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muchamusedaboutnothing · 1 year

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Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 17

Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester

This story is Act 7 of a saga.

New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.

Series Warnings:

Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.

Canon-typical violence and language.

Lots of whump.

Lots of caring for hurt characters.

Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)

Angst.

Fluff.

Medical talk. Is that even a warning

Image Credit: bing image search, google image search

Wordcount: 2007

Author's Note: Merry Christmas! ;)

Chapter 17

Your return home had been everything you'd hoped it would be. The day passed quickly, as time often does when things are pleasant. After dinner, Addie announced she'd be flying out the next day. It was written all over her face that she hated to leave Sam, but she had work to get back to.

"I'm sure Jim and Cheryl will be happy to have you back," Dean said to her.

"We can't thank you enough for your help," you told her, giving her a hug. "We'll miss you. But we'll plan a visit down to see you soon."

"You'd better," she said with a smile.

Sam was putting on a pretty brave face, considering he was probably pretty tore up about her leaving. It broke your heart a little for him, and you weren't surprised when he and Addie decided to turn in early to enjoy their last night together.

You gave Jonah a bottle while Dean took a shower. Then you and Dean bathed him together and read him books in the nursery until he fell asleep in your arms. Once he was settled in his crib, it was your turn for a shower.

Spending so much time in the bunker throughout your pregnancy and since Jonah had been born had spoiled you, and your brief stint in a dingy motel room had been just enough to make you appreciate a nice, long, hot shower at home once again.

When you walked back into the bedroom wrapped in an oversized towel, you found that Dean had brought some things from the infirmary to help you get fresh bandages put on.

"You be thinking about where I can take you for that fancy dinner I still owe you," Dean said as he helped you tape a clean gauze square in place on your side.

You considered him for a moment. "You know, I may just let you surprise me."

Dean quirked an eyebrow and his tongue peeked through his teeth a little. "I can make that happen."

He helped you put a new bandage around your thigh next, and then you leaned back against the headboard. "Do we have to wait till I'm all healed up to celebrate in other ways?" you said coyly, sliding your fingers beneath the bottom of his t-shirt to graze along his abdomen.

Dean bit his bottom lip and looked you up and down. You hadn't had sex since Jonah was born, and even though the recommended time had passed since then, you'd been too busy trying to keep your family intact to do much else.

"God, that's tempting," Dean said, his voice a little wrecked. "Are we okay to do that now? With you wounded?"

"Well, I was going to let you do most of the work, Winchester, but if you're not up to it … " You slid your hand south to cup him through his jeans.

"Hey, hold on now. I never said that," Dean argued. "Besides, there is nothing about having my hands on your body that qualifies as work."

You cupped him tighter, earning a sharp little gasp. Then you opened your towel, letting it fall backward.

He moaned, a deep rumble in his throat, and ducked down to cover your mouth with his.

Your heart did a wonderful flip. You loved that Dean could still do that to you. Make your heart swell and heat flush in your cheeks. He continued to kiss the everloving hell out of you, releasing your mouth only briefly to gently coax you down flat on the bed.

You closed your eyes shut tight for a second to enjoy the feel of his lips on your skin as he trailed a path from your lips down along your throat and collar bone.

“It’s been so long,” you whimpered. It wasn’t like you to sound so needy, desperate. And while he didn’t answer with words, it was obvious Dean needed this as much as you did. The two of you had been through so much together recently.

You wanted to be as close to him as possible right then. To have his hands remind you how well he knew every inch of your body. To have his lips worship you like you were something to be cherished. You just needed him.

His fingers brushed along your skin, going around the bandage on your side and pausing to rest at the dressing covering the bullet wound on your thigh.

"I'm going to be proud of those scars," you said to him, the corner of your mouth tugging up in a smile.

He sat up a little, resting his weight on one elbow as he leaned over you to gaze at your face adoringly. "Not as proud as I am. And sweetheart, you've never looked so damn beautiful.”

And just like that Dean made you feel comfortable and sexy in your own skin, despite the fact that your body was still softer than you were used to. Every touch made it clear that he appreciated what you'd been through, both in carrying the baby and in your recent battle with the witch and demons to protect your family.

Dean quickly shed his own clothes. Propped up on one elbow, he stretched out next to you on the bed. With one hand between your legs, he kissed your mouth while his fingers mercilessly teased you into oblivion.

Dean always had this way of knowing exactly when to pull back long enough for you to suck down a breath of oxygen, but not so long that you had a chance to miss the taste of him on your tongue.

He slipped a finger inside you then, moving slowly but deliberately before adding a second finger. He continued to kiss you while massaging you from the inside out from every angle imaginable. He took his time, and the moments stretched out, languid, hot, torturous in the best ways.

When he added his thumb to the mix, caressing that bundle of nerves in your center, you felt your thighs tremble with anticipation.

"Dean … " you breathed as he swallowed up his own name from your lips.

"Just," he whispered before he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth. "Let … " He kissed the little V in your top lip. "Go…." His tongue flicked gently along the roof of your mouth while his fingers pistoned in and out of you across the ridge of your G-spot, causing pleasure to burst behind your eyes as your muscles clamped down powerfully around him with the force of it.

He leaned back just far enough to let you breathe through your orgasm, fingers gently working you through it.

Your head was light, your tongue heavy. You couldn't have formed words if you'd tried. But Dean didn't require words to know exactly what you needed.

He tucked his head down to nuzzle at your breast, tongue swirling around your nipple, teeth gently flicking over the tip and causing heat to quickly pool in your center again.

Your hand went to the back of his head, nails teasing at his scalp while you encouraged him to continue the assault with that glorious mouth of his.

His fingers began curling and stroking inside of you again as her continued to wake and soothe all the little nerve endings that might have been traumatized during the delivery, and before you knew it he was drawing more wetness from you than you'd have thought possible.

When he covered your mouth with his own again, you realized he was only just getting started.

He scissored you open with two fingers, working in a complete circle so as not to neglect any part of you. When he was satisfied with that, he lightly nibbled on your bottom lip while adding a third finger inside you.

He continued to massage you with his fingers, stroking, pumping, flicking, grazing. Your eyes were shut tight as you tried to take in all the sensations at once.

Dean gently nudged you onto your left side to protect the injury in your right thigh and your waist on the same side. He settled himself directly behind you, easing your legs apart and resting one over his hip.

As he eased himself into you from behind, he was gentle and attentive, lighting your nerves up in ways that made you feel alive like nothing else could. He took his time, letting you wiggle back onto him slowly so as not to do too much too fast.

You were grateful he'd done so much to prepare you for him, and after a moment he was fully seated within you. The two of you lie there for a few seconds, just breathing together and enjoying the feeling of being so inextricably connected.

"I've missed having you inside me, Winchester," you breathed.

His lips tickled the tender skin on the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss there. "Feels like home, sweetheart."

His palm cupped your breast, gently kneading your flesh, fingers plucking at your nipple. When his hips starting rocking gently, the pleasant drag of him along your core had your breath catching in your throat.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned. His teeth dragged languidly across your shoulder blade, lips kissing your skin like he couldn't stand to keep his mouth off of you for more than a second.

He recognized the change in your breathing as a sign that you were getting close again. He continued the pattern, using his hips to angle a little deeper as he continued to drag along your nerve endings, lighting you up from the inside.

When you began to tremble he nuzzled your neck, whispering, "Come for me. I've got you."

Three strokes later and you found yourself clenching around him as your body tried impossibly to pull him closer, further inside you while waves of pleasure rushed over you.

"That's my girl," Dean said, thrusting slowly as you rode out the pleasure. "Damn, sweetheart. You feel incredible."

A light sheen of sweat now covered your skin, and your heart thrummed beneath your ribcage like a little bird trying to escape.

Dean continued moving in and out of you, the head of his cock dragging pleasantly right where he knew you liked best. He knew every inch of your body, having made it his life's goal to continue finding new ways to open you up, set you on fire. Tonight was no different.

His hand slid down between your legs again, finding just how wet you still were; evidence of just how receptive your body was to him. He gently rubbed at your clit, and you jerked a little in surprise at the feel of him there again, but you breathed into the sensation and relaxed against him as he continued to stroke you.

Dean's fingers, along with the way he was pleasantly dragging in and out of you with practiced precision, were the perfect combination. He stoked another fire in you that wouldn't be satiated. Your breath caught in your throat as the orgasm tore through you with such force it made the others seem like ripples before a tsunami.

You were still clenching rhythmically around Dean when he curled around you from behind, muscles bunching with the intensity of his own release.

He pulled out afterward and nudged you onto your back again, resting his head on your chest, ear pressed where he could hear your heart beating frantically after your orgasm. He cherished the sound as it slowed.

You casually ran your fingers through his hair, floating in blissful content.

After a moment, his gruff voice broke the silence. "Doc?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

You looked down at him in surprise, but couldn't see his expression with the way he was nuzzled into your chest. "For what?"

"For coming back to us."

Your throat was suddenly tight with emotion at the sentiment. You pressed your palm to his stubbled cheek and kissed the top of his head fervently.

Act VII Masterlist.

You can find the Masterlist for the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

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#Heart of a Hunter #dean x doctor!reader #dean x reader #spn reader insert #spn series

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theroastedwretch · 1 year

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Between the Lines- Ep. 3

A/N: This one is pretty long, partially to make up for just how short the next one will be. Episode 4 comes at you pretty rapid fire by design, so it's harder to stretch out and still make it make sense.

Usual warnings apply, some no no words, innuendo/bad flirting. This one also features a bit more insecurity around body image than usual and discussions of mental illness, so if that's not your thing please keep that in mind.

Index Episode 2

I was cursing at my phone and muttering about stupid 20-somethings getting involved in shit they shouldn’t— and ignoring the irony— when I finally managed to get a grip on myself and start thinking a bit more clearly.

Should I text the others? The Hacker seemed pretty sure one of them was the culprit, and while I wasn’t totally positive, the timing of the threatening call seemed to support that. It had been early on in my communications with the group that it would have been surprising if my number had leaked beyond them by then.

But if the Hacker was monitoring their phones, could the culprit be as well? I know he’d said he was putting protections on my devices, but if he hadn’t done theirs it was entirely possible someone could have gotten my number that way.

Not to mention, Thomas claimed the message with my number in the first place had come from Hannah’s phone. We’d been working under the assumption all this time that she’d sent it, but her phone had disappeared with her, and Thomas said the call he’d made had been answered by breathing. Despite what Joyce had claimed in Stranger Things, there was no good way to identify breathing.

What if it had been the kidnapper who sent them my number? The issue of “why me” remained, but it did make more objective sense that he would have access to the phone and use it for something other than calling the police (or their hacker friend).

Hell, maybe my number has actually been a diversion. A random string of numbers sent to confuse them that happened to be my contact info? The coincidence was huge, but possible. In fact, was it even that big of a coincidence? Maybe for me, the person with the number, it felt that way. But on the outside looking in, most combinations of numbers with the right amount of digits would probably call someone.

I wasn’t an investigator or police. I occasionally dabbled in writing mystery and did some escape rooms. I listened to true crime podcasts. But being that I was the core, stereotypical demographic for most of those things, that didn’t exactly make me uniquely qualified for any of this.

My mind raced round and round, trying to piece together who I could trust, how I could help, and what my place in this whole clusterfuck really was. I actually had something of a reputation of being good under pressure (but collapsing as soon as it was gone— as shown by the time I’d giggled for like ten minutes straight after rushing around to put out Annie’s kitchen fire as she screamed and didn’t use the phone in her hand to call for help) but this time, maybe because there really wasn’t anything I could actually do, I found myself totally useless.

I’d worked myself up into such a fit that by the time Cleo texted, I was tense enough to yelp at the buzzing phone in my hand.

Thomas? I mouthed silently. The kid takes off after finding out about the body, gets weirdly aggressive at Dan to set up some sketchy deal he refused to mention by name, and then breaks into his girlfriend’s apartment?

Cleo was clearly uncomfortable with it too, sounding more stilted and awkward than I’d ever heard her, even when confronting her about her newfound love of trespassing. Was he looking at her phone? Had he said something to her?

It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility to think he had a key— Annie’s boyfriend had one to our place, much to my chagrin— and Cleo was just as guilty of going in as he was. But something about her reaction put me on edge, so I hoped she’d get somewhere she felt freer to talk soon.

Jessy’s rage provided a good distraction, though I really wasn’t surprised to see the way the paper had “reported” the body. It fit for a small town, whose identity partially stemmed from the idea of being safe and close. How many times in the past had I rolled my eyes at my grandma declaring that “this stuff didn’t happen in her town” when she watched the news for the city I’d grown up in? These were places where you never locked your doors, knew the mailman by name.

It became crucial to maintain that status quo at all costs, even if it meant relegating a murder to the back pages of a paper. Even if that meant the victim went unremembered.

Of course she was angry. Burying your head in the sand only felt good when it wasn’t your hurt being covered up.

Seeing her so upset brought back that feeling of helplessness I’d had with Cleo earlier. This time, there were things I could say, actions I could take. But nothing that would fix the situation or make her feel better at all. I could only let her vent. Even that felt so useless, it was only the tip of the iceberg.

Thomas’s return gave her something else to focus on, at least, even as I wondered whether it was planned or if his encounter with Cleo had forced his hand. I struggled to still see him as a devoted, grieving boyfriend after all this time.

The news that the body wasn’t Hannah’s perked everyone else up, but made me even more unsettled. As an outsider without any attachment to Hannah, a body appearing right after a kidnapping made things so much more complicated, and more dangerous.

One was unfortunate, two was a pattern.

There was no way I could say that to them, though, or even the Hacker, so I was left to stew on that on my own through the rest of Thomas’s return conversation.

Needing to process everything that had happened, I decided to go get some fresh air. I rarely took walks, I didn’t seem to get the cabin fever that others felt, and the pandemic had only made me even more comfortable hunkering down in one place. But suddenly I felt caged, like if I didn’t keep moving, I might collapse.

Something felt off to me, beyond the obvious. Why would the cops confirm anything to Thomas, who wasn’t Hannah’s husband and presumably had only a passing connection to the deceased woman? I knew that privacy in these cases wasn’t as strict as say, hospitals, and who knew what the laws in Germany looked like about that, but it still didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it was a small town thing?

Googling “how much can the police release to non-family in a missing person’s case” got me nowhere even before I added in the jurisdictional aspect, and I started to get frustrated at how little I knew about any of this.

I’d had dealings with cops before, a rebellious youth plus some impulse control issues had seen to that. I’d dated some questionable men, no doubt about that, made some bad choices. I knew the basics of the law in some areas, but nothing significant.

All of the recent happenings had me getting really frustrated with my ineptitude and getting pulled into this. I couldn’t say why I’d stuck around so far, really. It just seemed like everyone expected me to, and I didn’t want to disappoint them.

But hell, how was I not going to disappoint them?

My life had begun revolving around this case, even when it probably shouldn’t. Outside of the movie day and going out with Annie, one of which involved Jessy and the other I still felt guilty over, I’d taken very little time away from this, and it was starting to wear me down.

Still, how did I tell these grieving friends that I needed a break? How would I leave them up to their own devices, considering even with my help they were breaking in to crime scenes, buying illegal items, and having breakdowns over found bodies? They were suffering worse than I was, and even knowing that I would crash, I felt responsible for that.

Hannah had been missing for weeks, and all I’d done was find a cat picture, pry into her medical information, and discovered some emo poetry. Poirot, I was not. I couldn’t help but think that the others blamed me for that fact.

As if hearing my doubts, the Hacker appeared. I hugged my sweater closer to myself despite the day actually being fairly warm, and considered putting him off. But I wasn’t going to make any progress without him, and the sooner we solved this mystery, the sooner I could nurse my ego and return to my life.

I wasn’t at all surprised to hear he was reading in on my chat with Cleo, though I was a bit that he was watching my video chats. The insecure, dysmorphic part of me tried to remember how many chins I had while on screen, even knowing that he probably hadn’t looked at me once during the call. I knew it was silly, but I’d have to start considering my appearance a little more before turning on my camera.

I’d meant to come off more teasing when I’d questioned whether my opinion mattered to him, but I knew I sounded desperate for his approval. Still, I was pretty surprised when he answered in the affirmative, seemingly genuine. My face burned when I admitted to the same, but it kind of felt like I owed it to him at that moment.

Of course, he quickly moved the conversation back to the matter at hand, and I tried not to let that sting. Once he admitted to his “flaw”, though, I couldn’t help but question myself even further. Did it extend to not realizing how he came off over chat? Had he not even noticed the times I was flirting?

It seemed like everything had me off kilter today, and I was desperate to hide under my blankets and let myself mope, at least a little. It was so like me, to get feelings for a guy on the other side of the world that I didn’t even know the name of who had no idea I’d spent weeks flirting with him. I felt like a teenager again, pining over a boy who told me that I’d have an easier time finding a boyfriend if I lost weight.

Really, I thought I’d grown past this.

Massaging my temples as I walked back into my apartment, I let myself flop into bed despite how early it was. Maybe if I crawled into my safe space while texting, things wouldn’t bother me as much. Or I’d at least be less of an asshole and stop focusing on my own bullshit at a time like this.

I felt like I had to push back on his assertion that Hannah couldn’t have hurt herself. I clearly had more experience with depression than he had, and considering how he’d reacted to the SSRIs already, I worried it could break him. Besides, not all methods of hurting yourself came in the form that most people expected. Pretty much my entire early twenties was a testament to all of the ways you could hurt yourself without causing a single bit of physical harm.

I decided not to push that part.

We discussed the cloud entry (I resisted the urge to joke about my own shitty poetry, since I wasn’t making this about myself anymore) and I was surprised to discover that he’d never met Hannah. He was maybe more invested in finding her than some of the group.

I wasn’t making this about myself, so I didn’t worry that maybe they were romantic penpals or something. She had Thomas.

I had to admit I felt pretty good about getting to tease him about the legends, and was glad to see it made him laugh. Not because I wanted his approval, but just because he was usually so serious. Of course.

