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alarainai · 8 months

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'enlighten me, my dear. why am i even here?'

for @industrations, we suffer together. always.

His right side aches, limbs giving out from fatigue and pain. Next to him, Tonks slumps to the ground and he feels a deep sense of loss. His last best friend has been taken from him. It distracts him enough that Dolohov catches him with a stray curse, and he winces.

Despite spending most of his years away from civilisation, Remus feels a pang of fear. He’s never wanted to die alone.

Another spell hits him square on the chest, and he flies backwards, hitting the stone wall of the castle. His ears ring, and sounds of battle fade out around him. Nausea rushes through him in waves. He searches for his wand blindly in the debris around him, his body is unwilling to cooperate; out of exhaustion or terror, he’s not quite sure.

Typical feelings of self-loathing wash over him. When will he ever do anything right? Will there ever be a person he can save?

His answers come in the form of a ghost and a shiver up his spine. The man in his dreams who scarcely leaves him alone, his biggest failure, his biggest fear.

“Moony,” a whisper. Remus closes his eyes and wills it away, “Moony. My Moony, it’s okay.”

“You’re not real,” Remus mumbles back to the darkness, his voice breaking around the words, “You can’t be- I can’t do this.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and Remus hopes his hallucination has left him alone. But then he feels a feather-light touch to his cheek, warm and kind. His fear dwindles, love and trust remain. But he keeps his eyes closed, even when he feels another head resting against his own.

“Pick up your wand, Moony.”

“I can’t-”

“You can. You need to fight. You need to live,” the voice insists, disorientated and fading, “For Harry. For Teddy. For me.”

The last words cause his eyes to open, blurry with unshed tears. But even in the midst of chaos and his own terrible sight, Remus is able to make out the familiar face of Sirius Black. He’s younger, untouched by his years in Azkaban, and smiling as carefree as he did in their Hogwarts years.

He’s also mildly translucent, which would be unsettling if Remus hadn’t been craving Sirius’ touch from the moment he lost him.

He reaches up, his hand meeting air. Sirius smiles in sympathy.

“You’re not here.”

Sirius shakes his head, “I’m always here with you.”

“I can’t – Padfoot. Sirius-”

“You can and you will,” Sirius replies, narrowing his eyes, “Our Moony isn’t a quitter.”

“I think you’ll find your Moony is very experienced in quitting.”

That earns a laugh. And God, Remus has missed that laugh. He’s missed everything.

The late-night conversations in the dark corners of Grimmauld Place, the drinks and make-shift meals that always burnt cos neither of them had a cooking skill between them. Stolen kisses in Hogwarts corridors, plans of marriage and a future that they never got to have.

A life that was pulled away from him, all because of this damn war.

Remus replies weakly, “I want it to end. I want – I miss you.”

Sirius’ eyes soften, calm facade slowly crumbling.

“I miss you, always,” he mumbles in response, “But I’m not important. It’s the ones still living who need you now.”

“You’re not even real, what do you know?”

Another laugh, even if it’s a little sadder now. Remus tries to reach for him again; this time, he feels something. A slight chill in the space in front of him, a distinct feeling of not being alone. His eyes widen, and he wonders if he’s already dead. If he’s gone mad.

Sirius brushes another hand across his face, “Fight, Moony. Live for me.”

“It hurts,” Remus confesses, “It always hurts.”

A scream breaks him out of his trance, although he clings to the space in the air in case Sirius vanishes. Remus glances over and sees Ginny Weasley fighting with all her might.

And losing.

He thinks of Molly, Arthur, and the Weasley family as a whole, experiencing that loss. He imagines if he lost Teddy in that way. His chest aches. A desire to help rises up again.

If he can just save someone.

Remus looks back at Sirius, who watches him with affection he doesn’t think he deserves. Kind eyes that experienced so much and lost too many. If he is real – and Merlin, Remus hopes he’s real – he doesn’t want to add to that casualty list.

Even if it means he can’t be with him. Not yet, anyway.

“I love you,” Remus says, “I always have. I’ll love you in whatever comes next. Just wait a little longer for me.”

Sirius chuckles, “I’ll wait an eternity,”

Another scream. Remus drops his hand and ignores the absence in his chest the moment he no longer feels a phantom touch against his skin. He closes his eyes again, just once, and clings to the hint of warmth against his lips, the love confession in the passing breeze.

When he opens his eyes, Sirius is gone.

Remus picks up his wand.

And he fights.

#indi indi indi #i love you #don't send me tiktoks and expect there not to be consequences #wolfstar #a hint of remus/tonks but they're just besties #war and death under the cut i guess but it's about the pining #THE PINING AND LOSS

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silversupremacy · 26 days

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had a moment of weakness (hmmm woamn....)

