life is? 🤔 Are you thinking he really sees Harry as a brother and that’s all, and that’s why he said that?

Harry did not say one word about being sick! But overall he really seemed okay. The show was not like this TikTok, I promise. He’s been turning away from the mic to cough at every show and I even remember him doing that during the 1D days. I hope all is well, though, because I do think he has a habit of just pushing through.

But to answer your second question regarding this post. In the tags of another post where I talked about the idea that Louis wants to be understood but has no problem lying, I said something like: “But sometimes I think he’s trying to lie a little less.” And I think that’s basically what the anon was getting at. Perhaps the way Louis is approaching promo is his way of opening the door a crack. He does have a relationship with Freddie - whether fans want to admit it or not. And that’s part of Louis’ life, too. So maybe his life does look like spending time with Freddie in LA and having Harry attend some of his shows.

In this context, I’m also mildly intrigued by Louis mentioning Harry by name in interviews and implying some kind of ongoing relationship and communication between them. I don’t think it’s unprecedented and especially with the “brother” comment it’s clear that Louis isn’t suggesting the relationship is romantic. But it’s something I’m curious about and keeping my eye on. I think the anon was suggesting that, if Harry and Louis are in a relationship and if, for example, Harry attending Louis’ shows is a part of Louis’ life, then this was a way for Louis to include Harry in the narrative. But I’ll need more evidence before I’m convinced this is what’s happening.

Regardless, Louis recently released an album with romantic themes - not all of which neatly align with the Elounor narrative - and he never connected those songs to her during promo. That’s a major shift compared to the promo for Walls. And I don’t feel like most people have grasped how intriguing that is.

Admittedly, a great point of curiosity for me is this shift in promo coinciding with Louis saying this tour and the fan support really made an impression on him. I desperately want to know what part of this fan/artist connection feels so special to Louis. I’m sure he appreciates the support for his music and solo career but I can’t help but wonder if it’s more than that.

#I think there's multiple things going on #with the Freddie mentions #with Eleanor #none of this is happening in a vacuum #but what Louis seems to be doing #really makes a lot of sense to me #this answer did not turn out exactly the way I wanted #probably because I have a million thoughts on this topic #but I'm posting it anyways

[hazbinextgeneration]

Safe Haven’s Angel Book1 Ch53

(Warning: Mention of character death/implied character death.)

It had been a few days since that day. She had been through a full blown panic attack which lasted the entire way back which took longer since Ms. Carrie RIPPED Miracle's father a new one with ...language she'd rather not repeat. Had to find everyone who ran off and herd them all back onto the bus. AND drive all the way back to school on top of calling her parents who rushed over faster than expected and were filled in. Before consoling here and taking her home where...well most of the time she had been just laying holed up in bed and just...taking all in that happened. Her parents would give her food and her friends would swing by to give her her homework and let her copy her notes so she wouldn't fall behind on grades to which she did do to take her mind off things but other than that she'd basically been on autopilot. Speaking of which it was about time that Cappuccino or Miracle stopped by to drop off her homework and she could already hear footsteps walking towards her door. Her parents must've given one of her friends the go ahead to come up to her room and when they knocked she answered in a monotone voice.

"Come in."

She stayed curled up in the blankets as the door opened and someone shuffled inside and over to her bed where she laid expecting to hear the voice of cap- "Hey, Sleepyhead. Your dad said you were up here."

In an instant her eyes popped open and her head poked out the blankets seeing a grey blurry image of a person above her. She scrambled to reach out a hand to snatch her glasses from the night stand and plop them back onto her face. And slowly the form of none other than Crossbones appeared before her as he softly smiled down at her....and a squeak left her throat making him chuckle.

"C-Crossbones!?," She squeaked sitting up quickly and staring at him as he stood there. "W-W-What are you doing here?!"

He answered her by holding up a small binder. "Mirry n' Cap are a bit busy with family drama. So the teach asked me to drop these notes off for you....And if I'm being honest." His hand leaned up to rub his cheek. "I just...wanted to see if you were alright too."