Finally, after exhausting all of the leads and updates either of us had— there was no movement on Poke’s number yet— he logged off suddenly and I sighed, taking the opportunity to wiggle deeper into my nest and think about nothing for a while. ___

I hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but I was shocked when I opened my eyes next to find that twelve hours had passed, and I suddenly found myself the topic of the group chat. Maybe I’d grilled Thomas too hard yesterday.

Dan: We don’t know anything about her, why should we trust her?

Seriously Dan? After facilitating some weird deal between Thomas and Poke, you want to start throwing stones? Maybe guilt and deflection, but annoying nonetheless.

I let myself get truly frustrated with them for the first time, reminding them of their responsibility for the fact that they knew nothing about me. Not like I’d been nothing but a vehicle to find Hannah or something to all of them but Jessy, right?

MC: I mean MC: You could ask

Thomas: What?

MC: I don’t have a whole lot of reasons to lie to you MC: Not beyond like “oh yeah I definitely do floss every day”, at least MC: So don’t ask that one MC: I will lie about that

Dan: We can’t even know if you’re telling the truth!

MC: Right MC: But if we’re talking stranger danger, it’s kind of 5 against 1 already.

Dan: Fine, so tell us about yourself

MC: Well that’s super unhelpful MC: I at least ask you guys questions

Dan: You mean interrogate?

MC: Sure MC: Ask away

Jessy: What color is your hair?

MC: Ha!

I hit send while snorting before realizing that my amusement wouldn’t make sense to anyone in the group.

MC: Sorry, inside joke… not a very good one. MC: Brown normally MC: But I get bored with that a lot. MC: So like, less brown right now? I guess?

Jessy: Oooh! What colors has it been?

I smiled a little, of course Jessy would show something of an actual interest while simultaneously asking questions that helped nothing.

MC: Well, I’ve done red streaks. Not like yours, Jessy, they called it “fire-engine red”. Red fades so fast, so I only did that once. MC: High school was when I did most of it. It was pink for a while. MC: Kept it bleached for a while, but I’m not a good blonde. MC: Blue in college.

Thomas: Stop Thomas: Why are you doing this?

MC: Because she asked? And because if you guys keep not trusting me, we won’t get anywhere?

Thomas: No. I mean, why are you here?

MC: Because you added me to the group.

Thomas: You know what I’m asking

I groaned. I did, but where do you even start? How do I even explain, when I don’t really know myself? I knew I was on thin ice, though. Jessy liked me, and Cleo was open to me. But Thomas was, at best, neutral, Richy had barely spoken to me, Lilly was totally absent, and Dan… well, Dan was Dan.

What do you tell a group of strangers when they ask why you’re putting all of your energy into snooping around their personal lives?

The hope that Thomas seemed to be fueled by, that I’d have some unknown connection and solution to everything seemed to have vanished. And that had really been my only connection to these people.

“Sorry, I might want to bone the hacker you all hate, so I do what he tells me,” was pathetic on so many levels, and would do nothing to help me.

MC: Look MC: I’m an asshole, okay? My jokes are bad, I suck at people, and I’m just generally something of an acquired taste at best MC: But like, how do you walk away from people who want you to help find a missing person? MC: I don’t know her. It’s crazy I care this much. But Thomas, you sent me all those pictures MC: And you’ve all talked about her so much MC: And I read the articles about it online and that made it so real too MC: I don’t know if I’ll be useful. Frankly, I’m usually not even at the best of times MC: But on the tiniest chance I can be, and I don’t try? I don’t think I’m prepared to be that much of a shit person.

The silence after I wrote all of that stretched on long enough to make me sweat. Being genuine wasn’t something I practiced much, and I was mostly just glad I hadn’t had to say all of that out loud because I would have stumbled over it and messed it up somehow. However un-charismatic I was online, it was nothing compared to how I was in person.

After what felt like several minutes of nothing, I began frantically thinking of ways to take it all back. Despite the miles and miles between us, something about my words made me feel like I was standing in front of them all naked, so the lack of reply had me fighting not to claw my eyes out.

Finally, around the time I’d hunted down the dusty bottle of vodka I’d gotten as a gift for last Christmas and poured myself a glass with little enough juice that it did more for color than taste, there was movement in the chat.

Dan is typing…

Dan: Fine Dan: Stay

Dan is offline.

Cleo: Right, well… Welcome to the team.

I was a bit surprised to see the hesitation from Cleo, since she’d already called me at Hannah’s and admitted to several crimes, one of which I was complicit in. Maybe she’d only included me before since I was online and couldn’t stop her? Who knows.

Thomas is offline.

Cleo is offline.

Richy is offline.

Only Jessy and I remained, which I guess I could have predicted at that point. Considering her line of questioning, and our active personal chat, it made sense that she’d be the one least likely to need to mull over my outburst. Which is why, when I saw a notification pop up seconds later, I didn’t hesitate to press it without looking at the name.

As it turned out, It wasn’t from Jessy. Instead, the notification led me back to my chat with the Hacker.

???: You did surprisingly well.

Despite the fact that I’d normally bask a little bit in the compliment (however backhanded the qualifier made it feel), I only felt irritated. My frustration, insecurity and helplessness bubbled over, and even knowing how little he’d get those emotions from my words, he was the only one here to direct it at.

MC: Thanks? I think? MC: Or are you just surprised they didn’t boot me out of the chat? MC: Look, I want to help, but you saw how that just went. MC: I don’t do this, okay? I don’t know how to get people to like me, or trust me, or want to talk to me. Everyone who puts up with me in real life are either people who met me when we were young enough that being edgy and bitchy seemed cool, liked my mom enough to feel like they have to make sure I’m alive, or are getting paid in one way or the other.

???: I believe it went well, MC. You were quite convincing.

MC: Pf. Hardly. For Hannah, you need to find someone else. I can still do the cloud stuff if you want, but there’s got to be someone better to talk to the group.

The moment I hit send, a notification from the person I’d been expecting earlier appeared at the top of my screen.

Jessy: MC! I’m so sorry they acted so mean Jessy: They’re not usually like that, they’re scared. But that’s no excuse. Jessy: You almost made me cry!

MC: I’m sorry!

Jessy: No no, it was so nice! 🥰

MC: Mmh, Jessy, I made everyone run away.

Jessy: Trust me, they just didn’t know what to say. They hate being wrong!

While I wracked my brain trying to formulate a response, another notification popped up that I didn’t even bother to click this time.

???: ;)

Smug bastard. ___

After that, things were a little less tense in the group chat. The majority still weren’t particularly friendly, but they’d at least seem to accept my presence. Dan was still kind of an asshole, but in a kind of way that I was used to, so I didn’t let it bother me. He seemed like the sort that people just kind of ignored most of the time, and I knew what that was like.

The chat wasn’t what I’d consider active, but they checked in on each other occasionally, tried to cheer each other up and touched base with platitudes and support.

Jessy: MC Jessy: … Jessy: You there? Jessy: MCCCCC

Huh. It was strange for me to be addressed directly at the start of a conversation, but the fact that it was Jessy made it make a little more sense. I suspected she was trying to include me more and humanize me to the rest, a mission she’d kind of taken up recently.

MC: Hi! Sorry, I got a call.

Jessy: Aren’t you popular?

MC: No, no, never. Work. 😩

Jessy: Oh! You know, I don’t think we’ve ever talked about your job.

MC: Well, yeah, it’s not really been important.

Other than my chats with Jessy, and the time Thomas had grilled me about my intentions, discussing me had been pretty low priority. I’d chime in here and there when the group chat dipped into the easy flow that happened in messages between old friends. And I never missed a chance to make a sassy comment or comment, which they’d quickly learned to ignore or roll their eyes at.

But it was true that in their eyes, I was still just a stranger. Even as I slowly started forming pictures of their lives and getting pulled deeper into Hannah’s world, the group as a whole still didn’t even know my last name. I hadn’t offered it, but they didn’t ask either.

After my hidden meltdown when the body was discovered not to be Hannah’s, I’d probably put up some barriers trying not to totally lose myself in their lives. It was wearing on my mental health in a pretty serious way, so while Jessy and I were continuing to bond, and Cleo had started talking to me more, I felt a bit detached overall.

Jessy: Still! Jessy: You’re always on your phone Jessy: Every time I’m on

I snorted at that, mainly because it wasn’t totally true. I wasn’t a morning person, and she was bright and sunny enough to be way too much until I’d gotten at least two cups of coffee in me. But after that, I did give my phone nearly my full attention.

MC: That’s what my boss just said on our call, haha. 🙃 MC: I work remotely, so I’ve got some flexibility MC: But I’ve been pushing that lately MC: And unlike someone, I’m not cute enough to get away with it

Richy: 😳

For all Jessy tried to hide when she texted non-stop at work, it was actually the worst kept secret. Especially since Richy was on nearly as much during the day. They didn’t acknowledge each other over chat all that much, but there was no way they didn’t notice they were both on.

But since it was just as obvious that Richy wanted to date Jessy…

Jessy: 😤 Jessy: But what do you do?

Of course neither would acknowledge it. They both knew, even if they wanted to pretend they didn’t. I was surprised the group didn’t heckle them for it more. Yet another way they differed from mine, I guess. I’d never live it down with them.

MC: Nothing very exciting. I’m called a “Customer Communication Quality Assurance Analyst”

Jessy: Right…

Yep, that was the usual reaction alright.

MC: Told you 🤣 MC: You know how when you call customer service, that message plays? MC: About your call being recorded? MC: Some companies review those in-house, but others contract out to a firm MC: So I work for one of those

Dan: You’re joking

He didn’t usually get involved when I was talking. He’d respond to the others, of course, but for the most part he preferred to ignore me completely. This would be interesting.

MC: No… why would I be?

Dan: You spend all day spying on people’s calls Dan: Just to open your phone Dan: And interrogate us

I actually was a little more offended than I should have been, which probably gave his point more credence. Still, it felt like there was a note of teasing to it that maybe could work in my favor if I played it right.

MC: Okay MC: Well when you put it that way MC: My life just sounds sad MC: And kind of creepy 😒

Dan: I mean, isn’t it?

MC: Hey 😤 MC: But actually MC: I wanted to be a teacher when I was younger

Jessy: Really?? That’s so cool

I hadn’t meant to prolong this conversation, but since Jessy had definitely become the one that both liked me best and I’d been most open with, maybe it would be useful to let them in a little.

And it was definitely for Hannah and not because I wanted the acceptance of these people. Of course.

MC: Mmh, no, not really. MC: Could have saved myself a lot of time and money if I’d remembered I don’t like dealing with people that much

Jessy: What do you mean? Jessy: You’re so friendly!

Friendly? Jessy, I’m a raging bitch, covering up for the self-esteem of a goldfish with sarcasm and fake arrogance, the mouth of a sailor, and the gutter-mind of a 16 year old boy. Was that friendly?

MC: Sure, to people I like MC: But I made the mistake of being a TA in undergrad MC: Turns out, people can be really dumb and I have no patience 🤓

Cleo: MC!

Yeah. That would be a bit far for Cleo. She was nice enough, of course, but probably the one that struggled the most with my more insulting quips. Well, Thomas and Lilly hadn’t been much involved with me either, so maybe they’d have been yelling at me even more. Who knows?

MC: Yes, yes. I’ll be nice MC: I just get frustrated easily, I guess. MC: Having to explain something over and over

Dan: Mmh, I’m trying to picture you as a teacher. It’s kind of funny.

I felt a surge of pride in realizing I’d kept Dan at least marginally engaged. Though actually, in other circumstances he might have actually been the one I was the most similar to. He seemed to also lack a filter and the capability to recognize when running his mouth was okay.

MC: Funny isn’t the word I’d have used

Jessy: Poor you 😫

MC: If I’m being honest, probably poor them

Jessy: Oh no

MC: 😉 MC: It was better for everyone that I got out of that line of work MC: But it was too late to change my degree unless I wanted to spend way too much time backtracking MC: So I just found a job that would take a degree, no matter what it was. MC: So now, here I am MC: Both professional and amatuer spy MC: Apparently

Jessy: That suits you somehow

MC: I don’t know what to say to that MC: Should I be insulted or…?

Again, realizing my role in this group was still barely above the Hacker’s as far as my motives made my heart sink. They were right. My job here was to investigate, spy and uncover. But since I hadn’t really made them aware of just how creepy I was being, I was surprised to see that they considered me a “spy”, or even investigator.

Jessy: No no! I just meant that you see things others miss Jessy: So it works for you

MC: Oh okay

Dan: Yeah, you’re a regular Sherlock Holmes

MC: Nah, he at least had cocaine to keep him awake. MC: I’m probably more like Harriet the Spy, tbh. 😂

The conversation didn’t continue after that, but I almost felt like I’d earned Dan’s respect even just the tiniest bit with that one. ___

I was somewhat caught off-guard when Richy added me after discussing the Man Without a Face in the legends chat that Jessy had made for us. I agreed with him that Jessy seemed more eager to latch onto the legend than most people would, but it made sense that she’d want to seize any chance she saw to step back from the idea that the killer could be human.

For my part, the more I thought on the idea that someone would be masquerading as this mythical avenger, the more I saw it as a viable concept. Killers, especially ones that consider themselves righteous, love to glom onto characters that get across the message they want to embody.

My true crime podcasts taught me that much at least.

I teased him about Jessy more to get him off balance than to confirm he liked her— that much was already obvious. I wasn’t crazy about the power dynamics at play there, with him being her boss, but that seemed kind of like a thing that just happened in small towns. There were only so many people to start with.

I considered lightly flirting with him to see if that was a better tactic, but frankly I couldn’t bring myself to. Jessy was a friend, and she seemed to like him too. I didn’t think he’d ever get up the nerve to ask her, but there was only so much playing in their lives I could justify before it felt icky.

Besides that, there was the question of my shadow.

Ruminating on that led me back to decrypting, a habit I’d taken up while trying to avoid thinking too much on him, his motives, and how much he even noticed about me. Ironically, decryption was the thing that should remind me the most of him, but I could generally focus on Hannah while doing the most annoying parts, since it was to benefit her.

Sometimes I wondered how she would feel once she was safe. I couldn’t imagine she’d be interested in much to do with me— I was still pretty convinced she hadn’t sent my number— as I’d be mostly a reminder about this horrible time in her life. But would she resent me for the intrusions I’d made into her private life?

As if sensing my guilt, the next file I opened was clearly another diary entry, once again filled with emotional conflict. It as much more straightforward than the last, written with a bit more clarity and thought rather than vomiting words up as they appeared in her head.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I read over it a second time. I knew I had to send this to the Hacker, but Hannah’s distress had really been the only thing to faze him since that first, frantic call to her friends. I worried that this one, likely even direct enough for him to grasp the emotion behind, would cause him even more grief.

But he’d also be furious if he found out I kept something from him, even—or maybe especially— if it was out of a desire to protect him. Sighing guiltily, I sent it to him to discuss.

The conversation went a bit unexpectedly, though. Maybe he’d come to terms with our previous findings enough to prepare himself for this one, or maybe he was glad to have something a bit less hard to understand. He probably didn’t read much poetry with his flaw.

I wasn’t prepared for the fucking praise, though. Or really, my reaction to it was the problem. Instead of feeling patronized, it sent a bit of a jolt through me. So damn stupid, getting worked up over some guy telling you that you did a good job. I knew I had a bit of a submissive side but Jesus, really?

Wait. Could he have found that particular… interest… of mine when reading through my chats? Jessy and I got a bit detailed at times when discussing our preferences, after she got used to me it seemed like she enjoyed having someone to discuss things with.

What else had he seen on my phone and devices? He admitted to having full access but said he only looked at case-related things. Still, there was a lot of bullshit to wade through in order to find those case-related items. After he’d said not to worry about offending him, I’d mostly tried to forget he was there whenever I messaged people or screwed around on the internet.

But all it would take was one poorly timed screen-mirror and…

I scrambled to try to remember my recent activities and felt my face burn when I considered all of the possibilities. I wasn’t one to watch risqué videos, being more into reading and writing to alleviate my frustrations.

Cool. Great. Awesome. He probably knew everything about my kinks and I didn’t know his name.

As freaked out as I was, the fact that I still didn’t know his name was starting to bother me. Especially in light of this recent realization. I could do it, right? Just ask his name? I mean, we’d been talking a while, he said he trusted me. I got the feeling I’d never see his face or talk to him without the distortion, but his name was innocent enough.

Before I could chicken out, I typed it out, as a request rather than a question, and hit send.

Of course he’d ask why I cared. Of course it seemed ridiculous to him, I’d already suspected he had no idea what signals I’d tried to throw out.

Would it hurt to try to be more obvious? I wondered. I was cringing at my screen now, trying to both type and shut my eyes to what I was saying as I admitted to liking him. I tried to make a joke of it, using the damn smilies Jessy had gotten me addicted to, but even someone who couldn’t read had to be able to just smell the pheromones and insecurity dripping off of every word.

Jake.

The emotional high of learning that, of being able to greet him properly for the first time, dampened a bit from the clear regret he immediately expressed. Still, he hadn’t left yet, so I I tried to salvage things a little.

Are you dating someone?

How could I not have melted at that? It was the most overt he’d ever been by far. So even when he fled again, I couldn’t keep the stupid grin off of my face. ___

I was pretty ashamed to only realize that Cleo had never gotten back to me about the situation with Thomas until she reached out again, saying that she needed to clear her head before we talked. Still, I should have checked in about it long before now, so the guilt of making it about me, again, pushed away the good feelings from earlier.

Learning that Thomas and Hannah had been arguing, that he no longer had a key to her apartment despite clearly having a way to access it, just solidified my need to check further into him.

Goddamn it folks, stop being shady and stop not telling me things. How is it this fucking hard?

I pinched my nose, attempting to slow my breathing. But learning that he took something from the apartment just shot my blood pressure back up through the roof.