#my art #inanimate insanity #ii candle #just a hint of gay pining #just a little

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krillford · 1 year

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Someday, I'll show you

a light show you'll never forget

#billford #lol when your ex #stanford pines #bill cipher #doobles #sometimes i think about Bill dropping hints about his incoming invasion because hes cocky enough to #in the show hes always telling the characters what hes about to do #and chooses what not to say #what if ford misinterpreted those hints as funny endearing things his whimsical muse says #lmao im sorry grunkle ford #ya just got billed

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rystiel · 10 days

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wait hang on i knew jack & ianto would end up together but i didn’t realize it would happen so fast 😭 felt like all of their development happened off-screen in s1 i was lowkey expecting more like… relationship build up

#just started s2 #waiter where’s the longing glances and pining i ordered #tosh took all of the pining screentime for herself trying to get owen to take a hint 💀💀#like not to complain. jack & ianto are cute i like them but i love when ships have more hints before they get together yknow 😭#in s1 ianto was focused on his cybergirlfriend then when she died it was implied that he & jack spent some time together off screen #but ?!!#we don’t get to see that? 😭#yknow what i mean ?????#torchwood #janto #sorry guys </3 #don’t mean to diss the best torchwood ship rn #likeeeee to be fair.#relationships do happen pretty fast in this show #BUT !!!#i don’t tend to care too much for them until i see more development and whatever #yknow #??#i’d love to have a YES FINALLY !!!! moment when characters get together #💀💀💀#jack asking ianto on a date and ianto being like …r u asking me out rn??? was a cute development moment tho i’ll give them that #and then we didn’t even get to see it happen </3

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findafight · 1 year

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I am so mad at myself. After writing in the tags "#not spn au just supernatural ok OKAY" on my supernatural au/human Steve au post. I am cursed with thinking of a cw supernatural au for human Steve au. Horrible. My fantasy mechanics work different than the show but fuck it if I'm not thinking about John Winchester sidling up to Hawkins, two boys in the back of the impala, a couple weeks after spring break of '86. Comes in cocksure and confident. It's a small town, someone had to have seen something, even if they had a witchhunt for some poor sap.

He meets the newly reinstated chief of police, (unclear why he was removed if everybody he's talked to loves the guy, calls him a hero and all that shit) and asks about the deaths. John's had a few years to work out the kinks in getting law enforcement to tell him about the weird shit that happens so he's not too worried about this Hopper guy.

He walks into the office and, well. Chief Hopper looks like shit. Sunken cheeks and sallow skin, the guy looks like he escaped prison more than anything. But. John can be polite. He introduces himself. Tries to ask some...subtle questions.

Cheif Hopper isn't taking the bait. Keeps twitching his nose, brows drawing lower and lower. At some point, he leans towards John, and there's a brief, instinctual, second of fear that runs down his spine, before the chief shrugs. Says "I've gotta make a call. I think I know who you're looking for."

John isn't asked to leave the office so he doesn't, just listens as the phone rings.

Someone answers and the cheif says "it's Hop. We've got a...visitor at the station. Figured you'd like to talk to him."

Some talking on the other end. And Cheif Hopper, who has, the entire time John has been in Hawkins, looked no more than fifteen seconds away from growling, huffs a laugh.

"seriously Harrington, I'd say you're the one with the expertise this fella's looking for"

A pause, muffled noise.

"good. Drive safe out there, kid. Oh! And might want to bring that book of yours, hm? See you soon."

The two sit in silence. John feels like he should recognize the name Harrington, he's definitely heard it before, but can't place it for the life of him. The door of the office swings open, revealing a... Teenager.

The kid wears a pastel polo, hair coiffed, highwaisted jeans, and is carrying the largest book John Winchester has ever seen.

He plops it on the desk, Cheif Hopper shuffling papers aside.

"so," he says, pushing his hair back and placing hands on his hips, "why'd you need me to bring this fucking thing here for? Besides the shady looking guy, obviously."

Well. So much for convincing the kid he's from the feds, probably. Couldn't hurt

John shrugs. "I was just asking the Cheif here if he knew anything about those deaths. I'm with the FBI, and we want to get to the bottom of it, especially if that Munson is falsely accused."

Harrington's jam hangs open. Snaps shut. He turns to the Cheif, corner of his lips tugging up. "The. The government. Wants to know about the deaths."

The Cheif nods. "That's right, son. The FBI, here in our own little Hawkins."

The kid. The kid fucking giggles. "I see why you called."

"obviously. Guy's as subtle as a train."

And. What? How'd they figure him out so quickly? Who was this Harrington kid? What was that book he brought?

"listen, buddy, I get that you think your trying to help. I do." John is being condescended to by a fucking teenager. "But we've got it all sorted. Hawkins is fine." The kid pulls out a chair from the corner and sits on it backwards, leaning forwards against the backrest. "I am curious as to what you thought the killings were, though. Vampire? Demon? I don't think anything else would really fit the descriptions in the papers..."

And. Fuck. Did this kid know he was a Hunter? "How'd you know?"

The kid smirks. "I'm Steve Harrington." He sticks his hand out, for john to shake.

It seems rude not to, considering this kid and-and the goddamn Cheif of police in this Podunk Indiana town both clocked him as soon as he crossed town lines, probably. "John Winchester. Hunter."

Steve laughs. It's cold. "Yeah. I figured. I dunno if you're new to the game, mister Winchester, but I'm surprised you didn't recognize my last name. My parents seem to be pretty famous in you circles."

Shit. Bobby has mentioned notable hunters, and the Harringtons were definitely on the list. A hereditary family of hunters going back four generations, impressive for their career choice even without their rap sheet. And John's just met their fucking kid.

"don't worry about offending them, though. I guess I'm just here to tell you to get the fuck out of Hawkins." He says it with a board expression, as though this interaction is barely

"what?"

Steve blinks at him lazily. "Hawkins is my town. I know most hunters aren't exactly...territorial, but I am. The town is under my protection, and any and all other-natural occurences are my purview."

It's then that John realizes what the Cheif was doing earlier. The odd face he made. He'd been sniffing him. A goddamn werewolf. He stiffens. This was a trap.

"it's not a trap, mr. Winchester. You're free to go. But spread the word. Hunters aren't allowed in Hawkins. Roane county, actually. If I hear about a Hunter coming into my town for anything other than a fuel top-up, they'll regret it."