Vikki continued to stare at him before looking away with a sigh. "Thanks but I'm fine." She reached out and took the binder from him. "And thanks for this. I'll be fine from here-"

"Was that vampire really your uncle?," he asked and watched as she paused for a few seconds processing what he just asked before snapping up towards him wide eyed. "I heard what he said to you when Indy was holding him off. And ..he did look kinda like your dad. Is that why you're upset?"

"I-...W-Why would you just ask me something like that!?"

"Because I'm scared for you." His blunt answer got her to shut up for a moment from the sheer honesty as he tilted his head. "I haven't been able to see you for a while and I was really worried. We're all pretty worried about you, Vick. ...What's going on? Who was that guy?"

Vikki still looked at him for a long long moment until she completely deflated and sighed. "......How much do you want to know?"

"As much as you're willing to tell me. ....I promise not to tell the others if you don't want too, Vick. And you don't have to tell me if you don't want too. I won't pressure you too. I just want to make sure you're ok."

She remained silent for a very, very long moment before she sighed...and spoke. "Y-Yeah. H-He's my ...'Uncle' Simon. But I haven't seen him in years!" She shivered. "And I don't want to ever see him again."

".....Why was he after you?"

".....I don't know. I haven't seen him since the-......T-The incident."

"What incident?"

"....Crossbones. Do you remember that car accident I got into a long time ago in elementary school?" He nodded. "In the hospital, they said I probably wouldn't make it. But then my Uncle came in and..." her eyes widened again as she shivered and a hand reached up to clutch her shoulder. "He....b-bit me....I guess something about that helped my body heal because I'm here now. B-But I SWEAR I don't know why he came back!"

"So....You're like part vampire or something?"

She furiously shook her head no before looking back at him. ''N-No! You can only change into a vampire if the vampire wanted you too or if you're born one. Thank god neither happened to me but....I still don't know why. And I think I'd rather not know."

"...Does anyone else know about this?"

"Just my parents. And my Uncle Lenny. ....And you now. B-But PLEASE DON'T TELL ANYONE!!"

Crossbones held up his hands to her worried face. "Hey. I already promised I wouldn't! And you know I would never break a promise to you or anyone else."

She stared at him a moment longer before she sighed in relief. "T-Thank you."

"Uh yeah. No problem."

An awkward small silence passed between the two of them now that the tense air was aired out and only broken when Crossbones gestured to her work binder.

"H-Hey. Mr. Turquoise assigned me the same work. Do you wanna...work on it together?"

She remained silent for a long moment before she nodded. "Y-Yeah...I think I'd like that a lot."

***********************************************************************************************

She didn't WANT to talk to him. And Miracle made that very, very, VERY clear whenever the two would come across one another. Never answering the door when Fitch knocked no matter how much he knocked. Never answering him and giving him the silent treatment whenever he did try to engage or if it came to it, literally flying out the window just to avoid him all together when he literally tried to stop her to try to talk to him. Cappuccino wasn't doing much better as she refused to help talk to him when he asked and had even gotten into a fight with her Uncle Hatchet. They were close. Fitch NEVER got into a fight with Uncle Hatchet. Yet he did once he showed back up. After she had returned how absolutely breaking down into her worried Aunt and Uncle's arms and explaining through sobs and tears what her father had done. She still remembered how much he tore into her father when he got home. She didn't remember all of it. But some of it.

"You allowed Miracle to date someone without informing me! Let alone a demon from hell! And even worse someone who works for the Devil himself!?"

"You tried to KILL him! How else was she supposed to react!? We knew you would've taken this way too far! And you're lucky the Peacekeepers managed to smooth things over with them or else it could've been your dam job!"

"So you all were ok with just lying to me!?"

"We weren't going to tell you until Miracle felt safe! Clearly you don't respect her boundaries or trust her to make her own decisions!"