I’d drank as much during this investigation— even ignoring my night out with Annie at the start— as I normally did in a year but I still couldn’t escape the urge for a shot. It was barely mid-afternoon so I resisted the urge, but barely. ___

After getting the book number for Jessy, Jake (that still felt weird) let me know he’d found Poke’s number. I got nervous when he revealed I’d have to call rather than text— I was a millennial, that’s my actual nightmare— and a little frustrated when he seemed to minimize the risk to me again. At this point, he should know I’d stick around even when I’m scared. But it would be really nice to whine and be comforted for five minutes before handing my number over to a suspected criminal.

Still, I suspected that being comforting wasn’t particularly his style, and that even if he wanted to, he’d have very little reference for how to do it.

And there was no denying that of the two of us, I was the better choice for handling the people part. I mean, we were still screwed, but I kind of suspected I was the only person he’d managed to charm recently and I still wasn’t totally possible how he’s done that.

So I groaned, put on my big girl panties, and called. ___

A locksmith. All of this cloak and dagger bullshit over a locksmith. A clearly unethical one, but why the hell would they not just pretend like Thomas had lost his own key or something instead of acting like the sketchiest fucking losers alive?

I wasn’t proud of my past associations, but I’d seen drug deals discussed with more grace than these folks were handling an exchange with a perfectly legal business and an obvious cover story.

Not to mention, why the hell did Thomas not know where her spare key was if Cleo did? I wasn’t sure how long they’d been dating, but it was probably long enough for him to know where her spare key was.

For some reason, I started to suspect less that the culprit was either Dan or Thomas, mainly because they apparently made the stupidest damn criminals I’d ever met.

Hannah, your friends are going to be the death of me, I swear. ___

As the group chat exploded into drama over Phil, I groaned out loud. A fight was a long time coming, especially between Cleo and Jessy, but did it have to be now?

I was working when it started, trying to clear my inbox that I was sorely behind on dealing with. Several of the calls I’d reviewed today had serious violations and one of the clients took the negative feedback really poorly. I’d had enough yelling for this week, thank you.

Annie popped open a can of coke behind me and leaned over to look beyond my shoulder at my phone. I tried to casually block her from seeing, but she was tall enough to catch sight of it anyway.

“Hey is that Jessy? How is she?”

“Fine,” I muttered, locking my phone screen and trying to ignore the rapid-fire buzzing.

“What crawled up your ass?” She snarked, eying up my tense posture and tight expression.

“Nothing, Annie, I’m just trying to work and no one will leave me alone!” I snapped, pushing my keyboard away from me in frustration.

She threw her hands up in surrender. “Jeez, sorry, I was just trying to help.” She turned away from me, toward her room, and took a loud slurp of her coke as she walked. “Let me know when you’re less of a bitch.”

“Right,” I mumbled to myself, getting myself more settled into my chair. “Focus.”

The incessant vibration wouldn’t let me, though, and I realized that I wasn’t going to get anything done until it stopped. Sighing louder than necessary, I once again got involved in something that had no good reason to be my business.

I felt bad for being relieved when Jessy stormed off and things cooled down relatively quickly after that. I reminded myself to reach out to her later, even though I knew she wasn’t the sort who liked to be left alone while she was emotional.

The information about Phil was interesting, though. It wasn’t particularly a side of Hannah I’d heard anything about. But then, I’d only heard about her from people who loved her, and it already seemed like no one knew about her depression.

And boy didn’t I know the kind of questionable decisions depression could lead to. Not to mention, having learned that Thomas returned his key during a fight made me wonder exactly what their relationship was at the time of her disappearance. If they were broken up, maybe she’d been acting out her heartbreak in a way that would raise eyebrows in a small town.

I suppose she could have been taken by a partner after all. Just not the one we knew about.

At the same time, Phil’s comments bordered on the Nice Guy style bullshit I and my friends had heard so often after turning a guy down. Men love to call women sluts for not sleeping with them.

No, I was supposed to be focusing on work. Work. It was bad enough to put off responsibilities for a kidnapping case, it was another to instead speculate on a woman’s sex life when I’d never met her.

Yet I was glad Richy was going to talk to Phil.

I managed to get through about half a day’s work before my phone started again. Spy mode was getting old fast, I have no idea why Jake liked this shit. I just don’t care about other people’s crap this much. I don’t even want to deal with my own social life!

Though it did catch my eye to see that Jessy and Dan were going on a date. Hadn’t seen that one coming, she’d never shown much of a soft spot for him and Dan didn’t strike me as particularly romantic.

But maybe I was just bitter considering “are you single” was the hottest my current relationship had gotten so far.

So much for doing work, I griped and started logging out for the day. Once I started brooding over things with Jake, I was never going to get back on track. I’d learned that the hard way.

Pretending it wasn’t at all to talk to him, I made my way out to the garden and curled up next to a bush to start decrypting in the sun. ___

The sun had set by the time I managed to get anything, but for the first time the picture made me pause.

A Raven.

To be honest, a large part of me figured it was stupid kids. If this legend was as well known in the city as Jessy and Richy had implied, then it made sense for jagoff teenagers to run around marking things up with it. It was at least more creative than just doing penises like most of the graffiti I saw.

But it wouldn’t do to just dismiss it outright either.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more intriguing it was. Because it didn’t matter if it was just graffiti. The how or why of it being there might be totally irrelevant.

But what made it important was that Hannah thought it was important.

I suppose she could have just thought it was cool, or maybe she was interested in the legend or wanted to show Jessy, who clearly had a strong interest in the macabre. But not long after she’d taken it, she’d supposedly been dragged into the woods by the man this symbol was meant to represent.

Had she been pursuing him rather than the other way round?

Trying to get around explaining to Richy and Jessy where I’d gotten the picture was a bit awkward. They seemed to know I was investigating on some level, and they knew I was in touch with Jake. But they hadn’t really put those things together or realized how deep I was digging, and I was pretty grateful for that. They would have to be offended on her behalf. I was offended on her behalf sometimes.

But like, the police would be doing it too, right? Going through her personal life and putting it under a microscope, analyzing every word she said and who she said it to. At least I wasn’t her neighbor, her pastor, or anyone she had to deal with regularly. That had to be a comfort, I hoped.

But I appreciated Jessy keeping Richy from asking more, either way. Her trust touched me, and made things much simpler for now. And processing this with someone other than Jake was strangely nice, despite how much I enjoyed talking to him.

Of course, then Richy had to get in a parting shot about where I got the picture. And the worst part is, he wasn’t even wrong. |___

The guilt of all— the hiding, the lying, the half-ignored responsibilities— it started weighing on me after that. Too much was at stake to back down now, but I could feel the suspicion pointed at me, and it was deserved.

I wasn’t above half-truths or even the occasional lie, really. Sometimes it was just easier and better for everyone if the truth went unsaid. But this was snowballing out of control and I didn’t know how to stop it.

So I confessed the only thing I could think of that might not ruin everything.

MC: Jake?

Jake is online.

Jake: Hello, MC. Jake: Is everything alright?

MC: I lied before. MC: And cheated.

I paused, trying to think of how to say it. Which I knew I should have considered before I even started the conversation, but planning wasn’t my strong suit when my emotions got the better of me.

Jake is typing…

Jake: To what are you referring?

Right. I’d gotten so used to him reading things and knowing what I meant before I said it that I just kind of assumed he knew what was going on in my head.

MC: The bet. MC: I’m sending your credits back.

After hitting enter, I quickly opened the app he’d sent me my winnings through and sent them all back. I hadn’t done anything with them, it felt kind of gross.

Jake: I appreciate your honesty, but I’m not sure I understand. You found the information more quickly than I could.

MC: Right, well. That’s because I already knew what SSRIs were for. I’ve been on them for years. MC: I’ve been depressed since I was a teenager. I don’t even know why I pretended. MC: I was just surprised you didn’t know already and then you were SO shocked and uncomfortable about Hannah and I got worried you’d think differently of me too so I just went with it.

He typed and erased several times, and my mind became a whirlwind of regret. Why was I doing this? He didn’t ask to hear all about my problems. It wasn’t like I’d conned him out of a huge prize. But I was so tired of lying, and lying to him felt especially wrong after he’d been letting me in.

Jake: MC, I never thought less of Hannah for her depression. I was upset to find out that she was suffering.

MC: It seemed like you were, I don’t know, struggling with your perception of her.

Jake: Not in a negative way, not toward her. And I am sorry that it made you feel like you had to hide or be ashamed in any way.

MC: I’m usually not like this with it, you know? I mean in high school I was, but that went super poorly so I made myself talk about it.

Jake: You do not have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.

MC: No, I want you to know. It’s a part of my life. And really so much about me makes way more sense when you realize my brain doesn’t really do what it’s supposed to. MC: Sorry, dark humor is my main coping mechanism.

Jake: I had noticed.

MC: Yeah, it’s not particularly subtle. MC: And just so you know, I’m stable. The meds help, and I do therapy as needed. There are still bad days and stuff but that’s always going to be true. MC: That’s part of why I kept pushing about you realizing it was possible that Hannah had hurt herself, too. MC: Like you said, that’s not the case here since you saw it. But it does happen. And I know my friends and family were even more upset when something would happen because it caught them off guard.

Jake: Is that something

Jake is typing…

MC: Let’s save that conversation for another day, maybe?

Jake: Of course.

MC: But the good news is that maybe it means I can provide some different perspectives on things, right? Like that first cloud entry. MC: Really, I just have to hope that if I get kidnapped no one gives enough of a shit to sort through my stuff like this because there’s nothing good to be found in my sad folder.

Jake: “Sad folder”?

MC: Don’t even try, it’s super old and on a flash drive somewhere that hopefully fell out of whatever box I put it in when I moved here and got crushed by several cars.

Jake: How oddly specific.

MC: Fantasies are what keep a girl going, right? MC: Jake? MC: Thank you for listening.

Jake: :)

Jake: Thank you for your trust.

Jake is offline.

Later, after the third or so time that I re-read our conversation, I tried to work out exactly what it was that made trust so important to him. In our particular situation, we did need to trust each other to a point, but somehow it seemed bigger than that. It was like my trust was some precious trinket to him that he was grateful for each reminder of.

Admittedly, at times that trust felt a little bit more like blind faith, even toeing the line on being foolish. But my instincts told me that he was involved for the right reasons, even if sometimes his methods were at times a bit cold. ___

Somehow, maybe the drink I’d mixed while getting ready for my date with Jessy, it hadn’t occurred to me to think that Jake might have been reading along. I’d gotten used to it by that point, hell, sometimes it even felt reassuring. But it wasn’t until it had started winding down and he messaged me that I realized.

Jake: Hello, MC.

MC: Hello, Jake

He always greeted me so formally, it made me think of a handshake and firm eye contact. I chuckled, picturing us meeting for the first time with a handshake.

Shaking my head at myself, I looked down at my phone.

Jake is typing…

Here, he erased, paused, and started again.

Jake is typing…

After a few minutes of waiting, I started to get concerned.

MC: Is everything okay?

Jake: Did you enjoy your evening?

MC: So you were reading along again 😆

Jake: Yes, it seemed interesting that she chose to cancel her date to speak to you. I wanted to see if there was any information that could be useful to us.

MC: Well, did you see anything interesting?

Jake: Why do you believe that she made the decision to stay home and speak to you?

I wondered for a second if it bothered him. We’d never explicitly discussed my sexuality, and Jessy and my rapport sometimes played hopscotch with the line between bubbly and flirty in that way that every bisexual woman has been confused by at some point in their lives.

MC: Because I’m great 😎 MC: But also Dan kind of sucks

Jake: Regardless, I imagine she would have had a more enjoyable time going out rather than making small talk over orange juice.

MC: Depends on the company I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

Jake is typing…

MC: Did I make it weird again?

Jake: No. Jake: Of course not. Jake: A virtual date was simply a concept I was previously unaware of.

Jake never really spoke informally, but at least lately he’d seemed a little less… stiff. I groaned, suspecting that, despite his denial, I’d made it weird.

MC: Well MC: I think the voice distortion and hidden face might make it a bit more difficult for you MC: My mom did tell me not to talk to strange men online 😂

Jake is offline.

And there it is. Not surprising, that could easily have been viewed as an insult. Especially after we’d been seemingly getting closer lately. But my life had totally been taken over by strange men on the internet lately, so I considered it somewhat fair to at least acknowledge that it was weird.

MC: Look, sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. My mom WOULD be rather annoyed if she saw me now. But it’s not like this is even the worst thing I’ve done. MC: Really I think I’m mostly surprised that you haven’t had a virtual date before. MC: It seems like that’d be right up your alley. Computers and girls at the same time.

His status didn’t change after my messages, so after a few minutes I let myself bonelessly sprawl across the couch and sigh. I read through a few bullshit articles online, shared some memes on Facebook, and waited to see if he’d log back on. That had happened a few times, after he’d done whatever he needed to in order to get over the embarrassment, annoyance, or brain breaking I’d subjected him to. He did need me, to a degree, and as inconvenient as my personality was for him, it was more to his benefit to keep me sweet.

Which probably made me a bad person for taking advantage of that for my own amusement just a little. But he could well be using me to find his friend so at least we both got something out of it.

It took longer than usual for him to come back this time, maybe I’d really pissed him off. But around the time I’d started scrolling through some cat pictures on Reddit, he came back.

Jake is online.

Jake: My apologies, something needed my immediate attention. Jake: I don’t know how my small talk abilities didn’t make it abundantly clear, but I haven’t had the time or opportunity for many dates in the recent past, virtual or not.

My eyes widened a tiny bit. Personal information AND multiple contractions? The language was still very stiff, of course, but there was a tiny bit less formality than earlier. Maybe he wasn’t reading as closely before he hit send. Trying not to chicken out?

Pure speculation, but I liked the thought.

MC: Shame. They can be fun, even without the orange juice. MC: What with the pandemic and all, it was that or nothing, so I tried my hand at it a few times. MC: Nothing came of it but you know. It passes the time.

Jake: Is that where your ability to connect with the group without meeting came from?

Interesting question, even feeling a bit loaded. I’d already confirmed I was single, of course, and I’d said I liked him more than once by now. But that still left a lot of room between “hermit” and “almost having a partner”, and I wondered if he was trying to suss that out.

MC: Not entirely. Most of my friendships are online ever since I moved a few years ago. I’m not the greatest at initiating conversation so I’ve mostly stuck with keeping in touch with them. MC: Keeping and forming connections aren’t the exact same, but since this lot seems to keep me close because Hannah sent my number, it helps.

Jake: I refuse to believe that you aren’t good at initiating. Jake: Conversation.

Oh, that made me laugh. I wanted desperately to push a little harder on that one, but he’d already logged off once and I was really enjoying talking to him. I got up and poured myself another glass to help me relax a bit further, since the one from my date with Jessy had started to wear off.

MC: I’m actually very shy at first, believe it or not. It’s only once I get comfortable with someone that I become the giant pain in the ass you see before you.

Jake: Does that mean you feel comfortable with me?

MC: Clearly. That’s how transitive property works, right?

Jake: Are you sure that’s the transitive property?

MC: Nope, but it is now.

Jake: Haha. Jake: You are quite intriguing.

MC: Boy, you know how to charm a girl. I guess “intriguing” certainly isn’t the worst I’ve been called though.

Jake is typing…

He stopped. I again waited for him to log off, but after several long beats, he hadn’t. I decided to put him out of his misery a little.

MC: So how much were you able to dig up on me? I’ve been curious. MC: I can only assume by this point that you know more about me than I do.

If he was surprised or unnerved by the change in topic, he didn’t show it.

Jake: I looked, of course, before I gave you access to Hannah’s information and the spy mode. Jake: It was possible that the reason she had your number was because you were the culprit.

MC: Guess being across the world helped reassure you.

Jake: That was part of it. Jake: Additionally, everything I saw pointed towards you being a perfectly normal woman.

MC: Normal? You must be bad at your job, sir. MC: But you didn’t actually answer what you dug up.

Jake: No, I did not. Jake: But I suppose you deserve to know. Jake: As you’ve mentioned, I have access to your phone. That allowed me to find your social media profiles and email very quickly. Jake: You don’t list your job on social media, interestingly. Nor the last several.

MC: No way I’m making it easier for them to find the shit I say. MC: I’m not sure I’d get fired faster for the nerdy bullshit or the liberal rants.

Jake: It’s a good idea to keep those separate, of course. Jake: It still would not be impossible to find. Jake: But you also use a nickname on social media and your legal name for work. Jake: And separate emails. Jake: That helps as well.

MC: My, are you this thorough with everything you do? MC: But the analysis is good. Though I’m sure you still found more.

I grinned into my glass a little. There was a chance he wouldn’t pick up on the suggestion behind my comment, but I wouldn’t mind letting him stew on it just the tiniest bit if he managed to.

Jake: Of course. Being thorough is required in my line of work, so it’s part of my nature.

Damn. Just enough that he could still be talking about hacking. Or he could be volleying it back. And in order to know, I’d have to be more obvious. But I couldn’t let him win like that, so I decided to let it go for now.

MC: I’m not that easily deterred. If you found my work email, you found my LinkedIn.

Jake: Yes, of course.

MC: And knowing my email means you know the username for just about everything.

Jake: Yes.

MC: So, anything interesting?

Jake: Well, to be honest, once I’d found your socials and work information, I had enough to determine you were safe to contact.

MC: And I totally believe that someone we’ve established as being painstakingly thorough stopped there.

Jake: After some of our conversations where I revealed more details to you, I did look a bit further. I connected you to an old username it doesn’t seem you use any longer.

Oh, damn. I should have expected that, but suddenly realized just how many old profiles I had under that name. Everything from dating profiles, to forums, to fanfiction. It went back as far as middle school.

Jake: I stopped after finding an old Xanga and LiveJournal. At that point, it no longer felt appropriate.

Okay, maybe he didn’t find my RPG posts. I hoped.