John is. He's furious at this fucking child who dare to-hes just letting the beasts run amok in town and preventing anyone from doing anything about.

Harrington stands, arms crossed.

"I'd better not hear whispers about Hawkins, either. It's my town. I'll handle it." He grins. Opens the door of the office. "And, you might want to double-check that the government hasn't already been through a town with a shitty cover story already, Mr. Winchester. Might break your cover." He waves with his fingers as John spins on his heel and avoid looking at the glares he's getting for half the folks in the station.

-----

Dean checks the address on a source he was directed to by the witnesses, a one Steve Harrington. He's on a solo Hunt now, since Sammy went off to college his dad had been...tighter. he knows he's not supposed to be in Hawkins, but he's not entirely sure why. No is really sure why, honestly, but it's well known in the Hunter grapevine that Hawkins and greater Roane county is taken care of.

Except, apparently, it isn't. Hence dean being here.

He knocks on the door, which swings open immediately to a thirty-something man who was already talking before the door was fully open, obviously not expecting a stranger.

"didn't know you actually knew how to kno- Winchester." And. Well. Fuck, right? How'd this random guy know dean? The man scowls. "I spoke to your father once. Told him to stay out of my town." He crosses his arms and raises a brow. "So. Want to explain why you're here? I've already handled the whole 'accidentally bewitching people situation, if that's what your wondering."

Dean...isn't actually sure what's happening."uh."

Steve Harrington scowls again. "Fine. Come in for coffee or tea or something. Relax for a goddamn second."

So, Dean sits and let's a cup of coffee be pushed into his hands. He doesn't drink it. Steve rolls his eyes.

"I didn't poison it, promise."

Which now makes Dean think maybe it was poisoned.

"hunters, all the fuckin same" Steve mumbles. Reaches over and plucks the coffee from Dean's hands and takes a swig before sliding it back between his palms. "There. Proof. You'll be fine."

Dean drinks, watches.

Steve watches back.

He sighs. "I'm sorry, about how you grew up."

"huh?"

Steve shakes his head. "Being the child of hunters. It's difficult. Lonely. I'm sorry you went through that."

Dean shrugs. "It's not so bad. Free as a bird."

Steve hums. Sips his own coffee. "Birds have flocks, or gaggles, or whatever other funny words we use to describe groups. Hunters..." He shrugs. "Not so much. Most fly solo or in pairs. Didn't you have a younger brother?"

"how did you-"

"I may not be nomadic, but I still have ears on the ground."

"huh. He went to college."

"ah. Getting out of the life. Good for him."

And suddenly Dean needs to get out. Can't stand this stranger who thinks he knows him, the way his eyes turn down, as though he's sad for Dean of all people. No. No. He needs to leave.

Harrington follows him to the door, leans on the frame as Dean stomps to the Impala. He turns around.

"i don't know what the fuck you think you're doing here, with those monsters on the loose. My dad told me about the wolves you're protecting that're infesting this place. They aren't pets you know. You need a fucking exterminator."

Steve shakes his head. "remember Dean. No hunters in Hawkins. Safe driving."

-----

Dean cannot believe they are going back to Hawkins of all godforsaken places.

Castiel sits beside him in the passenger seat, sam surrounded by papers in the backseat and it should be pleasant, easy and comfortable. But. But they're heading to Hawkins.

As soon as the cross city limits, Castiel cocks his head, interested.

"what is it?"

"I don't...know. something is different about this town."

From the back, Sam huffs. "Yeah, it's got a rogue hunter protecting all the monsters and ghouls."

Castiel hums. "I am not so sure he protects the same creatures you hunt..."

Dean sighs. Fucking great.

Eventually, they pull up to the same house he visited all the way back in '02, and Dean is...sort of nervous. He'd been told not to come back, but really...they needed help. Information. And Steve goddamn Harrington was the best bet they had of getting it.

He rings the doorbell. When it's answered, the door swings open to a man, middle-aged with long greying hair and-shit that's Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin. That's Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin answering Steve Harrington's door and calling,

"Steve, sugar, you've got some... specialty guests!" He turns back to them, smiling, and Dean is trying very hard to not make a fool of himself. Tries not to tell Eddie Munson ofcorrodedcoffin that his first album changed Dean's life. He's going to stick with biting his tongue and nodding. Following Sam and Cas I to the living room, sitting down on the couch. He's fine. He's got a job to do. He's a professional.

Sexy middle-aged men have no power over him. He leans into Cas' space slightly.

Harrington walks in, pecks eddiemunsonofcorrodedcoffin on the cheek, oh god, and sits down.

Dean immediately stands up.

"could I, uh, use your washroom?"

Steve blinks up at him, but nods, gestures to a hallway. Dean strides down and through an open door with the light on. He pulls the shower curtain away, an instinct to always check his surroundings, and immediately jumps back as a seal barks at him. He slams the door shut on his way out.

"there's, um. There's a seal in your bathtub. Sorry guys."

Neither Harrington nor Eddie Munson have normal reactions to this piece of news.

Eddie Munson flings his head back and laughs, hair wild around his head.

Steve Harrington sighs and punches the bridge of his nose.

"sorry about her. I said we'd go to lover's lake for a swim later but living in Chicago with lake Superior right there is really spoiling her."

"what"

"one second. Robin!" He yells down the hall. "We have guests! Be decent!"

A few moments of Eddie Munson giggling and Dean decidedly not staring at a metal legend and Steve muttering about seals and soulmates and being impatient pass, and a woman, around the same age as Munson and Harrington most likely, walks down the hall toweling off her hair. She tossed a coat at Harrington.