"He's a demon-"

"IS THAT REALLY YOUR ONLY EXCUSE!? That the kid just so happened to be a demon!? One that I'll remind you is allowed to BE HERE! Is everyone who happens to be a demon really worth killing to you!? Malcom's wife is a demon! Are you going to go galivanting off and kill your brother's wife because she's one?! Mavric is half demon! Are you telling me that our own nephew isn't safe from his own dam uncle because you're going to kill him for something he can't control?!" Her father didn't answer him after that. "GO ON! Tell me! He's a demon! She's a demon! Whether you like it or not you're related to some and they're related to you! Does that make them a walking bullseye to you too or are they the only exception because they're family?! Does Miracle have to worry about her own Auntie and cousin? Or her classmates? Or god forbid any friends she makes too who happen to be demon too! Or are you forgetting that 'demon' saved a girl's life from a Vampire attack, Fitch! Did you just chose to skim over that bit because your projecting onto others!?"

Then there was more silence before Fitch did dare speak again. "She's my daughter."

"For fucks sake, Fitch! You've barely even ever been in her life! You've never seen her first dance or seen her grow up! You don't even know what her favorite color is do you? ...Face it. You've always put your work before everyone. Your wife, me, our brothers, and ESPECIALLY Miracle! She's going to be eighteen in a couple years and mark my words, if you don't do something to make it right she's going to cut you off if you keep pushing her away and treating her like a small plant who can't even take care of themselves! Because whether you like it or not you fucking messed up. BIG TIME!''

And thus had lead to now. She had just been sitting there. Doing homework, or rather trying to do homework. She was lucky Indigo wasn't angry at her or her family and his parents seemed to be ok too after he talked to them. But she still couldn't get that image out of her head or the anger out of her feelings. But what she wasn't expecting was the door to be suddenly open and her turning around expecting Cappuccino and instead seeing her father there. Looking down at her ...before slowly closing the door behind him. She stared surprised for a moment before scowling, antenna pressing against her head, before turning away from him.

"GO. AWAY. I don't ever want to talk to you again."

"I realize that...And I'm sorry."

"You've said that already," she growled out through clenched teeth still not looking at him.

"I know."

"Then why are you here?"

".......Do you want to know why I have a disdain for demons?"

There was a silence as Miracle paused for a moment, letting the words of her father sink in for a moment, before she slowly looked towards him confused. "......What?"

He slowly walked over and when she didn't protest sat down on her bed next to her desk before looking at her. "Would you like to know why I have a deep passion for hating demons so much?" He tilted his head. "Have I ever told you?" .....She slowly shook her head. "Well. I think it's about time I did. If you wanna know." To answer him she fully turned to him brow raised more in confusion as he suck in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "This.......Isn't something that's easy for me to talk about, but considering what I have done I-....You deserve some kind of answer for why I did what I did."

"......Why did you attack Indigo?"

".....Did you know I fell in love with someone? Before I even met your mother." Miracle's eyes widened and her brows shot up in surprise as he finally looked at her. "Long before I even met your mother and definitely long before you were even born I fell deeply in love and married a woman. I loved her very, very much. Just like I love you and your mother now. But we weren't able to stay that way."

"....Why?"

"Around fifty years ago now, that woman was killed by a demon." Miracle fell silent. Staring at him and letting him see the shock on his face. "But that's not the only reason I despise them either." She blinked again. "Before your cousin was born, Hatchet and Eve were also attacked and nearly killed by a demonic beast in the forest as well. Within those fifty years not only was my first wife taken away from me by those unholy beasts, but I also nearly lost my brother and his wife as well. That's why I hate them. I can't stand the sight or thought of them. To me the things responsible for my family's pains shouldn't even be close. That's why I was....emotional when I learnt what you were up to."

Miracle remained silent still staring at him before she scowled again. "That doesn't excuse what you did!"

"I'm not using it as an excuse," he clarified calmly, "And I don't expect you to forgive me for anything I've done. I only wanted to talk to you and hopefully start doing something right by you. Miracle...I can't control what you do with your life. That was my mistake. My burdens and hatred aren't yours to carry. And I'm sorry if I ever let that cloud my judgement and make me act in selfishness towards you. Can you forgive me?"

Miracle still stared at him before sighing and looking down. ".....I don't know if I can."

"That's alright. I don't expect you too and I won't push you too. I just wanted to let you know I'll respect your boundaries me and that.....I love you. And I'm sorry."

She remained silent and he took that as his sign to leave. Getting up and walking back out the door. Ending his visit with clicking it shut behind him.