MC: I would have thought you’d find those entertaining. I was pretty angsty and faux-deep. Almost as bad as my sad folder. MC: Loved me some sparkly HTML backgrounds. MC: I got them all from a source of course, we can’t all be geniuses, and I considered myself something of a writer at the time. Coding was never my thing.

Hopefully, leaning into the embarrassment would get rid of the blush on my face. Plus, the second glass of wine was certainly helping to loosen my lips, er, fingers.

Jake: To be totally honest, I was far too busy remembering my own teenage angst to focus too heavily on yours. Jake: I scrubbed my own profiles years ago.

I smirked.

MC: Hm, now I’m curious what you used. MC: You can’t be too much younger than me if Xanga and LJ brought you back. MC: But I guess you could still be a late MySpace, early Facebook user and still remember those. MC: I’d bet good money you got your hands on a computer young, and probably had even less oversight than I did.

Jake: Mmh, but I thought your mom told you to be afraid of internet strangers.

MC: But she also believed I’d listen. It’s like she didn’t even know me. 🤭 MC: You’re probably not even the worst stranger danger I’ve let myself get involved with.

Another pause, but this one felt a little more comfortable. Maybe he was curious and wondering if he should ask. Or maybe he was pondering the meaning of “get involved with”. Maybe he just didn’t know how to reply.

Still, this time felt rather friendly, like the last hour or so had relaxed something in us both. I had no idea if he was flirting back or just clueless, but I didn’t sense any discomfort beyond maybe uncertainty.

Jake: MC, I have to go. Jake: But thank you, I enjoyed this time.

MC: Hopefully it made good practice for your next virtual date. 😝

Why would I say that? And why did that thought bother me that badly? Of him taking our conversation and using it to charm someone else?

That’s not good.

Jake: We shall see. Jake: :)

Well, fuck.

Honestly, I probably could have dwelled on that for the rest of the night. But nothing sobers a girl up and jerks her out of daydreaming about men quite like a rapid fire confession of lawbreaking from someone who you thought hated you, discovery of a lead on a kidnapping case, and realizing that the initials on that same lead may well match the initials of the guy you were just daydreaming about.

After a nearly sleepless night, I would come to realize that nothing cleared up exhaustion quite like a threatening call and learning that someone you knew was barely clinging to life, either.

#duskwood fanfic #duskwood mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fandom #duskwood #mc x jake #jake x mc #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 1 year

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More hcs cuz it’s my blog and I have a terrible memory of what I have or have not posted.

Specific nightmares that the couples comfort each other

Elena's worst reoccurring nightmare is that she is stuck in the amulet. Only the amulet doesn't belong to anyone, it's just a ancient artifact buried in the dirt so it's very unlikely that she will be released again any time soon. And in the amulet she experienced the same claustrophobia and isolation as before only with a clear image of Shuriki killing everyone she loves. Over and over and over. Mateo's worst would be probably related to his dad or grandfather and failing. His worst would be like a vital moment in battle where he is supposed to do a spell and he just freezes, or messes up. Causing the battle to be lost and everyone dies, Avalor is brought to ruin and magic is banned once more. The guilt and shame eats him up as he thinks of all those who trusted him and believed in him, like Rafa and Alcazar and most of all, Elena and he failed them. Or alternatively his over-ambition causes the same results.

Gabe's worst reoccurring nightmare would probably just him as captain leading his troops into a massacre. Simply having his friends and comrades dying is enough but being the one who made the decision that led to it..worse. Probably just to rub it in would be the familiar disappointed look in Roberto's eyes and then Blanca turning away from him too. For once not on his side. Isabel's is very similar to Elena in that she is just stuck in an endless loop of seeing her parents death only it's worse. Since she didn't get to witness it, her imagination takes it to all the worse routes Shuriki could have done. Then always ending with an heart pounding chase where Shuriki is close to her heels, always closer and cornering her.

Naomi's worst nightmare would have to be something like being ignored and cast aside while someone who is more qualified and royal than her takes her place as Elena's friend, and in the council. But the kicker would be that she is speaking but no one is listening, it's like she's invisible.

Esteban's worst nightmare is depending on the big secret reveal. Pre-secret revel would be the family finding out about his secret and since we already discussed, their painful reactions of sadness, anger, confusion and betrayal at his treason. Compounded by the rest of Avalor shunning him. Pre/Post-secret reveal would be just the memory of him hiding like a coward as Shuriki invaded the palace, killing his aunt and uncle. Doña's worst nightmare is being poor again. Alone and slowly painfully starving to death.

Favorite game Eleteo: A kiss off! No no I'm joking. Maybe tag or hide and seek. But no, not just any. But a magical version where they use their skills in order to find each other. There is also a lot of running and flying around as the two try to escape each other's grasp and tease the other. Of course, the winner gets a kiss and whatever they want but the chase is just part of the fun. Gabenaomi: Olaball. Those two would have a blast running around trying to get each other's goal and showing off their sweet moves. Of course, it also involves a lot of tackling, shoving and joking around and the winner gets to choose the date or the number of goals is the number of kisses the winner gets. Estenaomi: Charades surprisingly. They are very good at deciphering what the other is attempting to say. Like Naomi's odd looking "dance" is her playing Pete with an eyepatch and a monkey. Gababel: Board games of any sort. Usually scrabble or some sort of monopoly that they switch off for more romantic questions or prizes. Estoma: Pool. It can get pretty intense what with their need to destroy each other. It can also be pretty hilarious when they have a "no holds barred" competitions and try all manners of distractions and cheating so they can win

Who curses when they argue? Eleteo: Neither. They very much prefer actually talking out their problems than yelling and screaming in anger at each other sinc that is counterproductive. Also I can't see Mateo having a cursing bone in his body and Elena wouldn't use that kind of harsh language to someone she loves. Gabenaomi: Naomi. Blame the sailor's tongue but she can start cursing up a storm. And though Gabe tries not to do it in a girl's presence (yes, Mama Blanca drilled it in) he would start too. Gababel: Again neither. For the same reasons as Eleteo.

Who wears the other clothes sometimes? Eleteo: Elena sometimes wears Mateo's oversized shirts on a lazy Sunday morning without shame and sometime teasing that she should just wear it to her meetings. She also puts on wizards robes (Yes yes yes basically it's your fic. You are totally right in that Elena would put on Mateo's wizard robe. It's just so comfy and warm and smells just like him.) I couldn't resist. Gabenaomi: They don't really do that. Although Naomi has nabbed Gabe's guard jacket once or twice on a cold winter night at sea. As well as shirt:) She says he has to practice his ability to withstand cold temperatures but Gabe thinks it more has to do with his gazing at his pecs. Gababel: Neither would. Just the size difference between them, it's ridiculous to try. Although Gabe's shirts make nice nightgowns lol Estebaomi: A few times, Esteban has tried Naomi's clothes on account of her dares much to Naomi's personal amusement. Naomi does the same and dresses in Esteban’s fancy suits and shirts. Usually for fun. Estoma: Very rarely, though once Esteban went out in Doña's robe which he staunchly insists was a traditional Satu kimono.

Who gives piggybacks rides? Eleteo: Mateo tries to give Elena some but upper muscular strength isn't one of his fortes. Besides doing it with magic isn't the same. Sometimes Elena gives him some and there is just a lot of awkward fumbling, falling and laughter. Gabenaomi: Uh Gabe duh! Oftentimes Naomi will come running and hop on Gabe's back when he least expects it and then insists on a piggyback ride to whatever destination. Or joke that he is like her own Fuego. Gababel: Gabe again, but he is the one who usually offers to ride her around and makes it a fun bumpy galloping ride. Estenaomi: Both. Naomi more often that not thanks to Esteban’s drama king ways on hiking trips or when he is sick.

Who arranges for a day off Eleteo: Elena arranges for special days off from work in the kingdom and work for the wizard so they could spend time together. Usually the dates vary between exploring the kingdom more, horse/Jaquin riding, swimming, picnics on the palace grounds, a day at the fireplace, fancy dinner and waltz. As long as they are together, they're happy. Elena is usually bounding with more enthusiasm and happiness than usual and Mateo just adores her smile. Gabenaomi: Naomi does with some help from Elena to get Gabe away from Captain work, and they spend the day doing whatever comes to mind first. They tend to be more spontaneous in that sense. Gababal: Once more, Isabel does since she can easily figure out a break in her schedule and see abiut guard duty. They spend more time at home, sometimes with one of their families just enjoying each other's companies and talking about their day. Also the occasional exploring. Who takes the covers? Eleteo: Covers? What covers? They go on body warmth alone. Lol. I don't think either would since it's more of a cocoon they wrapped themselves in but I'm going to go with Mateo. I feel like Elenais just more of a body person while Mateo can sleep with tons and tons of soft blankets and it reminds him of his wizard robes so it is extra comfy. Gabenaomi: Naomi, she gets easily cold at night and likes to bundle herself up with all the covers. Gabe tries to shrug off, that he is too macho to get cold but sometimes he tries to tearing them away from Naomi's iron grip when she's sleeping and that almost made her fall off. Estenaomi: Esteban!! The guy is a Duke, he is used to being a hundred percent comfortable. Forbid that he gets cold at night, it is the one thing he won't relent. He takes the covers he wants. Naomi usually wrangles it away but then she has to endure his complaints of how cold he is and equals it by lots of kisses. Gababel: Isabel take the covers. Moreover Gabe would gladly give it to her she use gets grabby when she's asleep so it doesn't matter if he gives it beforehand, she gets more and they end up hugging a lot. Most interesting date? Eleteo: This is hard since I bet Eleteo had a lot of interesting dates but I'm going to go with the one where it was after they were married and just had Julian. They decided to take a night off to themselves and relax with a simple dinner. But Julian wouldn't stop crying unless he was in his mother's arms so they decided to take him to the restaurant. But they couldn't just leave Ana and Bianaca alone so they came with. It was a bit harder to have any flirtations when there are two toddlers around. Not to mention how Bianca wanted to look at all the pretty decorations and Ana wanted to hold baby Julian. So the night wasn't what they expected but it just reminded them how lucky they were to be having such a family, and how adorable it was to see the other parent. Gabenaomi: It would have to be the time they almost lost the boat. They had went to the island from The Gecko's Tale but the rope snapped leading their boat out to the water. So they took a row boat and rowed to it until Gabe jumped out to garb the rope himself so Naomi followed and the two tried to figure how to pull it in since it was rather large. They managed to do it, and spent the rest of the date resting on the beach with a firm eye of the boat and talking about all the other things that could have happened like the return of Chiloya among others. Estoma: They decided to pretend to be strangers meeting at a bar and get to know each other all over again. At first it was awkward with some patrons staring, and doing their best not to reference any past event or figuring if they were meeting as themselves or their teen selves. A few drinks in, the two forgot all that and tried to be themselves. It spiraled on to dancing in clubs, Esteban re-enacting some of his youthful adventures and the Royal treasury, she taught him to ride bareback and the next morning they had to explain why a majority of food was found staining the guest bedrooms.

Who feeds the other? Eleteo: Both. Elena starts it at first in the beginning stages of the relationship since she is much more impulsive and Mateo is still very self conscious and aware of how it may appear to others. But then of course, he starts doing it too. Anything for his lady love. Gabenaomi: Gabe feeds Naomi after giving up trying to stop her from stealing pieces of food. Naomi secretly thinks it's cheesy but she loves it. Gababel: Gabe again. He loves Isabel. He would do anything and that means pulling all the stops and being a totally inner romantic just as Blanca encouraged. Estenaomi: At first, Naomi does it as joke usually mixing in purpose to make fun of Esteban’s pampered upbringing. Then attentive, changed man Esteban would do it similar to Gabe.

Who plays footsie? Eleteo: Elena!! Elena, Elena, Elena. She can't help herself. She loves to show any kind of affection to her boyfriend/husband and will mischevious do it under the table if need be. Estenaomi: Esteban, he is such a flirt and knowing him, he woudkd do it when he gets bored at meetings. Or sometimes he would do it just to get Naomi distracted. Gababel: Isabel. She's like her sister in being more public about her affection. Just because he has a reputation as captain of the guard doesn't me she particularly cares. Gabenaomi: Naomi to Gabe. Similar to Isabel, she doesn't care that Gabe has a reputation to live up to and just wants to be with her man. Also she's mischevious in that sense too. What kind of couple class would they do together? Eleteo: I feel like cooking (??) Totally unimaginative but there is a certain domesticity with cooking. It's a nice break from their crazy, magical work a day lives. Plus it gives plenty of opportunities for food fights, finger licking and food sharing. Gabenaomi: Mountain climbing. Can that be a couple class? I feel like it would be a good couple class for them. Working out, adventuring and sharing trust at the highest height possible. Estenaomi: A dance class of some sort. If it was a modern AU, probably hip hop. Delivering every move with grace, style and a hint of the heat between them. Gababel: Yoga. It combines the use of Gabe's muscular strength and always being there to lift up and catch Isabel while Isabel calculates the bets way to get into position without straining any muscles.

Estoma: Pool. They get extremely competitive trying to distract each other. Who slips innuendos? Eleteo: Elena. Because she can and she doesn't mince words when it comes to how much she loves her husband in every sense. Usually when she's bored or in a particularly flirty mood. Mateo does too but he'd rather do that in the privacy of his room. Gabenaomi: Naomi. She had heard quiet a few from days in sailor bars and often conveys them to Gabe especially after he comes from home after battle or on their dates. Gababel: Neither really. If it does happen it would be accidental or out of context. But I can't really see it happening. Estebaomi: Is this a question, Esteban. Only he would think his are incredible witty and charming and sexy. Not the result all the time but when it falls flat Naomi just laughs and shakes her head at his attempts.

#elena of avalor #eleteo #gabenaomi #estenaomi #estoma #gababel #my hcs #my headcanons

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nymphacae · 2 years

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I really hope this doesn’t come off as a weird question, but do you have any advice for socializing in online spaces? You seem to be really good at interacting with people. /gen

This isn’t a weird question at all! It's actually an honor that you consider me qualified to answer this question, bc a year ago I Definitely wouldn’t have considered myself someone who’s sociable! (still not, tbh, social media is terrifying in a different way than reality is, lol)

I’m coming at this as someone who gained a following through….recognition, i guess? I hopped on really late into the game, so by the time i was on social media, the community kinda already knew who i was. And I’m glad for that opportunity! It’s a unique situation, sure, but i understand the feeling of being bogged down by ‘oh god am i doing this right’ ajskajsk

So yea, being sociable online is HARD, but I’ll ATTEMPT to narrow down how I approach it:

Be respectful! The golden rule!! You don’t know what the other is going through, what they’re going to say, the duration of the conversation, who they even really are, etc. but that doesn’t mean you can’t be considerate. Do no harm, take no shit

Be open-minded – you’re gonna meet folks from all different walks of life, and there’s absolutely no shame in stepping back and just listening! You learn a lot this way and it keeps conversations innovative and new ! share your perspective and realize your story/worldview/opinions are not End All, Be All. it’s way more rewarding than it might sound, or maybe i’m selling it well, who knows!

Be sincere! Reach out to those in a genuine effort to be friendly, and try to remember some tidbits about the people you’re with! Personalized messages are a great way to let folks know you care about them, just think about how YOU’D wanna receive a message from somebody — we’re all just people behind a screen, shrug

And also, maybe I’m just old and grew up on scary Stranger Danger PSAs, but I think another thing that’s lost is: Know When To Step Away!!! It’s SO easy to get sucked into the wormhole of social media. One thing to remember is: if you’re online, you have an online persona, and if you have followers or FANS of that online persona, you can form parasocial relationships. IE: I have a responsibility to ensure I’m not subjecting anyone to anything they didn’t sign up for; as someone who tends to discuss darker, more mature topics I try and keep a fair distance away from my younger viewers and let them know WHY. I talk with/follow some teens, sure, but they’re not my immediate friend group, i’m probably not in their notifs very often; that’s just how I’M comfortable online

Establish boundaries!!! Be upfront! YOU curate your own space online – and in turn, Please remember you’re not responsible for the image people make of you in their head, don’t let blocking/unfollowing or anything like that destroy you, sometimes you just won’t Vibe with someone; you don’t Vibe with everyone either, yknow? you can only ever be yourself, and that’s a blessing or a curse, whatever way you wanna consider it

Again, these are just tools that help me, and I’m still learning! Just test out the waters; it’s that first step in making an account and getting to talking that’s the scariest, but once you find your Group a lot of things are gonna come naturally, i PROMISE you. And you’re already Taking a big step in reaching out to ask this! I’d get so nervous submitting questions on anon back in the day….honestly, we’re ALL just freaking out on the other side of the screen, if that’s any consolation, haha

#ask #hope any of this helps…..jeez and this was me trying to SIMPLIFY things…#what a thoughtful ask I hope you’re doing well

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shummashum · 2 months

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Hiro Tachibana Ch1 [12~16]

oh… curse come to think of it, I remember he said something like he hates being cursed the most in Klaus' route? so that was a foreshadowing

by the way, they immediately curse you like filing a complaint if you do anything in this WH sekai life must be hard

maybe the original text is 妖刀? anyway this is good! I like this sort of thing

if that's the price of dimension rip, maybe it worked out cheaply? it's not fair to gain the power to manipulate space without any sacrifice, you know

erm…… is it okay to do that

uh… is that so is that… so?

oh… those E guys' merciless invasion has begun rip for Hiro

Anyway, they parted ways while promising tomorrow, and Liz was the only one left next to sleeping Hiro.

what an early bird

oi just say "thank you" if you feel grateful

or maybe he's not grateful or maybe it was just annoying to him whoops

Anyway, she said she had something to say to him about becoming a Prefect.

he must be sick of it, he's repeating the same words again and again and again but we found out it's not that he really don't want it, he's just given up on it because of his current state, so well or it might be that he doesn't want to have any more vain hopes, so he's avoiding igniting the expectation within himself mhm

oh my, sudden contempt

what's wrong with these dialogue omg this series of conversations is so funny Zeus' image has already fallen below the inner core to everyone…