"oh" this is from Cas. "You are soulmates."

The woman laughs. "Yeah. Figured that one out over twenty years ago." She settle into Harrington's side. "What can we help you with?"

Sam, who is curious but can usually figure out how to ask the questions he wants with out, say, blurting what the fuck do you mean SOULMATES or why is Eddie Munson (of Corroded Coffin) here? And can I get his autograph? It's probably the law school training.

Eddie Munson leans down, covers his mouth with a ringed hand, and whispers into Harrington's ear. Harrington turns to Peck Eddie Munson on the lips and whisper something back, rejoining listening to Sam and Cas as thought they hadn't done whatever that was. Dean grips Cas coat.

All in all, it was actually a successful trip to Hawkins, though Steve give him the same warning when they leave, with very little explanation for it.

Hunters better stay the fuck out of his town.

#steddie #steve harrington #jim hopper #dean Winchester #john winchester #Eddie munson #robin Buckley #human steve au #spn human steve au #finda writes stuff #i cannot believe i wrote spn fic. what is happening #destiel #only hinted but you KNOW its there.#also yes dean does have a celeb crush on eddie OBVIOUSLY.#stranger things #finda's rambles #i just wanted steve telling john wimchester to gtfo of hawkins #snd here we are. deans bi panic in full effect #also should be noted eddie is 100% telling steve about the destiel pining

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unavailabletozombies · 5 months

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Benophie au where Sophie is called in last minute to be a Party Princess for Amelia’s 4th birthday party - Daphne had hired the company Penwood’s Once Upon a Party to supply the Princesses - because Posy’s sick.

She arrives at Hasting House with the other 3 performers (an Ariel, Tiana, and Rapunzel) dressed as Cinderella and is swept immediately into the chaos of a party full of 4-5 year olds.

All of the Bridgerton sibs had been begged to dress up by their niece (none of whom can withstand the puppy eyes she has expertly mastered), and Benedict is in the middle of complaining to Colin about his itchy Prince Charming costume when the Princesses arrive. He is immediately enchanted by the Cinderella and doesn’t even notice Colin laughing as he stares at her with the same look of awe the kids have.

He spends the next hour trying to work out how to appropriately flirt with a Princess at his niece’s birthday when Amelia practically drags the Cinderella over to “Uncle Benny!” to meet her “Prince Charming”. Sophie is desperately trying to withhold a laugh at the girl’s enthusiasm and curtesies to the man standing in front of her.

Amelia’s “Uncle Benny you have to dance with her, she’s your Princess!” is all it takes for Ben to offer his hand to the performer and lead her to the ‘dance floor’ (the circle of garden full of children on sugar highs) where some ridiculous KidsBop music is playing. The pair dance as Amelia starts telling her parents, aunts, uncles, and grandmother to come join as well - she makes Colin dance with the Ariel (Anthony mutters something about Colin and Redheads to a bemused Kate) - and soon the garden is full of adults dancing “like they do in the balls!” between running children.

Benedict uses this chaos to try and find out all he can about the mysterious princess, his attempts being hampered by the Cinderella (because she refuses to tell him her actual name and risk breaking the magic if a child overhears) only answering in character.

“What do you do for fun?” “Oh, I listen to the wonderful stories of GusGus, and talk to the geese.”

“What’s your favourite colour?” “Well many think it’s blue, and my mother’s was pink, but I love silver. It’s why my fairy godmother made my dress like this.”

“Do you have any siblings? I have frankly too many.” “Only two step-sisters, they try their best but they can struggle to be kind.”

“Please tell me what your real name is.” “You may call me Ella if you so wish.”

The conversation goes in circles with Ben trying to control his growing frustration at her evasion as she smiles more broadly with each line.

Sophie is eventually pulled away by Amelia to go to the craft table and Benedict is left bereft and nursing a crush that has definitely been clocked by the many Bridgertons.

The party eventually winds to a close with the princesses saying their goodbyes to the children and parents arriving to pick them up. With the last guests gone, and only Bridgertons at the house, Benedict tries one last time to speak to the Cinderella hoping to ask her out for a drink, when he gets swept up by a tired Amelia asking to be carried. By the time she’s settled on his back the princesses have vanished and his heart starts to sink mentally kicking himself for missing his chance.

That is until Simon walks up to him and passes him a card with a knowing look. Glancing down Benedict sees the logo of Penwood’s Once Upon A Party, and underneath, a quickly drawn shoe.

“Not quite an actual glass slipper, but good luck mate”.

#benophie #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #Sophie Bridgerton #Bridgerton #I just love them #and an Cinderella au #fanfic #Bridgerton fanfic #Bridgerton au #Ben waits until the next day to contact the company #he books their Cinderella and a couple of other Princess for a company family fun day #he’s desperate and it makes Anthony laugh as he approves the event #and is disappointed when a different woman shows up #it’s posy as she’s the normal girl they book #but she’s willing to give up slightly more information and leaves him with a few hints #he keeps trying to book the princesses for events and finally Kate declares that even is miles is only 1 they should have a Prince #and prince party #kate does this as she is starting to get tired of ben’s pining and honestly if he keeps on contacting the company it’ll get weird #if it hadn’t already #she found out at the last event that posy does Elsa as well as Cinderella #so books both but requests posy as Elsa in the hopes Sophie with turn up as Cinderella #she does #Benedict owes his sister in law everything #they live happily ever after #my posts #my work