Anyway, he rejected her offer again, saying he was not qualified to become a Prefect.

woaaaah are you insane you mentioned it without any hesitation holy mama

then we'll find out later how he got the sword. I'm curious about it >:] but you know, I think it'd be nice if this was the result of his own choice like, he was fascinated by the sword's power, stretched out his hand soaking in desire, but faced the backfire obtaining cursed power not by your choice or falling into the abyss on your own; the latter adds more depth to the character

uh… I know it's more likely not though

nah you don't have to be sorry, everyone has personal issues they don't want to reveal just… wait and see. it'll all be revealed someday, whether it was your intention or not

hmm… even though it may be the best for Zeus, it may not be for Hiro I got it, this subtle dissonance gradually grows louder and distorts the whole harmony like… he'll probably be ve~ry mad later, saying like "why the hell are you jabbering like that shit" or "you know nothing" or that kind of stuff but he can't sincerely hate him, however every single one of his actions is so prickly and painful to him. so fucking angst I can expect it, right? no I'll expect it I'll expect it as I please and nobody can't stop me haha!!

hah that's the best compliment he can give oh boy

and so she succeeded in changing his mind a bit

-Ch1 End-

#shumma plays wh

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quitewar · 2 years

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June is mens mental health awareness month. That’s funny. It’s also Father’s Day. The most uncelebrated day of them all. And let’s just start with the facts. Make suicide is 10x more likely than female. And that’s not just a fluffed you number. Let’s look at something. A man asks for help, he weak, a pussy, push over, don’t qualify for a man card. Gets looked down. A man is over weight and trying everything to get healthy but medical reasons keep him down he’s beat down and picked on and made fun off. A man is too short, too tall, ain’t got no money. You pick that poison. A man don’t have a reason to talk to anyone bc he’s always been told to suck it up, brush it off. Walk it off. We can’t show emotion. We can be weak. Bc other depend on us. Father’s Day is a total joke. On Facebook you’ll see wives post about their hubby, their man, that baby daddy that is doing it. But on Monday. He’s that same trash as man she can’t stand or that same lazy ass that can’t pick up his socks. Or that dead beat that didn’t buy her child a $200 pair of shoes she didn’t need. A man is always told to keep going and don’t give up. We do t get credit. We get cursed with living another day to be beat down again. It’s rare to find a true Queen that wants to be there for her king when his crown has fallen. But when the queens has fallen. If the king don’t do his part right now any old court jester can take his place and become a new king. We are fucking replaceable. And the media and music and movies have made that clear as a bell. So Father’s Day is a joke and I’ll never ask for a single gift from anyone. Bc there ain’t a thing I want or need. Men don’t get credit for the days they got without food or lonely times. The days they txt and just want someone to talk back and they get left on read or get that Okay txt. Wanna hurt a man to the core, ghost him, leave him on read, make him an option. Tell him all things he begs for. And then just ditch him. Yea, we hurt too. Surprise surprise ladies. Image that!! Y’all wanna scream victim but can’t ever be held accountable for your own fuck ups. DO BETTER LADIES!! Bc that man has probably gone all day without a meal, all week without a single positive word or action. Blue collar ain’t a fade. It’s a way of life. If you have a blue collar man, we ain’t like the rest. We hide a lot more than you’ll ever find. Dig deeper. Show him you are different. Do be another notch on belt, or the same house wife. Don’t make him think it’s always his job to do the house chores. Work will always call and will always have to be answered. But if he says let’s go to dinner. And movie. Got fucking dressed up!! Make him speechless. Make him see you again. This is going to deaf ears and blind eyes. But this is what guys won’t say to a woman bc they will told they are gas lighting and or they are hatful and ungrateful. No. We want love as well!! If love is love then why does a man have to beg, plead, and buy love? But a woman can get just from a touch, a kiss, a smell, and smile?

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coffeeman777 · 2 years

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I know this question isn't new to anyone but why can't women teach men and lead congregations? I never got it, I've met plenty of very biblically knowledgeable, spiritually strong women and many men who are completely the opposite. I have similar thoughts on men being head of house (I'm aware of the full context of those verses like how husbands have to die for their wives but it doesn't solve the issue for me because women are still given less power for what seems to be no real reason and plenty of women have suffered for it). If one sex isn't any more qualified than the other why put each in specific roles? It doesn't seem to do much good, in fact it causes problems sometimes.

If I'm honest though it also just feels a bit insulting as a woman haha, maybe I'm sensitive but its hurtful how it's implied I'm only qualified to teach those who are deemed "weaker" or "on equal footing" to me (children and other women), and the idea that men are just naturally "above" me

I get it. I'd probably feel the same as you, if I were in your place.

First, we have to keep in mind that God has very good, moral, righteous reasons for everything He does, even if we can't see the reasons or understand God's mind on a matter. We can trust that God is always entirely right.

Now, Paul does address this in 1 Timothy 2. After teaching that wives shouldn't attempt to wield authority over their husbands (the passage reads "women" not "wives" in most English translations, but it really should be "wives." I've posted about this passage before and I'd be happy to do so again if you'd like me to elaborate), Paul says this:

"13 Why? Because God made Adam first, and afterwards He made Eve. 14 And it was not Adam who was fooled by Satan, but Eve, and sin was the result."

Paul connects his reasoning to the circumstances surrounding the Fall. We read about that back in Genesis 3. In v 16, God tells Eve that her punishment for her part in the Fall is this:

“I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing;

in pain you shall bring forth children.

Your desire shall be contrary to your husband,

but he shall rule over you.”

This is why God has chosen men to be the leaders in the Church and in the home. It's not the original design; its a result of the Fall, just like our sin natures. In eternity, when all sin is gone forever and the curse of the Fall is broken for good, it won't be this way anymore. For the time being, however, we must respect God's decree.

Men aren't better than women. We are equal in terms of value. Both are necessary. Both are made in God's image. Women aren't second class citizens. Women are vital to the Church. Women are Spiritually gifted, same as men; women can evangelize, prophesy, pray, and even preach and teach, I'm fully convinced. Women just shouldn't be pastors, or take positions of spiritual authority over men, in either the Church or the home.

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midnightsunnyday · 3 years

Text

Holiday dinner with the family (Black MC)

Summary: MC invites the brothers to meet their family for holiday dinner. As the day progresses, shenanigans ensue.

A/N: wrote this back during the holidays and is heavily influenced off my own familial experiences, yet exaggerated for fictional purposes. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: some curse language, mentions to sexual situations.

----------

1:00 PM

Lucifer: alright, we're here. For the record, I think this is a horrible idea.

Belphegor: you've already stated the record 30 times before getting here.

Lucifer: and just like the 90 times before getting here, let's go over the rules again, shall we?

*everyone groans*

Lucifer: say them.

Everyone except MC: no using our powers, no mentioning we're demons, no mentioning we attend RAD, no mentioning we're the literal envoys of the seven biblical sins, no mentioning our actual ages, no mentioning our real names, no mentioning the Devildom, no stealing, no maiming, no sodomy, no hypnotism, no blasphemy, no betting souls, and no eating MCs family.

Lucifer: good.

Asmodeus: I'm so excited! I can't wait to show your family how wonderful I am.

MC: just make sure that's the only thing you show them.

Asmodeus: I promise I'll be a good demon. Well, as good as a demon can be.

Satan: again, I get why we had to change our names, but do they have to be so ridiculous?

Beelzebub: I like my fake human name. It’s cool.

Satan: well, I don’t. Mine makes me sound like an old man.

Mammon: um, guys? Levi's having a panic attack.

Leviathan: *hyperventilates into a sandwich bag*

Beelzebub: Levi, I know you're nervous, but you're breathing on my sandwich.

Leviathan: I can't do this, OK? Just let me sit in the car.

MC: Levi, you'll be fine.

Leviathan: Levi will not be fine. I can see them from the window. Why does your family have so many people? No way they'll want to meet--

MC: --what did I tell you about the self-deprecation?

Leviathan: but I--

MC: --listen, remember that anime we watched together: I'm a Demon Who Fell in Love With a Human and Now I Have to Meet Their Family but Little Do They Know I Have Horrible Social Anxiety?

Satan: these titles...are oddly specific.

Leviathan: oh yeah. In the end the whole family went to Hell for the wedding and was super accepting.

MC: the point is they were nervous too, but they worked through it together just like we all are. And do you know why?

Leviathan: why?

MC: because I love you, Levi, to hell and back.

Leviathan: *blushes* Alright, I'll do it. If it's for you, I'll fight all the forces of Heaven themselves!

MC: it's dinner Levi, not Armageddon, but I love the confidence.

Lucifer: good then. Now, let's get this over with. Diavolo help us all.

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1:15 PM

MC: which one of you gave my parents a $2000 bottle of wine?

Mammon: $2000? I thought we agreed to give them gifts under $50?

Belphegor: that's right. Who’s the show off?

Lucifer: isn't it obvious? And please, they need to know that I'm the provider in this relationship.

Mammon: and what does that make the rest of us?

Lucifer: a pain in my ass.

----------

1:35 PM

MC: great. Now my mom won't stop bragging about "my baby's boyfriend."

Asmodeus: which one?

MC: very funny. And I'm talking about “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Bougie” himself. Though I don't recall mentioning you were my partner, Lucifer.

Lucifer: why mention the obvious, love?

Mammon: don't make me gag.

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2:25 PM

Satan: I don’t think your uncle cares for me much.

MC: why is that?

Satan: well, for one, he keeps referring to me as “white boy.”

MC: oh, no.

Satan: I know, right? Tell me, do I really look that pale? Granted the *whispers* Devildom doesn’t have much sun, but still. Do you think a tan would be beneficial?

MC: Satan?

Satan: yes?

MC: I love you.

----------

3:40 PM

Lucifer: one of the smaller humans asked me if they could "hold a 20."

MC: yes, I saw. In which you gave them twenty $100 bills.

Lucifer: yes, to hold. Is that not correct?

----------

3:53 PM

Mammon: MC why won't you let me near the spades table? I could be making a killing right now!

MC: because lives are at stake.

Mammon: wow that hurts, MC. Do you really think I'd hurt your family?

MC: no, I think my family would hurt you.

----------

4:13 PM

Leviathan: MC. MC. EMERGENCY. All your cousins kept asking if I had games on my phone, and I was like, "Duh, of course I do." Now they've taken my phone and won't give it back!

MC: *rises from their chair and walks off*

*the sound of screaming children is heard in the distance*

MC: there you go.

Leviathan: thanks, M…ew, why is it so sticky?

----------

5:05 PM

Asmodeus: now I know I said I’d be a “good demon,” but your aunt --

MC: --is married.

Asmodeus: oooh, so she’s a two for one deal, then?

MC: go sit in the car.

Asmodeus: but--

MC: IN THE CAR.

----------

5:48 PM

Satan: MC, I don't appreciate your family insulting my intelligence.

MC: what are you talking about?

Satan: every time a song comes on, they keep asking, "what I know about it?" It's infuriating.

MC: we really need to have a talk about colloquialisms.

----------

6:07 PM

Leviathan: I think Beel just killed MC’s dad.

Lucifer: WHAT?

MC: my dad isn’t dead, Levi, just winded.

Beelzebub: we were playing football.

Lucifer: out of all the games to play and you choose football?

Beelzebub: I said no, but they really wanted me on their team and well…I was having so much fun, that I forgot my own strength and threw the ball a bit too hard. I’m so sorry, MC.

MC: *pats his head* it’s OK Beel. Though it was hard explaining why you were capable of sending a man flying several feet through the air. On the plus side, no one wants to challenge you to anymore games.

Beelzebub: that’s...probably for the best.

----------

7:00 PM

MC: Belphie where did you go? I haven’t seen you for several hours. *sniffs his clothes* and why do you smell like that?

Belphegor: your house was way too noisy, so me and your cousins...went for a walk.

MC: for a walk, huh?

Belphegor: *shoves a handful of Doritos into his mouth* yep.

MC: …

Belphegor: …

MC: you’re high aren’t you?

Belphegor: I will neither confirm nor deny it.

----------

7:35 PM

Lucifer: are…are we praying?

MC: oh yeah, sorry. We always pray over the food before we eat. Don’t worry, it won’t take long

*three minutes pass*

Mammon: is it over yet?

Lucifer: *whispers* Beel, calm yourself.

Beelzebub: *shirt wet with drool* I’m trying!

*five minutes pass*

“And father god, we humbly ask that you protect everyone at this table from Satan and all his machinations, both physical and spiritual. May no evils prosper against them.”

Lucifer: yes, Lord.

Satan: *glares *

Lucifer: what? I was simply agreeing with said affirmation.

----------

7:42 PM

“In Jesus name we pray, Amen.”

Everyone: Amen.

Beelzebub: finally. We can eat.

Belphegor: an eight minute long prayer? Even Jesus would tune out.

Satan: they rebuked me so much during that I think I felt my skin burn a little.

MC: Beel, save some for everyone else, please.

----------

7:55 PM

“I see you have a lot of men around you these days, MC.”

MC: they’re my friends.

“Funny that you have all these friends, yet not one of them is your husband.”

MC: *sips drink* I’m sure you would know a lot about having no husbands, considering you’re going through your third divorce.

Mammon: *chokes on his food *

Asmodeus: I love this family.

----------

8:05 PM

“So what did you all say you do again?”

Lucifer: Student affairs

Mammon: Entrepreneur

Leviathan: Digital media

Satan: English Literature Professor

Asmodeus: Image consultant

Beelzebub: Personal trainer

Belphegor: Mortician

MC: …

Belphegor: *smiles*

----------

8:55 PM

Belphegor: wait, we’re praying again? But we’re leaving.

Lucifer: at this point we’re so blessed we could qualify for sainthood.

Mammon: hang in there, bro.

Satan: I think I feel a few blisters forming.

----------

11:35 PM

Lucifer: well, that could have gone worse.

MC: see? Everything worked out.

Lucifer: other than a few mishaps, this evening turned out to be quite pleasant.

Asmodeus: right? I had so much fun with your family, MC.

Beelzebub: I think soul food is my favorite kind of food.

Satan: do you think we made a good impression?

MC: I’ve gotten nothing but notifications since we left. Everyone wants to know when I plan to bring back… *sighs* “my rich boyfriend and his brothers.”

Mammon: I resent that first part.

Lucifer: the part where I’m rich or the part where I’m their boyfriend?

Mammon: BOTH.

MC: you guys know you’re all my family, right? So just know you’re in this for the long haul. No backing out.

Lucifer: *smiles* as if we ever planned to.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegore #obey me x black mc

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tittytania · 3 years

Text

Finding ChristBorg: A TED talk about what happened during the Coldharbour Compact.

Reposted from my tes reddit bc I want to see what y’all think.

I can't tell if I'm a genius, completely insane, or if I'm just late to the lore-party. Time to find out I guess. TL;DR at the bottom.

So it has never been explained what Sotha Sil did during the Coldharbour Compact to convince the daedric princes to not manifest on Nirn without an intermediary, and it probably never will be since the mystery of it all is far too cool. But that doesn't mean I can't read into it like literature and look for meaning in the other texts I can compare it to.

To start, Vivec is based off of the Shakta variation of the half female/half male Ardhanarishvara, where the gold-skinned female half is the right side. Both Vivec and Ardhanarishvara represent unity and duality, and looking at some images of Ardhanarishvara, it's kinda hard to argue that Vivec wasn't based off of them. Kirkbride even confirmed that Ardhanarishvara was the inspiration for Vivec in an AMA. Now, Vivec is part of the god trio the Almsivi Tribunal, along with Almalexia and Sotha Sil. Shiva, who Ardhanarishvara is the avatar of, is also part of a god trio, called the Trimurti in Hinduism. So it would make sense if the other members of the tribunal are also based off of one member of a real world religious triad. I have a shaky idea of who Almalexia could be, but my theory for her god-inspiration is nowhere near as solid as my theory for Sotha Sil, who I believe is based on Jesus Christ.

To start, their characterizations have multiple similarities. Both are one branch of a god-triad, with Sotha Sil as part of the Tribunal, and Jesus as The Son in the Holy Trinity. Both serve as a teacher, with Jesus being referred to as Teacher several times in the Bible, and Sotha Sil giving lessons on magic and Mysticism to the Psijic Monks. Also, both are characterized as wise, patient, and celibate. They both talk about moral and philosophical concepts with their followers, neither Jesus nor Sotha Sil are shown as having a temper or raising their voices, and neither of them are shown with a spouse or partner. Sotha Sil is specifically shown as not caring about the Night Mother's attempts to sexually manipulate him in book seven of 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Now I know that 2920 is considered a work of historical fiction in-universe, but I don't think that matters in this situation since I'm approaching this as a person reading a text, not as a person living inside the lore world.

In terms of specific scenes that connect Sotha Sil and Jesus, the first I will mention is that they both use a makeshift whip to beat intruding wrongdoers and drive them away, while yelling about fathers. In the Truth in Sequence vol. 8 book, it says that "[t]hrough His will alone, Mighty Seht wound the veins (of metal ore) into god-bronze whips, and lashed the Prince pitilessly," saying "[b]ehold the wrath of lost Ald Sotha! Know death at my hands, false-son of a false-father!" In the Bible, Jesus found people doing sales in a place of worship, and then He "made a whip of cords, (and) He drove them all out of the temple," saying “Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!” (John 2 15-16).

Also, Jesus had close friends and followers who were called his apostles, and Sotha Sil has his own Clockwork Apostles. Sil's apostles reside in the Clockwork Basilica, and while basilica isn't an exclusively Christian term, it is frequently used to describe a type of church architecture, and is a term the pope uses to recognize distinguished churches.

Another similarity that I found was in the plot of Morrowind, where Sotha Sil's death was caused at the hands of Almalexia, who was someone he had once loved and trusted, much like with Jesus and Judas.

The most notable life similarity as it relates to the Coldharbour Compact is that both leave the earthly world in order to make a deal for the benefit of the souls on earth, and then return to the earthly world. This parallel is given extra weight with the descriptions of the scene in the book 2920, The Last Year of the First Era. Sotha Sil returns from Coldharbour by way of someone "rolling aside the great boulder that blocked the entrance to the Dreaming Cavern. This sounds a lot like the scene in the bible of the discovery that Jesus had risen from the dead, where "an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door" (Matthew 28:2). In addition, Jesus said "after He is killed, He will rise [on] the third day," (Matthew 17:23) and after Sotha Sil returned from Coldharbour, he "felt he had been away for months, years, but only a few days had transpired." Perhaps it had been 3?

In addition to the life and behavior similarities, there are similarities in dress. In the 2920 book, Sotha Sil is always described as wearing a white robe or cloak. In ESO, Sotha Sil is shown as barefoot, and wearing a blue sash over his long white robe. In medieval and renaissance art, Jesus is most always depicted as barefoot, and is frequently shown with a blue cloth over his shoulder. In most resurrection art, as well as in almost all 20th/21st century art, Jesus is depicted as dressed in white. While Jesus usually isn't usually shown wearing both the blue sash and the white robe at once like Sotha Sil is, I found one modern interpretation of Jesus that does dress him this way, and several depictions of him in Chinese art that also portray him like this.

I'm feeling almost conspiratorial here, but these similarities are far too many for me to think it's accidental, and therefore I have to think that all of this is meant to suggest that Sotha Sil serves a Christ-figure role in his story, i.e. in sacrificing own life like Jesus did in order to make his deal in the Coldharbour Compact. However I don't think Sil's sacrifice was quite so simple. After he is asked what he offered the Daedra in return for the deal, he states: "The deals we make with Daedra... [s]hould not be discussed with the innocent." This implies that in contrast to the Christ mythos, Sil's sacrifice was not blameless; he did not come out of the deal with his hands clean.

So, a Christ-like sacrifice that isn't quite as pure and selfless as it is in Christianity. What could that be?

My theory is that in order to make the Coldharbour Compact, he sold the lives of Vivec and Almalexia along with his own. Perhaps he told the princes that he knew the tribunal's godhood would end, and in exchange for their cooperation he promised not to tell the other tribunes or make any attempt to prevent his and his companions' demise. (After all, as far as I know he made the mechanical heart for keeping his city functional, not for recreating the divinity the heart of Lorkhan provided.) Or, maybe he offered to do something to assist in bringing the Tribunal down, and losing Sunder and Keening, the tools that helped them maintain their divinity, was intentional on his part. Sil deliberately sacrificing his own life appears to be reflected in Azura's statement after his death. She said "he shed his mortality long ago, and I am certain his death was no small relief to him." Of course she'd know that he let go of his life ages ago if he had willingly sold it to her. Of course she would be certain that he found his death to be a relief, if she'd heard him say so himself when he was explaining why a god would ever offer such a deal.

It would also make sense with Sotha Sil's character, since he allegedly loved the people on Nirn more than Almalexia or Vivec did, and the destruction of Gilverdale could have definitely been a traumatic enough reminder of the destruction of Ald Sotha for him to do something dramatic to prevent it ever happening again. And guilt over sacrificing his friends could have definitely been a contributing factor to the worsening self-isolation and intense depression in his later life. It would also be a definite explanation for why he apparently never met another soul in the 10 years between losing the tools and his death. Not only had he become extremely disillusioned with the imperfections of the world, he had now finalized the deal he made so long ago, and saw no point in continuing to interact with a deeply flawed world he was essentially finished with.

However, I do see some issues with this and how it would work in-universe. Namely the fact that Hermaeus Mora's seekers said the prince received something from every individual on Nirn as part of the deal, which is quite different from what I'm suggesting. A different deal for each prince would also explain why Sil was able to include Clavicus Vile and Mephala in the compact at a much later date. There would be no reason for Vile and Mephala to submit to a collective deal whose terms had already been decided. So if he offered the tribunal's lives as part of the deal, he would have needed to offer other things as well. But for me the most significant in-universe issue I struggled with was that using his death as a bargaining tool would create a massive problem for his ability to enforce the deal in the future. This could explain why both Molag Bal and Mehrunes Dagon manifested on Nirn after Sotha Sil's death, but since I think they were summoned by qualified mortals that could have been a loophole. Either way, making a deal that is meant to last forever by promising something that can never be taken back in the case of a breach of contract seems extremely short-sighted for someone who claims to be cursed with certainty. Especially considering how many of the princes there were known to be cheats and liars.

Unless, that is, you believe this theory I read about the reason why Sil was completely silent as he was killed. My original belief was that he was silent because he'd seen it coming long ago, and knew that nothing he could have said would have changed Almalexia's mind. And while that would be in character for him, now I'm starting to think that it was because he had already uploaded his consciousness elsewhere. This would fit in with the Christ-figure parallels, due to the Christian belief that Jesus is risen from the dead and very much alive. While Jesus returned to life at the same time he emerged from the cave, the completion of Sotha Sil's death sacrifice didn't happen until long after his return via the cave. While I have found no explicit evidence that he's still around, when you find his body in Morrowind he is shown hanging, with his arms outstretched at his sides, in a sort of crucifixion pose. And after the crucifixion comes the resurrection. Perhaps Sotha Sil is still around somewhere in the gears of his city, and he promised the princes he'd never be present or have any influence on Nirn so long as they kept up their end of the deal. Additionally, the 37th sermon of Vivec mentions Sotha Sil as holding "his swollen belly," carrying "[his] daughter." While Vivec's sermons are hardly ever literal, Kirkbride's comments suggest that maybe Vivec was being somewhat literal in this instance. Regarding this concept art, Kirkbride said "note the cosmic baby growing inside Sotha Sil. While Sotha Sil is dead as we saw in the add-on pack “Tribunal”, the child survived." Perhaps one of Sotha Sil's many body modifications made him able to carry and birth a child, and then he created a daughter through self-cloning or some other method that allows him to have enough influence to enforce the compact.

TL;DR - Sotha Sil has a lot of similarities with Jesus, so he's a Christ figure and therefore his sacrifice in the Coldharbour Compact was himself, and Almalexia and Vivec too, and that also means that he may still be around.

Anyways, thanks for reading and sorry if this sounds like I'm putting red strings on a wall as my application essay to the r/SothaSimps fan club. Also, lmk if I'm missing anything obvious. For me right now Reading Lore On The Bedroom Floor is a bit more manageable than playing the games, and there may be something I've just completely looked over.

#sotha sil #tes #the elder scrolls #tesblr #vivec #almalexia #morrowind #elder scrolls online #eso #lord seht

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imaginethathaikyuu · 3 years

Text

tis the damn season

atsumu miya x fem reader

the first fic in a series i like to call “Me Writing Whatever The Hell I Want” (a working title) hope u like it or dont idk im not ur boss!!!!!!!!!!

synopsis: Running away was easy when you were chasing hazy dreams of a big city that was destined to be yours, when your rear-view mirror showed nothing but your hole in the wall hometown. But now it’s all waiting tables and failing auditions. You were still running, but somehow, these winding roads always lead you back to Miya Atsumu - a man you’ve loved and left, until you return home for the holidays.

tags: friends to lovers, exes to lovers, angst without a happy ending, established pre-relationship, friends with benefits, reader lives in Undisclosed Big City lmao who has celebrity dreams, atsumu is ur good ole southern boy (sort of), canon divergent, not edited, light nsfw, beginnings of sex but isn’t very detailed

word count: 4220

song inspo (tis the damn season by taylor swift)

i won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay…

. . .

The soundtrack of this early morning replayed in your head as you made a hazy drive to the neighborhood’s hardware store, cutting left onto the correct street and forcing the car’s back tire over the curb you couldn’t miss.

The replay of events looping in your mind? A whirring, then a splashing, then your father’s booming voice shouting curse words at anyone who could hear them. Your name was laced in there somewhere with demands for you to get to the kitchen, and you couldn’t tumble down the stairs fast enough to see what in the hell was going on.

It was your first day home for the holidays, and already it was a catastrophe.

Somehow your dad had busted a pipe underneath the kitchen sink and a strong stream of water was spraying halfway across the room because of it - your feet landed in a shallow pool when you finally reached the first floor. You didn’t have time to think of any questions before the man at fault, who was on his knees with his head hidden under the sink relentlessly trying to turn the water off, sent you out the door with more shouts, telling you to go to Miya’s Hardware and buy… something.

“A connector?” You were talking to yourself, thinking out loud as you finally parked, but it didn’t help you remember. All you could do was walk inside the store and hope someone knew what you needed.

It’d been years since you had been in this shop, but it looked just the same as when you were following your dad through its isles. You didn’t even bother browsing now, though - you went straight to the back of the store to the counter, expecting to see a familiar, perhaps older, face eager to help you.

That isn’t what you found.

“Well, hey stranger.”

That voice rang in your ears like you’d just heard it through a megaphone pointed directly at you. Something about it was so warm, but it left you with a shiver down your spine and goosebump ridden skin. You could feel the hair on the back of your neck standing up, and you hadn’t even turned in the direction the words came from.

But you didn’t have to look in order to know just who it was. “Atsumu.”

“What in the hell are you doing back in town?” His voice rang with excited confusion; it carried the same inflection as anyone who’s happy to see you. Like nearly forgotten family members at a reunion before it all goes to hell, or the way the tone of your father’s voice changes when you tell him you’re doing well and mean it. People don’t speak that way often.

He pulled you in for a hug and you gladly reciprocated, already forgetting that you were supposed to be in a hurry.

“Home for the holidays. How have you been?”

“I’ve been alright,” he replied. “I’ve missed you.”

His voice felt more like home than your four bedroom walls did, the charming drawl and depth in his words immediately reeling you in. It was familiar. You had spent a long time trying to forget about that familiarity; too long learning how to straighten out your words and lose any hint of the small town you came from. But Atsumu - he sounded like the epitome of this place.

He didn’t give you time to reply, for one reason or another; instead he decided to push you back by your shoulders and get a good look at you. Up and down and up again, likely noticing every change you had made to your appearance in your time away.

“Are you still wearing your pajamas, or is this a new… trend?”

You looked down at yourself, “Shit,” and closed your jacket tight over the old graphic t-shirt you wore, but nothing could cover your pink polka-dotted pants. And you’d have been hit in the face with embarrassment if the image of your dad and the broken sink and a flooded kitchen didn’t smack you first. “Shit, no, um… I need something to fix a broken sink. Are you… do you work here now?”

“I do - and you’re gonna need to be more specific.”

“I don’t know, Atsumu,” you laughed, slowly realizing the bizarreness of what you were about to tell him. “I woke up to my dad shouting and water shooting out from under the sink, literally flooding the kitchen. He told me to get a part for the pipe… a connector, or a couple, or something - I don’t know.”

“...A coupler?”

“Yes!”

“...He didn’t happen to tell you what size to get, did he?”

The look on your face must have been a good enough answer for him, because he took off into a random aisle and left you wondering just how many sizes of couplers there could be.

“This one will probably do the job,” he said as his path rounded the counter. “If it doesn’t, then, I can ignore the return policy for you. Just this once, though.”

“Thanks, ‘Tsumu.” You made your payment and he slid your product over the counter as his elbows landed on it, leaning down to make himself comfortable. Like he thought he’d be there awhile.

“How long are you gonna be in town?”

“Two weeks. Why do you ask?” You knew why - you just wanted to hear him say it.

“We should catch up.”

He was grinning and shrugging and fidgeting with his fingers, just like he always did, and you would never turn down any offer he made you.

“We should. I’ve got to get home, but are you free tonight?”

“We close at six,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you said, meaning every word. You wondered if he knew that.

“So will I,” he replied, and then you made your way out before you convinced yourself to stay.

It’d been three years since you last spoke to Atsumu. In that time, you had done a lot that felt like nothing, living in a different city that felt worlds bigger than this town - that city was a place you had once convinced yourself was all yours. You had pulled off running away effortlessly.

But it didn’t matter how much time goes by between your meetings with Atsumu. There was something there that you could never shake, the hold you had on each other was anchor tight. Ten years could pass and you would speak to each other like it had only been one day. You’d have world ending fights and one of you would always come crawling back, letting the other win as long as it meant things would go back to normal.

You couldn’t describe it. You never tried, you didn’t need to. The unspoken acts between the two of you didn’t need to be explained. It was something akin to a best friend with all the benefits included and most of the strings attached - confusing and nerve wracking but still so comforting.

Atsumu was the closest thing to home you had in this town, and somehow every road always leads back to him. With a few detours on your part, of course, because you just couldn’t stay away too long. Even moving across the country didn’t change that - not like you thought it would.

You just barely missed the turn into your driveway, being so distracted by your thoughts. So much was rushing back, so much that shouldn’t be - it isn’t a big deal, it’s just Atsumu, but it felt grand, like this was some massive reunion.

But it wasn’t. You were only here to celebrate Christmas with your family. You weren’t even planning on seeing Atsumu, let alone meeting up with him or rekindling any kind of flame that was once there.

And it was such a rush that you couldn’t even question why he was working at his father’s store - or why he was even in this town at all. What happened to the dreams he was chasing?

For what felt like the first time in your life, you had questions for him. But you’d have to wait all day to ask them.

. . .

You were thankful to come home to a dry floor and a calmer father - he finally figured out how to turn the water off and decided to fix the pipe later. You knew he’d inevitably be paying someone more qualified to repair it, but your mind had no space for that problem.

You were still trying to figure out how you’d meander the night with Atsumu by the time he was picking you up, and when the two of you arrived at his home you still hadn’t found your answer.

Easing into this would be best, and once alcohol was introduced to the equation it would turn into a slippery slope.

Nothing was hard with Atsumu. You knew that - that’s why you couldn’t figure out why you were having such a hard time talking to him.

A lot had changed. Not between the two of you, not exactly. You were right back where you were three years ago: on his couch, sitting too close to him, laughing at something he had said that was only funny because he said it.

But your lives had changed. Your worlds had changed. His mind had very obviously changed, and because of it all, you couldn’t keep pretending that the two of you were teenagers again.

You had to bite the bullet and ask the question that was on your mind, completely knowing that he could throw a hard hitting question back at you.

It came out more effortlessly and lighthearted than you expected. “So… what happened to playing volleyball?”

Atsumu scoffed. “You still remember that pipe dream? Nothing happened, it was just childish.”

You didn’t like his answer, so you pressed him. You worked up the courage to start this conversation, so you were going to get to the bottom of things. “You said you wanted to catch up - I know you, Atsumu. You get what you want and you wanted to play volleyball. You were going to be a pro, you were good.”

“I know you know me,” he said, and the smirk on his lips didn’t go unnoticed by you. “I wanted to get drunk and chat, not start up a fucking therapy session.”

You sat patient and waiting, eyes on him, refusing to go without the answer to your question. You were teasing, really, eyeing him up and grinning as you watched him struggle. The problem was: you didn’t expect the answer you’d get.

“I - I had the chance.” There was a scratch in his throat that wasn’t caused by the whiskey he’d just swallowed. “I was being scouted and playing my ass off and there were talks of being on an Olympic team one day, but… shit happens, and that’s it.”

“What shit, Atsumu? You didn’t just give up, did you? Were you scared or something?”

You didn’t realize how close you were to him until his hand came down to rest on your knee, and both of you focused on that touch as his next thoughts became words. “Dad got sick. And ‘Samu had just opened the restaurant, and… there were bills to pay and the store to run. Even though I wasn’t his preference, Dad had no choice and left the legacy of Miya’s Hardware to me, so - that’s where I am.”

“Oh. I… I had no idea - I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. You were already long gone by then - don’t say sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, and you hugged him without thinking, but he hugged you back all the same. “I’m sorry, ‘Tsumu.”

“It’s okay,” he told you, but you didn’t feel okay. You were sure he didn’t, either. “It’s not your fault.”

You pulled away from him just enough to look at his face, and you hadn’t noticed the distance in his eyes until just then. As you looked at him, you realized it was only familiar to now. It wasn’t there years ago, when you got to look into those eyes every day.

“I should’ve been there for you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, but his words were dangling on an edge. He didn’t quite mean them. “You were off in your own dream. I got through it.”

You only nodded. You weren’t sure what else to say after that.

As Atsumu sat back against the couch, he brought you with him, tucking you under his arm against his chest. His lips on your forehead made you close your eyes and for a second, it was like you were both nineteen again. You could’ve been, if time would only slow down or freeze or go back - what wouldn’t you give for that?

“I’m done talking about me,” he mumbled. “I wanna hear about your life now.”

You laughed, but quiet, “My life’s been fine.”

“Only fine?”

“You don’t see me on the big screen, do you?”

He laughed this time. “Not yet. One day, though. Have you gotten used to the city yet?”

“Oh… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, but… it does feel like home now. It’s so different from living here.”

“I bet.”

“I try not to romanticize it, but - I don’t know. It feels good, even if it’s not what I thought it’d be. The lights are pretty bright. Blinding compared to here.”

His response was a nod, and that was it. If he had any questions or comments, he held them back.

A break in the silence came soon, though. “You know,” he said, quiet, with a small laugh that was humorless, “I’m not as good at getting what I want as you think I am.”

“That’s not true,” you replied, and you were setting up an argument you weren’t ready to make. “You got me.”

“Did I?”

“What do you mean?”

Silence lingered, and after too long you sat up and looked at him, and that got him to talk.

“Nothing,” he insisted. He pulled you closer with two fingers holding your chin, and you didn’t resist. “Nothing, baby. Let’s just… just be quiet for a while.”

There wasn’t time for you to say anything else. His lips were on yours the moment he got his last word out. And even though you expected him to kiss you, it still made you gasp.

You couldn’t describe how much you missed kissing someone you wanted to, and Astumu’s kiss was like finding home. His lips were like candy, sweeter than sugar; his bite was a freezing shock that always pulled a giggle and a whisper of his name out of you. He knew how to kiss you, slow and deep with a hand on your jaw to keep you there, never leaving you wanting more because he gave everything you could ever need.