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altschmerzes · 6 months

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ted lasso fandom stop posting things labeled as gen fic with both & and / tags listed for the same relationship leaving me wondering if i want to open the box of schrodinger’s gen fic and get shipping jumpscared today or not challenge

#gav gab #all fandoms do this but boy this one is bad about it eh #if im wondering if the fic you posted and labelled a gen fic #is a ship fic or not #something went very wrong with your tagging #while im at it ‘pre-relationship’ or ‘if you squint’ or ‘hints of x/y’ tags are just #functionally completely useless #because ive seen them regularly used to mean anything from like #‘these characters are worried about each other or possibly make physical contact at all’#to ‘the pov character is actively pining for the other person in a direct way’#and those are wildly different things #please say what you mean :’)#tbt the time i was reading a fic that was completely tagged as gen and with & tags #and a ‘hints of possible future x/y’ on it which given it was an h/c fic is like #are we referring to Care and Comforting Someone When They’re Hurt as hinting at a possible future romance?#bc often yes that’s the case!#in this case it was literally the pov character at the most situationally inappropriate moment fantasizing about a sex act w the other one #which is uh #call me a bitchy stick in the mud aro if you want but #that’s not covered by ‘hints of possible future’ if you ask me that’s pretty damn direct #stop putting it in the damn gen tag #it’s already hard enough to find gen fic without all the ‘actually ship fic but nobody fucks so people think somehow that makes it gen’#shit that gets in there #at least it’s not the spn fandom out here tagging things like ‘gencest’ which truly proves that nobody in that fandom #can be normal about platonic relationships #like what the fuck are you talking about actually

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the-bisexual-and-damned · 7 months

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a chameron fic where charlie admits to liking cam after he couldn’t take the hint, and after cam still doesn’t believe him goes, “you think i’d be getting help from you if i didn’t like you??? MEEKS IS RIGHT THERE”

#cameron cannot take a hint to save his life (just like neil with girls)#charlie even does ‘that lean’ guys in books do up against a wall #cam just thinks it’s like a balance issue #charlie whining to meeks (the only person that knows) that cam is oblivious #and meeks sitting there until late at night dealing with charlie’s bisexual pining #dead poets society #dps fandom #dps #chameron #charlie dalton #richard cameron

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padfootastic · 2 years

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here’s the thing.

prongsfoot can go two ways.

1. natural, uncomplicated, easy.

- always sleeping in the same bed; turning around one morning and kissing the other on the lips. no acknowledgement other than a lazy, satisfied smile. going about their day per usual only with added affection. no one even bats an eyelid (most already thought they were together, just with the collective conscience of a virginal victorian)

- don’t have to talk about the change in status bc does it really matter? they’ve been each other’s since the day they met. their hearts & souls are twined beyond belief. u can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

- slow and simple and steady. love that has existed for years and is strong, enduring. they know it too, because they know each other better than their own self.

BUT

also. consider.

2. oblivious pining idiots

- somewhere along the line, they developed feelings for each other. good? NO. because they’re ~brothers and ‘no way he likes me like that oh my god oh my god oh my god what do i do i didn’t prepare for this omg’ type panic.

- stolen glances and blushes and flustered stutters and just. generally being hot messes

- terrified that they’ll be found out, considered a creep, and then the best relationship they’ve ever had in their entire life will crumble and it’ll be their fault (more sirius than james tho)

- making a fool out of themselves in front of the other

- the entirety of hogwarts oscillating between exasperation and humor because fuck is it exhausting to watch these two idiots not realise how much they love each other but also watching these two cool dudes act like fkn losers is comedy gold yanno?

#sirius black #james potter #prongsfoot #the first one is what my heart calls out for. it ticks off so many boxes #but oh my god tell me oblivious idiots and mutual pining and dumbasses to lovers arent god tier tropes #and these two will bubble about in different ways too bc of how fundamentally different they are #and there’s some angst potential there too yes #but mainly just comedy #there’s betting pools and drinking games and not so subtle hints dropped by literally everyone and all the cliches #like locking them in a cupboard or putting a mistletoe above them #(why tf is there mistletoe in april???)#but yeah. i can see it both ways and i love both of them and i can’t choose and this is where having a variety of hcs helps #bc u can just….go for both lol #pen’s notes

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portalford-hasadeathray · 1 year

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Gonna rant about how I think Ford has been in the Boiling Isles, and what I think happened- he got to the Boiling Isles some time after leaving the Do-over dimension. How did he get there? We don't know. Maybe there was another dimensional door? If so, then where is it now? Either way- he got in. At this point, he's probably noticed a few key things.

1. There's a giant ass skeleton. The folk here are LIVING in said skeleton.

2. People here are making circles in the air with their fingers- and it makes something happen. This must be magic.

3. Nobody has rounded ears. Ford wears his hood after this observation.

4. It looks like a very governed place. There's guards everywhere, with gold triangles on their uniforms. Ford quickly suspects that Bill has had some sort of influence here, but he finds no proof to back up this suspicion. The thought is dropped.

Ford learns how magic works almost immediately. He most likely figured out how to create glyphs without using paper. (He's a smart man, he probably drew the glyphs on his hand or some shit-) This proves to be a bad idea, and he gets seized because he was reportedly "mixing magic". Lets keep in mind-

1. They don't know Ford is human.

2. They don't have ANY records of this man.

They then charge him for being a wild witch, he gets thrown into the conformatorium. They'd plan for a petrification.

Ford somehow gets out. Wtf. How did he do that. Either way, boom. He has wanted posters now. But ah, of course- his only distinguishing feature was his hands. So BOOM!!! Prints of a six fingered hand everywhere!! He has to go into hiding.