It didn’t take long for his kisses to trail down your neck, or for his shirt to come off, or for your back to land on the couch. You had already reached euphoria just seeing him hovering over you, eyes soft and hair askew; you didn’t need anything but this. You’d never want anything but this.

You did what you always did - trailed your hand down his torso, over his golden skin, stopping just after every freckle or scar or mark. This time, you were looking for something new. You didn’t find anything. You didn’t stop until your hand landed on his waist, and there, you squeezed -

“Stop, you little shit,” and he laughed, right along with you. A real and genuine laugh - you hadn’t heard that song in a long time. “Why do you always do that?”

Finally he moved down to press his chest against yours, his hips locking in place between your legs. A perfect combination.

“Why do you always give me the chance?” You were still laughing, not able to get over the cute sight. Atsumu was always so ticklish there, right on his waist, and when you made that discovery you swore you’d never forget it. And he sure as hell wished you would have. “You’re so cute. I’ve missed that smile.”

“I’ve missed you,” he replied. Somehow you just knew that he meant it.

“Don’t. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” he repeated. Like he was reassuring himself.

You took the initiative to unbutton your shirt yourself, so that there was no way for him to think that you wanted this to stop there. It couldn’t, not when you had him this close. And his eyes followed the popping buttons like stalking prey.

“And you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Fucking hell.”

You cringed - you couldn’t help the feeling in your gut when he gave you those sweet words. You knew he meant them in some way; you knew Atsumu wouldn’t lie to you. He’s never told you anything just for the sake of it. But how many times, in the last three years, had someone done just that? Told you just what you wanted to hear so they could get inside you? It was vile the first time. The second, it made you ache. But now, you’re used to it. Nobody means what they say. You’re used to it.

And Atsumu could snatch up any girl he wanted. A girl who’s used to blinding lights and expensive wine and lying - or a girl who would stay with him, who wouldn’t push his buttons, who would be effortless in her charm and wit and beauty.

You couldn’t put yourself in either category.

“You haven’t seen many, then.”

“Why would I even need to when I’ve got you? You’re a fucking dream. All I ever think about.”

You shook your head, not even noticing you were doing it. Atsumu wouldn’t have it.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Not when you know what you do to me. You’ve got my heart beating out of my chest, for fuck’s sake - it has been since you walked into the store.”

You never knew him to be so open with his feelings, or maybe you had just gotten used to being lied to. You weren’t sure and you didn’t care - all you could think about was kissing him, so you pulled him in, and you were sure he would devour you. You’d have no problem with that.

It was desperate when you said, “I need you.”

And reassuring when he replied, “I’m right here.”

He wasn’t close enough. You didn’t think he ever could be. And it was right then, when you were swimming in desperation, that you realized you shouldn’t have been doing this. It would only make leaving even harder. Doing it the first time was hell, letting him watch you leave and be okay with it. You hated yourself for wishing he wasn’t. And you were drowning.

You hated yourself for leaving.

You hated yourself more for coming back.

And you didn’t want to be there, all of a sudden, despite the ache in between your thighs and the addicting warmth he had you trapped in. You didn’t want to be there and you didn’t want to leave, either - you only wanted something easy, but you’d never have it. Not here, and not in the city, and not with Atsumu.

You felt him freeze, felt things shift. You hadn’t even noticed the way your energy had completely dropped.

“Something wrong?” He moved up to hold your face. He noticed the tears in your eyes before you did.

It was hard to look at him but you held his gaze, and his touch hurt more than it healed but you yearned for it. The concern on his face was genuine, the gentle strokes of his thumb on your cheek weren’t forced, and it all was making your stomach turn.

He cared for you - obviously he did - but not enough to ask you to stay. Not enough to find trouble in letting you leave him. So maybe you shouldn’t have a problem with it, either.

“No,” you said through a sore throat and a locked jaw. “Sorry, just…”

“We don’t have to do this,” he told you. “We can just talk - I want to talk. If it’s too much -”

“It’s okay,” you said. You tried to mean it as much as, “I miss you, Atsumu. I want you - touch me, I miss you.”

“I know,” and he was wiping the tears off of your cheeks as he kissed your lips, “I’ll take care of you, baby, just let me. Stop thinking so much. Let me take care of you like I always do, yeah? You want me to help you feel good?”

You always had a problem with that - thinking too much. He never hesitated to call you out on it. You nodded your head, strong and fast, like you were trying to knock the thoughts right out of it.

“Please, ‘Tsumu.” You were crying for him, pulling him closer. “Need you. Make it better, please.”

“I’d do anything,” he said. “You gotta quit crying, baby. You’re acting like our first time again.”

You laughed at that, wiping your own tears and knocking his hands away. “God, that was so embarrassing.”

“It was cute.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It was kinda hot, too.”

“Atsumu!”

It was his deep grin that made you relax again, and so did another blissful kiss that took your breath in a way that you enjoyed.

“You can cry, baby,” he said, popping buttons on both of your pants, “as long as it’s because of how good I’m making you feel. That’s what you need, pretty girl. Let me show you how much I’ve been missing you - get these pants off, baby, let me see you.”

He didn’t give you the chance to cry any more, at least not in an emotional sense. Your mind was stripped with your body, filled with nothing but him, no space between the two of you left for insecurities or questions.

It wasn’t until he coaxed you into his bedroom that those things had the chance to creep back.

Atsumu was out cold, cuddled into your chest and holding on tight to your waist, after smothering you in soft kisses and sweet sleepy words. You were comfortable there, warm and safe and content, but the pit in your stomach only grew. You watched him sleep, his mouth slightly open and eyes softly closed, and you wanted to reach down and kiss him but you resisted.

It was late and you should be asleep but you couldn’t rest. You couldn’t stop loathing yourself long enough to close your eyes, and the more you thought, the harder it got to breathe. Your throat was sore again. Your eyes were watering again. And every word you wanted to say to Atsumu was tumbling out of your mouth and falling onto sleeping ears.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay?”

He didn’t stir. It was still rumbling breaths and the whir of the air conditioner filling the silence.

“Everyone else did. But you. Why… You of all people should know I’m just as worthless there as I am here - I’ll never make it - I’ve changed everything and still…”

You sucked a hard breath into your lungs to stop a wracking sob, just barely holding it in.

“I just ended up here again. With you. I’m so alone without you but I can’t - fuck.”

It didn’t even matter what you were trying to say anymore, because you had no clue. You didn’t know why you couldn’t just stay with him regardless of his choice to let you go, but something in you made you run. Maybe it was worthless pride or a childish desire to be something more - you didn’t know.

You didn’t belong in any industry you dreamed of working in. You weren’t born to be a star. You should know by now - should accept your failure and come back home for more than just one night.

But you couldn’t.

There was still a chance, wasn’t there?

A chance to belong somewhere.

A chance to be led home.

A chance to make it. Would you die trying?

You would leave in the morning. And you wouldn’t ask Atsumu to wait for you as he started getting ready for the day. And Atsumu wouldn’t ask you to ditch your own plotted destiny just to stay with him.

But this would happen again. Every time you would swear it off and every time, you would travel roads that take you right back to this town, this bed, these arms.

Running away would never get easier, but this is all it would ever be with him. He would never stop you leaving - and you would never ask him to.

. . .

...so i’ll go back to LA

#i researched how to fix pipes for this #by research i mean i went to hope depot dot com and looked at Pipes #my friend actually busted his sink pipe the other day exactly like i wrote and our other friend (who works at lowes) said he needs a Coupler #in conclusion i dont know how sinks or pipes work. do not perceive me or my writing.#miya atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #i forget what other tags i need to use lmao

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fa-headhoncho · 4 years

Text

Unlike The Rest: Part 2

George Weasley x Reader (eventually)

Prompt: The school year has finally begun and things already seem to be going wrong.

Word Count: 2555

Reader: Female

Warning: Let me know what I could work on and what you would like to see in this series. I expect this to be a longer one and I have a lot of ideas for the future but I’m stuck on some filler chapters. So, please let me know.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

======

The carriage ride up to the castle was very uncomfortable, to say the least. Cedric tried to get you to talk but once his friends started talking, they made you feel out of place. His friends talked about all the wild adventures they had this summer and reminisced about years past together. All stuff that didn’t include or relate to you.

The only time Cedric’s friends seemed to have an interest in you when they spoke about Quidditch merely because you were a chaser on the team. And when you did talk, they just ignored you or rolled their eyes. You just wished you could do first year all over again and reintroduce yourself to everyone.

Nonetheless, you did appreciate Cedric for trying to help you make new friends but you’d rather keep to yourself. Making friends is hard when all people see is your last name.

Walking into the Great Hall with the group, you gaze up at the tall ceiling. It’s bewitched to emulate the sky outside. Every year you are welcomed by it. You believe it helps with the new year jitters and the claustrophobia of hundreds of children in one room.

You start to trail behind Cedric and his friends, taking it all in. This is your home. The floating candles, the professors sitting at the front of the room, the natural warmth of the castle just screams belonging. A large smile appears on your face once again, something that only this place can bring.

This year you are determined to focus on your studies… specifically Care of Magical Creatures. You’ve been reading all summer to get ahead in that class. Being a Malfoy, people don’t see your family as the caring or gentle type. They’ve proven that. Which, unfortunately, Care of Magical Creatures is all about. But, unlike the rest of the Malfoys, Hagrid has said you have a special talent when it comes to caring for creatures. You are gentle and caring. Hence the reason why you were put into Hufflepuff. So, you want to prove to everyone else, and your family, that a Malfoy can have a heart.

“Daydreaming yet again, Yeti?” Cedric’s chuckle interrupts your thoughts. He noticed you straying away from the group and saw you just standing there, staring up at the sky. This didn’t surprise him, you’ve always seemed to be in your own world or gathered up in thoughts.

You shake your head fondly at the nickname. It originated one day when he was trying to cheer you up after he found you crying in the hallway. You had failed your team at the last Quidditch match, falling off your broom and knocking Cedric off along the way. Ultimately costing the winning catch that secured the team a tremendous lead in the rankings.

The team collectively decided that they didn’t need you anymore so they never told when practices were. The backlash from your house was horrid too. People who taunted you in the hallways or blamed the fact that “Malfoy needed to have all the attention”. Hufflepuff has always been known as the kinder house but oh were they brutal.

It all led up to your break down in Charms when someone told you that maybe jinxing yourself to the broom might be helpful. Cedric, as big-hearted as he is, followed you out and comforted you. At first, you thought it was a sick joke, going off on him. In return he just called you a Yeti, comparing the fact that no one could ever get close enough to see the real way you live. Plus the fact that you were madly aggressive on the pitch. You knew that you made a friend after that.

“I was just thinking.” You confess, falling into step beside him as you make your way to the Hufflepuff table.

“That’s never good.”

“Oh, shut it, Diggory.” You laugh, giving his arm a slight slap. “I’m just excited about this year… Hagrid told me about all the new creatures Professor Kettleburn has in store for us.”

“Well, that is good then.” He corrects himself, taking a seat next to one of the beaters on the team. “I’m glad you’re excited about something. I know you talked about how nervous you were about Draco coming this year in your letters.”

You sigh, in the few letters you and Cedric shared during the summer, you’d confide in him about what’s been going at home; The newfound hope in Draco to carry on the Malfoy name with pride and loyalty. How they'd just left you in your room all summer to survive on your own while they made sure Draco had everything he needed to do so. It made you feel like shit. At first, when summer began, you thought things were getting better at home when you were welcomed with kind arms. Unfortunately, it was cut short when the realization of Draco’s first year was in a few months.

“Hey,” Cedric, once again, cuts your thoughts off. By this point he knows when you’re spiraling in your own head. “maybe it won’t be so bad after all.”

Right on cue, the first years all file in. Either looking lost or excited, it brings back memories of your first year. Remembering being so terrified of all the older kids staring as you walked past them. Wondering how Draco would fall in, you try looking for him. He wasn’t hard to find since in the front of the crowd, a devious smirk on his face as always. He knows what house he’s going to be in and he’s probably been boasting about it all the way here. It’s been drilled into his brain that he belongs in Slytherin, the house of the most powerful and legendary wizards. Which, according to your parents, Hufflepuff doesn’t have the means to accomplish.

Draco then takes a glance at said table. Seeing you looking out of place as ever and he rolls his eyes at it. Turning back to his friends and whispering something to them while pointing. They erupt into laughter and you frown slightly.

“Well, I don’t think your brother could be as bad as you were.” Malcolm Preece, another chaser on the team, decides to open his big mouth. He’s a fifth-year and he always has something to say. You grab the nearest thing and throw it at him, he dodges it. “Aye, I said were.” He defends himself and then casually goes back to his own conversation.

You bite your tongue and shoot daggers into the side of his head.

“Oh, I’ve missed you, (Y/N).” Cedric wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives you a small hug.

=====

“...this has to be a joke, Ced.” You whisper to him while Professor Quirrell goes on about the spell you’ll be learning this week. “How will this be useful in the eye of a duel?” You rhetorically ask him. “There’s no way this git is qualified to work here.”

“Oh, don’t be so harsh, (Y/N).” Cedric scolds as Quirrell commands the students to review their notes, “I’m sure he’s more than proven himself to Dumbledore to be here.”

“It’s a bloody tickling curse!” You stress, utterly dumbfounded on why you would be learning this. “In the midst of a battle, I don’t think my murderer would think of making me laugh to death.”

He just shakes his head at you, a small laugh escaping his lips at the image of it.

“It would be a good way to go.” Fred Weasley, the brute of all jokes himself, cuts in. Obviously, you weren’t whispering quiet enough. “Wouldn’t it be, Georgie?” He turns to his twin sitting beside him.

“I think so, Freddie.” He immediately agrees, you roll your eyes at the two. You know where this is going.

“Here we go,” You mumble.

“Imagine it,” George puts his hands in front of himself, widely gesturing with his quill. “Going toe to toe in battle, shouting wild curses at each other, wands waving, spells casting, and then, out of nowhere—” He suddenly stops, pointing his quill at you.

“Rictusempra!” The other one continues, “And, boom! You’re on the ground within seconds, laughing like a complete mad man. Utterly painless.” Some of your classmates laugh at them, you shake your head at the show. “A bliss way to die.” They both stare dreamingly into nothing, a small smile on both of their faces.

“You both are morons.” You deadpan, George just smirks while Fred has an exasperated look on his face.

“Morons?” He gasps, “Then, how would you like to die then, Malfoy?” He probes, his eyebrow hitched up. “A slow, painful death at the hands of a Dementor?” A few laugh.

“Preferably, yes.”

=====

You try to keep up with the fast steps of the Deputy Headmistress. Almost tripping over your robe as she speeds down the corridors, her own robes whizzing behind her. The fact that McGonagall is even accompanying you in a class switch makes your mind boggle since your head of house is Sprout.

“But, Professor, I don’t want to change subjects.” You beg, “It must be a mistake, I chose to take Muggle Studies this year, what happened?”

“Your father, Miss Malfoy.” She suddenly stops, you almost bump into her. “He demands you transfer into a different subject that doesn’t ‘deteriorate the brain’.” She quotes, “And I have to deal with it because Professor Sprout refuses to read his letters after the terrible scriptures he sent her over the last two years. I’ve got enough on my plate with my own students to be worried about hers.”

Your mouth drops, of course, he would’ve. You knew your father was mad about your house placement but you never thought he would go as far as to berated your head of house. At Hogwarts, your house is supposed to be your family no matter what and your father disrespecting your head was utterly disgusting.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, Miss Malfoy.” She continues to speak, obviously furious. “You knew this would happen when you signed up for the elective last year.”

You knew this would happen when you involuntarily signed up to be a Malfoy.

You frown, knowing she’s right about the whole thing. You thought your parents were too focused on Draco to even think about you and your classes this year. Hell, they’ve been too focused on him to even acknowledge your existence during the summer so why did they care about your classes.

“I truly do apologize, Professor McGonagall.” You look down at your shoes, too nervous to look her in her eyes. “I didn’t realize my father was doing that… nor would he interfere with my schooling. I just…” You let out a long sigh. “I just thought the class would be interesting and a bit different, is all, compared to what I’ve learned about muggles at home.”

The woman’s face immediately softens. She knew that getting sorted into Hufflepuff was going to be an issue from the moment the hat shouted it. You were clearly unhappy and confused, mumbling curse words at the hat as you made your way to the Hufflepuff table. The Malfoys have been Slytherins since she was in her own school days so when she heard the hat say something otherwise, she knew something would come out of it.

Your father had insisted it was a mistake in every letter he sent to Dumbledore talking about how the hat was a fake and it must've been a ploy against the Malfoy name. But Dumbledore was just as persistent with backing the hat and it’s house assigning criteria.

“It is out of my control, Miss Malfoy.” McGonagall puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “As an underage wizard, you do not have a say in the matter. We must listen to your guardians.”

“I understand, Professor.”

=====

The scent of musty floral perfume hits you like bricks as you walk into the room. Following McGonagall between the risers, you hold your books tighter to your chest. You look around once you get into the “stage” area of the classroom. The curtains are drawn, giving the room a somber vibe. The different levels hold a bit too many tables for the number of students actually attending the class. Taking a glance at the students, some are either sleeping or staring at you, glad for the interruption.

“Professor Trelawney,” McGonagall interrupts the short woman gazing into a crystal ball. Her large eyes immediately snap to the two of you. “I have a transfer from Muggle Studies.”

The eccentric witch gets up and looks over to you, the whole classes’ eyes follow her. “Ahhh,” She sighs, pointing a finger. “I knew you would end up here, (Y/N) Malfoy.” She gives a knowing smile, Professor McGonagall just rolls her eyes while she continues to go on about what she saw in the ball about a visitor here to stay.

“Well, I have other things to attend to regarding my Quidditch team if you would kindly show Miss Malfoy to her seat,” McGonagall commands with a firm nod.