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

ALSO- things i bet Ford did while being there.

1. Make the AWFUL mistake of standing outside when it rains.

2. Ran into Eda atleast once. He doesn't know who this lady is, selling random normal junk and calling them "human collectibles". Either way, he buys a rubiks cubiks cube. Or- he tries. The lady asks for snails? Ford doesn't understand what the hell she's talking about. In the end, Ford walks away with nothing.

3. Ford probably asked random people there if they knew of a "bill". He gets nothing about bill visiting here. As far as he knows, this dimension is safe from Bill.

4. He fed the demon decimal system.

5. He tried to make a palisman. He didn't quite...understand the concept of a palisman yet.

I'm too tired to keep going. Anyone feel free to add onto this or change things- I would love to see expansion on the idea!!

#ford pines #stanford pines #gravity falls #the owl house #I bet. Eda thought that Ford was stanley. and that she promptly thought-#'how the FUCK did he find me?'#but like. after hearing his voice. and seeing that there was not a HINT of recognition #she totally would realize that this is just a really odd encounter with someone who just looks exactly like him.#anyways im eepy

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soursherbat · 6 months

Text

Sensation; Chapter 4

I Want You

To start from the beginning Click Here ; Previous chapter Click Here

A Springtrap x OC fanfic

Word Count; 3,154

We’d been standing in my kitchen for a while now, embracing each other in silence as we both processed what this would mean for us going forward. It seems like my words stunned him, his usually twitching limbs now abnormally still. He probably couldn’t believe that I wanted him to stay. I couldn’t believe he’d stay with me, of all people.

Though I supposed dealing with me would be better than his previous situation. Anything would be better than rotting in a giant fire hazard just waiting to burn inside it, I’d imagine.

I didn’t want to pull away from him, he clearly didn’t want to leave my embrace either. The only sound in our home being that of his purring emanating loudly from his chest, I can hear it even clearer with my face pressed so close to his fur.

This man was no monster. He was adorably endearing, so kindly and genuine that it still boggles my mind that someone as tortured as he was could be so polite.

We both stiffen when my phone rings in my pocket, the ringtone so loud and jarring to both of us that I hear a small gasp from him.

I reluctantly pull myself away, my heart sinking when I see my superior’s phone number.

“I... I have to take this. Feel free to sit on the couch...”

Springtrap nods, clearly saddened by my absence. I felt terrible- but hopefully it would only take a minute. They couldn’t prove that it happened on my shift... I hoped. God, I hoped.

I retreat into my bedroom, softly shutting the door. I pick it up before it rings a third time, acting as if I’d just woken up to add a touch of credibility to the story I was about to bullshit.

“... Hello...?”

I greet them, forcing a sleepy tone to my voice. It was a phone call- I doubt they’d be able to pick up on it being disingenuous.

“Hawk! What happened? Fazbear’s Fright burned down- did something happen on your shift?”

It’s hard not to laugh. No concern for my well being, nor any thought spared for the man they would have let burn in that building. I feign surprise, trying my best to act like I didn’t already know that.

“What?! No- no, nothing happened... everything was the same as it was yesterday when I left this morning... was anyone hurt?”

There’s a moment of silence, followed by a heavy sigh.

“No. Nobody was in the building, luckily. Probably an electrical fire, then...”

I hear them sigh again, probably not looking forward to the legalities they’d have to go through, insurance and all that. If that fucking building was insured in the first place, at least...

“Well, Hawk... obviously you won’t need to be returning to work. Sorry it had to end like this. Good luck.”

Before I can even say anything- they’ve hung up. I stand there in silence, before just laughing. I’d gotten away with it. My hands had been shaking that entire time, but they seemed to barely even care that it had happened.

They seemed to expect it, anyway. Whatever. Wasn’t my problem to deal with any longer.

I stop. They didn’t care. He was free. We were free.

I feel my hands begin to tremble once more. We’d made it out of that situation without suspicion. Nobody knew I had him here. We were alone together.

I shakily open my bedroom door, a smile wide on my face. Who cares that I lost my job- I cared far more about my rabbit sitting patiently on my couch right now, looking at me expectantly.

“Is everything alright?”

I pause for a moment, realizing how I must look right now. Realizing that I’d just referred to him mentally as ‘mine.’ I regain my composure, clearing my throat as I shove my phone back into my pocket.

“Yeah- yeah... everything’s fine now.”

I stand there, unsure of what to do with myself at this moment. I wasn’t used to having someone else in my home- let alone somebody I was having such complex and mixed feelings about.

I liked him. Quite a bit- I could admit that to myself. We’d only known each other for four days now, if you wanted to count that first night we shared a passing glance.

I’d gotten attached quicker than that. I’ll admit it, I wasn’t very smart. But... I still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was not just a passing infatuation. No, the looks we shared- our embrace... how right it felt to call things ours rather than just mine.

Except one thing. It felt right to call him mine.

The thought makes my hands shake. I normally had trembling hands- but this was worse. I was in too deep, there was no way he’d ever feel this way about me. I couldn’t accept it- none of my relationships ever worked out.

It was usually due to the other party being... well. Not exactly the best for me- abusive was putting it lightly, really. My attachment issues had gotten me into trouble more times than I’d like to recount.

But he’s so different. And not like the other times I’d told myself that- no, a genuine kindheartedness in his eyes that just made my heart melt every time he looked at me.

Right. He’s still looking at me. I feel a blush creep across my cheeks as I try to laugh off the concerned look he’s giving me, looking away from him.

“Sorry. Just... have a lot to think about right now.”

Springtrap chuckles, nodding in agreement.

“Ah... I suppose I do, too. No need to apologize.”

Another bout of silence rolls in, both of us just sharing a wistful stare until I finally break eye contact to look at my clock.

It’s already noon. Christ, I didn’t realize how long we’d been sitting in this kitchen. As soon as I processed the time, my body began to yell at me as a cacophony of sensations and aches finally hit me.

I’d been on my feet since midnight- and I hadn’t eaten at all in that time, either. I can feel the pit in my stomach, my body begging for me to eat anything at this point.

He seems to pick up on my change in demeanor, tilting his head curiously. God- it looked so cute when his ears flopped over slightly, his eyes softening as he gazed back at me...

I barely even process that he’d just said something to me. In fact- I don’t process it at all.

“I’m sorry- what did you say?”

“Are you okay, Hawk?”

“Oh... yeah. I- I’m fine...”

I’d been wondering why my hands were shaking so badly, I needed to make something to eat- anything really, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I feel my legs aching, feeling like I was standing on knives.

He stands from his spot on the couch, approaching me slowly. I can tell he’s making an effort to make himself visible to me, probably not wanting a repeat of what happened during our first hug.

He doesn’t have to try hard. He’s huge, and I’m lucky my ceiling is high enough to facilitate the height of his ears. Yeah- he has to bend over to enter doorways, but at least he can usually walk around unhindered.

“You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

I can’t lie to him, letting out a little sigh as I avoid his worried stare. It hurts me to see him anxiously fret over me, I should be the one pampering him.

But I knew he wouldn’t drop it. He probably just wanted to make himself useful- but... I couldn’t tell him how important to me it is that he was just existing here. I can’t express how good it feels to have another person in my home again.

“Just... tired. I haven’t eaten in a while- but... well.”

I chuckle softly, shrugging my shoulders. I feel foolish even saying it.

“I just can’t force myself to eat.”

“Right... I’d forgotten about that. It’s been so long since I’ve even thought about it...”

Springtrap seems a bit sheepish now, awkwardly looking around our kitchen. He turns back to me, looking lost again.

“Well... may I help? What would you like?”

I immediately look up at him, shaking my head and waving off the notion of him making food for me.

“No- no, I can’t ask you to do that... I should be taking care of you.”

Springtrap pauses, his ears straightening up a little. His eyes soften, and I can feel my heart melting again.

“You’ve been taking care of me, Hawk. Let me help you, please.”

I can’t bear to look at that earnest face of his, my stomach aching so badly- and yet I can still feel butterflies as he begs me to let him show me kindness.

I just nod, holding my arm and rubbing it slowly. I feel so guilty for letting him do this for me, but he looks so genuinely happy.

“Okay... but... just something simple. A bowl of cereal is more than enough for me.”

“Hawk, you’re trembling. I hardly think that’s a wise choice.”

I purse my lips, knowing what he was saying was right. I needed to take better care of myself, but I just couldn’t force myself to. Hell, my cat ate better than I did. My self sacrificing nature always bit me in the ass, I just needed to let him in.

The thought was terrifying. He just wanted to make me lunch, for fuck’s sake- and here I was, beating myself up for it and making a mountain out of an anthill.

I look up at him, sighing quietly.

“You’re right... I... I have pancake mix. That’s easy to make...”

He nods, knowing I likely wouldn’t allow him to make anything more complex for me. I felt bad enough letting him do just this.

“It’s alright to ask for help, Hawk.”

My throat tightens. I feel like I’m being choked, immediately looking away from him. I let out a shaky breath I didn’t notice I was holding, my shoulders relaxing as I nodded slowly.

“Yeah...”

I open one of the lower cabinets and grab the mix, setting it on the counter next to the stove. I grab a bowl and a whisk as well, mixing the batter without measuring it.

I couldn’t let him do it by himself. I’d be beating myself up for days if I did, and though I could feel him staring at me- I had to help him help me. I had to.

He speaks up after a moment, now standing in front of the stove next to me.

“I... had forgotten how small everything is.”

I feel like I’m being targeted specifically in that statement, seeing as how I could barely reach his shoulders if I stood on my toes.

“Like... your cat. I felt so anxious with him in my lap- he seemed so tiny and fragile...”

I can’t help but smile at that statement.

“Don’t worry too much, Sunny’s not fragile. He’s a bit of a klutz, just you wait.” I pause for a moment. “And... he’s our cat. Everything in here is yours now, too.”

“... Everything? Are you sure...?”

I tilt my head at him, raising an eyebrow. He’s staring so intently at me... what’s he thinking?

“Well... of course. You live here now.”

He slowly smiles, turning his attention back to the pancake mix in my hands. He looks to the stove, then back to me. It’s a gas stove with a pancake griddle in the center of all of the burners, and I can’t help but chuckle at his lost expression.

“The middle knob is for the griddle.”

Springtrap nods, and reluctantly reaches for it. I notice his apprehension, watching as he flinches when the gas ignition clicks before lighting up.

“Don’t worry, it won’t burn you. It scared me when I first got it, too. Heh... just anxiety. You’ll get used to it.”

He seems comforted by my reassurance, watching my hands as I pour some chocolate chips into the batter.

He looks a bit melancholy, as if he was thinking deeply about something. I can’t tell what it is, but... it looked as if he’d remembered something.

“They always preferred chocolate chips in their pancakes, too...”

It’s so soft that I can barely hear his voice over my whisk scraping the bowl, looking over at him curiously.

“Who?”

“Oh... my apologies. Just thinking out loud.”

He smiles at me, though I can tell it’s forced. His expressiveness betrayed him this time, I can tell something’s eating away at him.

“You don’t have to tell me... but I’m always willing to listen.”

“Just... ghosts of the past, Hawk. It’s best if I let them rest.”

His words feel like a gunshot through my chest. He was obviously traumatized by something in his past- but he seems to have mostly made his peace with it.

Ghosts like that have a tendency to haunt us even when we’ve moved on, something I knew well.

I can’t respond to him, just nodding solemnly. Fuck, if I didn’t need to hear it right now too. Just... let it rest, Hawk. Move on.

I grab a spatula for him, cheered up a bit by how absolutely tiny it is in his giant paw. He can grip it just fine, it’s just so small comparatively.

“Ah... everything is... so small, Hawk. Even you, I... I feel so anxious that I might break something...”

I pout at him a little bit, tipping the batter out onto the warmed up griddle.

“Well, you’re not gonna break me, I’ve been through worse. Don’t let it worry you too much, you’re so gentle anyway...”

Springtrap smiles at that, it seems to quell his anxieties a bit. Though... I can see a twinge of concern on his face. Never mind that, I didn’t want him to worry for me.

“Is... that why you pushed me away?”

I feel another knife twist in my heart.

“You... just startled me. Please don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help it. I... I am worried for you, Hawk. I- I still don’t think I belong here. I feel like I’m going to make things harder for you...”

“Please don’t say that.”

I didn’t even mean to say it. It just kinda slipped from my mouth, making me try to double back.

“I... I just- I just mean that... I’m glad you’re here... you don’t need to do anything for me to... to belong here.”

I feel my composure slipping through my hands, but he’s just smiling sweetly at me. It seems like my words calmed his worries, just silently standing there staring at the pancakes as they cooked.

“Thank you...”

He breaks the silence, flipping the pancakes before they can burn. He turns his attention back to me, that earnest look on his face again.

“How do you prefer them, darling?”

He didn’t realize the Freudian slip he’d just had, staring at me with a puzzled face as my mouth opens wide and my face flushes. He’s even more confused when I begin to stutter out a response, thinking a bit harder about what he’d said.

He realizes. Smiling sweetly at me, with a bit of curiosity- he stays quiet about it, waiting to see if I’d say anything about it.

“I... uh- I-I prefer them... a bit lighter...”

He notices that I don’t call him out for it. That makes him even more curious, wanting to see how far he could push it before I said something. I obviously wasn’t taking it poorly- I was just flustered.

That intrigued him. What was Hawk feeling right now, he wondered?

“Is this done enough, dear?”

I’m trying not to lose my mind at the moment. His gravelly, slightly accented voice calling me those little pet names as if it was the most natural thing in the world... I felt like my knees were about to buckle.

“Um... uh- yeah. Yeah, that’s good enough... do... you want some?”

He’s a little taken aback by the offer. Sure, he didn’t need to eat, but... perhaps he’d enjoy it. Breakfast with someone he cared about- it had been so long since he’d had something so normal happen to him.

“... That sounds lovely, actually. Is there more batter?”

I just nod at him, pouring more onto the hot griddle when he pulls the first two pancakes off of it. I’m still flustered, my eyes staring down at the designs on the floor as I avoid his gaze.

Did he mean to do it? Was he mocking me? Oh, god- what if it was just an accident and I was reading too much into it? I start to shake, holding my arms as my anxiety eats away at me-

“Hawk? Do you enjoy when I use those names for you?”

He meant it.

“Yes!”

Oh god.

That word is blurted out of my mouth unintentionally, leaving me wide eyed and surprised at my own lack of self control. He just chuckles softly, reaching over and putting a gentle hand on my shoulder.

His paws feel so soft...

“It’s okay, Hawk. Relax. It... was a slip of the tongue at first, but... you seemed to like it.”

Internally, he’s so relieved that I enjoyed it. The way I was acting after the second one, he wasn’t sure if I was upset or not. But... that made him question why I enjoyed it.

He was still denying that I could feel any type of way about him, really- not wanting to accept that I cared about him. But what kind of care was it?

Neither of us were good at this. Intimacy was terrifying and uncertain for both of us.

But... we both wanted to make it work. It was so hard to vocalize it...

“I... I do like it. Please... keep using them.”

He smiles at me, tilting his head slowly.

“I’m going to touch your face... is that okay?”

“Please.”

I must look so pathetic, practically begging him to touch me. I had forgotten how badly I wanted to be touched, loved- I wanted to experience it with him. Oh, I wanted it so badly.

He cups my cheek, prompting me to lean into his soft, fuzzy paw. He cleaned up so well- he honestly looked handsome...

Both of us quickly realize that we’re still cooking, clearing my throat softly as he moves his paw and goes to flip the pancakes.

“Springtrap... do... do you have a real name? Or do you really want me to call you that?”

He tenses a bit, but... seems to relax slowly. He was scared that I’d judge him at first- now there was no doubt that I didn’t want to cast judgment on him.

“... You can call me William, dear.”

Next Chapter ->

#this ones named after a summer camp song abt INTENSE pining #this one is so long. god #but i want their dynamic to be clear #abuse mention cw #its not graphic its just mentioned very briefly and kinda hinted at by hawk's sad wet cat demeanor #g.txt #my fics #fnaf fanfic #fnaf au #fnaf springtrap #fnaf fandom #springtrap x oc #springtrap x self insert #springtrap fic #springtrap x hawk #springtrap

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