“Of course, of course!” She excitedly affirms, putting a hand to your back and guiding you towards the front of the strange classroom. You give the Charms Professor pleading eyes as she leaves the room but she just ignores you and continues on her way.

“Now,” She turns you both to the whole class. “Who would like to do the honor of having Miss Malfoy as a partner? I sense she will be a great help in this class,” She asks, everyone sits in silence. There are a few students without partners but they’d rather be alone than be with you.

“Well, a little unpopular we are, I see,” Trelawney mumbles to no one in particular, you immediately look down at your feet. “How ‘bout you find your own seat, love?”

You go straight to the back and take the first seat in the row, not daring to look at anyone on the way up.

“Oh, what type of wicked witch did I cross to get a curse like this?” The familiar disgust of one of the Weasley boys hits your ears. Your head snaps to him, trying to quickly identify which twin you would be spending the year with.

“Hush it, George.” You sneer, not in the mood for his shit. “Or are you Fred?” You squint, the dim candlelight not helping distinguish which. “No, Fred is much more clever with his insults.”

George just rolls his eyes at you, “He might have the brains but I’ve got the looks.” He leans back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head and his feet on the table. “Don’t you agree, Malfie?” He eggs, a smirk on his face.

You let out a scoff. “You both look like gnomes stacked on each other under a robe… Especially with that carrot top of a head of yours.” You push his feet off the table, setting your books where they were. The shove sends his balance off and he falls back onto the floor.

“Well, you were right about Fred having the brains, huh?” You stare down at him. The redhead sticks his tongue out at you like a five-year-old. “This is going to be a long year.” You mumble under your breath.

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley #harry potter #george weasley x malfoy!reader #george weasley imagines #weasley twins #weasley #harry potter imagines #malfoy!reader #george weasley x (Y/N)#george weasley x you #hogwarts #fandomsarchive #draco malfoy x sister!reader #unlike the rest

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sergiusreports · 3 years

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Prompt #2: Aberrant

I suppose I could have murdered my way through the rank and file once I hacked my governor module. I didn’t because A) the threat assessment did not fall in my favor and was therefore, a stupid idea and B) I didn’t really care what these Spoken did to each other.

The military units I had been attached to so far ran the gamut of ‘Let’s have the Sergius unit do everything because we don’t want to die’ (Spoken have a really big hangup about the potential of dying) to ‘We can go into that dark, Resistance filled bunker without the bothersome Sergius.’ And then they die. (That’s an exaggeration. My unit survival rate is five stars.) It just means I have to go in and save them from themselves.

Anyway, these were the things I thought about as the unit rolled into what appeared to be another deserted village. They never are. The heavily armored transport rumbled to a halt and I waited in the cargo hold. Sergius units never ride up front. We’re equipment. Which was fine by me. The thought of all those eyes on me caused a momentary drop in performance.

I listened as the rest of the unit disembarked. It was a small detachment. Not even a dozen soldiers. This area had been under heavy fire for the last few suns. Whoever remained now were too stubborn or too injured to leave. We were just the cleanup crew.

“Alright listen up, the sooner we clear this out, the sooner we can call in for a base camp setup. You three, do a sweep of those buildings to the east, Vasile and Balar grab the ones sitting west, the rest of you spread out.”

“Sir!”

“Sir...the Centurio sent the Sergius with us.”

He hadn’t forgotten. He wanted to ignore that little detail and later claim that it slipped his mind. Now he couldn’t.

“Right. ...Right, let’s get the Pilus his testing data. Unpack it.”

When they opened the bay doors, I made all the appearances of powering up and stepped down onto the deserted street. They really had just rolled into the middle of the town and unloaded in the midst of several unsecured buildings. From a tactical standpoint, it was one of the most stupid things I’d ever seen. And by this point I had seen plenty.

“These constructs give me the creeps. Do you really think they’ll start replacing us on the field?”

“That’s the rumor. Though I hear it's only the citizens that’ll get out of military duty.”

“Gods, I don’t want something like that watching my back. What if it goes on the fritz?”

I wasted no time sending my drones out and patching their image feeds into my peripheral. From one of them I could see the commander of this messed up mission eyeing me like I was just looking for an excuse to kill something. He really should have paid attention to the brief. Then he’d know I technically was supposed to have a governor module that would prevent me from harming his unit.

So, here’s the thing about governor modules. They fucking suck. Imagine someone evaluating your every move. Scoring you on a variety of bullshit qualifiers and if this imaginary person doesn’t like your assessment of a situation or you go to make a move that opposed what they thought you should do, they could hit a button and cause you unimaginable pain. Just a metric tonze of suffering. Until you finally learn life will be so much easier if you just do what they tell you to, no questions asked.

That’s a governor module. And that’s why mine clearly had to go ASAP.

Only half as bad as having one is hacking your own and then having to continue to act like it’s still functioning. Which was the current situation I was dealing with and one I was looking to change soon.

One of my drones noted the spike in aetherical pressure 1.5 seconds before the spell went off.

“Projectile from the east. Cover.” I relayed and hauled several soldiers behind the transport.

The fireball rocked the armored transport as it exploded in the street. Several men too slow to get out of the way screamed as they got caught up in the flame. And that’s why you don’t park a lone transport in the middle of a hostile town. I don’t care how small or how deserted it appears to be.

“Hell!” the commander yelled as he sat, pressed up tight against the cover. “Bastards. This is why I hate Eorzea.”

Look, you have no one to blame but yourself for this shitshow, Commander. For obvious reasons, I did not say that out loud.

“Sergius! Get in there and take care of it!”

Yes, Sergius, now that I’ve done fucked up, go in and fix the problem that could have been handled with no casualties had I decided to utilize you sooner.

My drones dove into the burned out ruin that used to be a shop of some sort. Sweeping through the area they picked up three targets, the mage at the blown out window now covering as they prepared another volley and two others lying in wait at the front point of entry. The back exit was blocked, a large shelving unit shoved up against the door.

I ran out towards the building sitting to the left of the store and ducked my way through a narrow alley.

“Projectile imminent. Remain covered. When it clears, suppressing fire through the storefront window.” I spoke through the linkpearl and patched my drone’s feed over to the commander.

He relayed the plan to the others.

The small intel drones I had equipped weren’t good for much else. But I had learned a handy trick. You could order them to fly into a target’s face. (Assuming you had been ordered to do so or, like me, you had an inoperative governor module) The second the mage’s spell went off I accelerated the drone and like a small projectile, it hit them hard enough across the temple that they went down. In that small space the acceleration likely wasn’t enough to crater their skull but an unconscious target was the same as a null one in this instance.

As I ran around the back of the building I heard the answering suppressing fire. Good. That should keep the other two busy. Conflicting commands filled my feed and I back burnered them. The yelling chatter from the linkpearl I could do without. Even if I hadn’t bricked my own governor module the only one that really mattered was the emergency assessment feed. It told me the blocked door could have been mitigated in several ways. I do come equipped with small energy weapons in my arms but I went instead for the big arquebus strapped to my back. I discharged the weapon at the door and the wood and shelving unit behind it broke apart, leaving a sizable hole.

From my drone feed I knew I would be met by one hostile and was ready as she rushed me the moment I made it inside. The second had chosen to retreat out the front door. Why? I have no idea. He had to know the rest of the unit was parked out there and waiting. As I shoved the woman up against the wall in a restraining hold I heard the gunfire coming from outside. A moment later a kill confirm came across the linkpearl. Sometimes Spoken do things that are counterintuitive to their survival.

I dragged the spitting and cursing hostile out into the street and passed her over to the remaining members of my unit and went back for the unconscious one.

My drones spread out once again, filtering through the rest of the remains of the village.

The commander was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to get further information from the woman. Were there any more of them lying in wait. How many. Where were the rest of the people. Obviously, this wasn’t going to work. The woman had been holed up in that building waiting for us. She probably knew she wasn’t going to make it out alive. Spoken with nothing to lose can be dangerous things.

In any event, we didn’t need her cooperation. My drones reported multiple heat signatures gathered in the inn down the road.

“The rest of the villagers are harboring at the inn two clicks north.”

This brought on a new bout of angry, spitting curses from the hostile. Which, in turn, got the hostile a gloved fist across her face for the outburst. I kept my vision trained through my drones overhead.

“Fine. Clear it out. Sergius, go up there and torch it.” the commander spat, venom in his voice. Someone was bent out of shape.

I watched the feed from my drones as they circled the building in question. It was relatively unscathed, the windows still intact. Peering inside my drones could see about two dozen huddled inside.

“They appear to be the injured and children.” I reported back.

“Good. Then it’ll be easy to take care of.” the commander turned to one of the remaining soldiers. “Call in for base camp set up.”

I still hadn’t moved. Probably a mistake. It didn’t take long for the commander to notice and turn his attention back to me. “Sergius. I said move out.”

“Repeat directive. Protocol states we take the injured and children prisoner. We don’t eliminate them.”

“Protocol my arse. I lost three good men today because of these savages. Burn it down.”

Well, it looked like I had a happy little problem on my hands. Recalling my drones, I did a quick threat assessment. One commander. Three remaining soldiers. No one had called in for a base camp yet. Good. It seemed this was the change in my situation I had been waiting for.

I blocked the testing feed with a flood hack, overwhelming it and causing a momentary program shutdown. Then deleted the .exe for good.

I powered up the small energy weapons in my arms and opened fire.

Turns out I did care what these Spoken did to each other. To a point.

#ffxiv writing #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #prompt 2 #aberrant #Atreus Sergius

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fizzysugarwater · 3 years

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Ninjago Loreposting Part 1: Body, Mind, and Soul

so! It’s time for me to go off. this is gonna get long.

First and foremost, the concept of this “system” of the self for every Ninjagian is originally cautified by @starrygatorr, I just love it to bits and have incorporated it into SO much of my own lore so I want to give it a proper explanation before diving into the rest of it

So! what the hell is the body-mind-soul system? it’s pretty much exactly what it says on the tin - every ninjagian is made up of three parts: the body, the mind, and the soul. These three aspects are, in a living, healthy person, always connected and communicating with each other.

the body is exactly what you think it is, the physical form a person has. It also qualifies as the image of the self, which is why even after death, ghosts still maintain their physical appearance. It’s only after their body completely decomposes that a ghost loses their image.

the mind is kind of like the master key or remote of the self, it’s the one usually pulling all the strings when it comes to giving the body commands and thinking for the person. It’s also technically more strongly-tied to the body than the soul is. it really is the one that’s mostly in charge

the soul is kind of the spark of the self, it is the personality, everything that the mind can’t really comprehend, the soul does instead. the soul is also technically the memory bank of the self, the mind doesn’t actually remember shit!

when a ninjagian dies, their body and mind essentially stop working, and that signals their soul to sever its connections and go to the Departed Realm. in the ~weird cases~ such as being dropped into the cursed realm, the body/mind is essentially put into a stasis, while the soul is released. This is why cursed realm ghosts (like the s5 ghosts, the Anacondrai, and Clouse) are able to maintain their physical images despite their bodies being nowhere to be found

cole is also a special case, as his body/mind combo, in my hc at least, was sealed inside the Temple of Airjitzu for the time that he was a ghost. Probably hidden somewhere by ghosts or Yang.

The other thing that’s important to note about this system is that this system has an extra component in it when it comes to Elemental Masters.

it’s their element! the element is also one of the components that detaches after death, instead seeking the next of kin (or the next holder of the element). in rare cases, with enough concentration and focus on the soul (or with chronosteel or Chen’s staff) the element can be somewhat disconnected from the EM’s system, but unless the EM dies, the element never fully goes away. The element’s strongest connection is with a person’s soul, and in rare cases it’s the part of an EM’s system that is most likely to stay tethered to the soul after death (which is why Morro and Cole are both able to still somewhat access their element despite being detached from body and mind)

so yeah! that’s the three/four-part system of the Ninjagian self! I’m gonna reference this a lot in the next post I make, which will be about the Dreamstream and how one accesses it (and also seers)! if you have any questions feel free to ask them or comment on this post!

#lore.fiz #ninjago #ninjago lore #the three aspect system

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

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Research Paper

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You and Tim get assigned to complete a research paper together. The two of you end up spending way more time together than originally planned. Warnings: Cursing and balls of fluff Word Count: 2k A/N: I still have a few requests, they are coming I just haven’t had too much time to write new stuff...so I’ve been posting old stories I’ve already completed.

The two of you sat at your dining room table, typing away at various research sites and scribbling down miscellaneous notes that could be helpful later. Finally, you looked up at your silent partner.

“So, why the rush to get this research paper done?”

“I’m busy. This is when I have time to do it.”

“Hm –” Before you could continue the thought, Tim cut you off.

“Look, I know you don’t want to be paired with the weird kid. Let’s just finish this and you don’t have to talk to me anymore.”

“Woah there Tim, relax. I don’t know anything about you. Especially not enough to qualify you as the weird kid.” You watched his face turn a slight shade of crimson. “Ya’know, there’s only 20 kids in this class. I bet if you actually talked to some of them you would make friends.” You got up from your seat and sauntered into the kitchen. “So weird kid, you want something to drink?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m fine.” You chuckled to yourself as he stuttered through his response.

“Well, if you insist on completing this in one night, I need some wine. Sure you don’t want a glass?”

“Okay…” Tim hesitantly responded.

The bottle was gone and you began to spiral down a YouTube worm hole. Clicking video after video, ending up on the ever popular topic of vigilantes. “Why do you think they do it?” You mumbled out loud, forgetting your research partner was still sitting across from you.

“Why does…” Tim tugged at your computer and glared at the screen before him. The video was paused on an image of Nightwing and Red Robin. He remembered that night. Mr. Freeze had armed some kind of mass freeze ray in the subway system. There were 5 casualties that night. His voice echoed throughout the room. “Sometimes the police aren’t enough. They have too much red tape or not enough training to handle certain criminals.”

“There’s just so many of them…”

“I think they need each other. Each one making sure the others don’t cross a line they can’t come back from. Keeping them responsible for their actions.”

“You think they aren’t just inherent do-gooders running around?”

“No. I don’t. This city is a toxin, no one born of it is inherently good. Everyone comes to a crossroads, some chose to go left and others, right. Once one goes to the left, you may never go back. However, those who chose to go right are always tempted to take a shortcut to the left. Even knowing they could never return.”

“Dang…you should write a book or something Tim.”

“Just a lot of experience I suppose?” You furrowed your brows and shot him a questioning look. “I was…uhm…rescued by Batman awhile back. Though not before my parents were poisoned.”

“I’m so sorry…” Your eyes cast to the ground as your hand reached across the table, landing atop of his. “I didn’t know.”

Tim brushed it off, “I didn’t expect you to know. I don’t advertise it. Anyways, how’s the ACTUAL research coming along.” You rolled your eyes and turned back towards your computer.

Tim realized he hadn’t heard from you in awhile, so he glanced up from his computer. You were asleep at the table. His eyes shot over to the clock, 4:07am. “Shit.” He mumbled under his breath. Tim then sat there debating what to do for several minutes before pushing his chair back and taking you up in his arms. He laid you on your bed, draping the covers over you, before heading back into the dining room. Almost as soon as Tim sat back at his computer, his phone buzzed.

Don’t forget to get some sleep tonight, baby bird.

Dick had started sending reminders almost every night. Tim debated ignoring it, until more messages came in. Jason, Damian, Barbara, Stephanie, even Cassandra had texted him. Dick truly went all out tonight.

I swear if I have to listen to Dick complain about you not sleeping one more time, I will lose it. Go the fuck to sleep, replacement.

Drake, I was just informed to remind you to sleep tonight. May this serve as that reminder.

Dick just let me know you haven’t slept the past two nights. The body can only properly survive without three nights of sleep. Please sleep.

Timothy Jackson Drake. If you do not sleep tonight, I will be forced to take drastic action. One word: computer.

Don’t make me come knock you out.

Tim quickly sent a group message to everyone. Everyone calm down. It’s only been a day and a half. I’m going to sleep now. And Steph, don’t even look at my fucking computer. Tim sighed and threw himself on your couch, welcoming some much-needed sleep.

You woke up very confused. You glanced around your room, you definitely did not remember going to bed. You threw your legs over the side and noticed you were still completely dressed. What the fuck. Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door. Your eyes darted around the room, noting the two computer still at the dining room table. Tip-toeing over to the living room, you saw Tim passed out on the couch, his phone buzzing beside him. You attempted to end the call, but it answered instead. Shit shit shit. You leapt as far from Tim as you could before whispering into the phone.

“Look I didn’t mean to answer this, but Tim is asleep…and he strikes me as the kind of person who doesn’t get much –” The man on the other end cut you off.

“I’m sorry, who is this? Why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m in class with him. We were partnered on a research paper. He slept…is sleeping here.” You heard the man sigh before he continued.

“Do me a favor and try not to wake him, but tell him Dick called when he does get up.”

“Uh…sure…”

“Oh and put his phone on silent…actually I’ll just block the calls from here. Oh and thanks...I didn’t actually get your name.”

“Y/N.”

“Right, thanks again Y/N.”

You hung up the phone on the weirdest conversation ever and set it next to his computer. You snatched yours up and went back into your bedroom. Might as well get some work done while you waited for Tim to wake up. A few more hours passed and you heard footsteps coming from your living room. Thank god, I so need coffee. You threw open the door and saw Tim standing over his computer.

“Oh, uhm, sorry I slept here last night.”

You waved off the apology, “No problem. What time did we stop?”

“I noticed you were asleep at like 4 in the morning. So I…” Tim ran his finger through his hair, “I just figured the bed was more comfortable.” You smirked as you watched his face turn crimson. Stronger than he looks apparently. “Then I thought it was probably best not to leave that late…so I just crashed on the couch.”

“So we didn’t finish then? As in you better not have finished it without me.”

Tim held up his hands in defense. “No no, I stopped once I saw you were asleep.”

“Well…want coffee and some...” you glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon, “brunch I guess.”

“Oh, uh…if you’re offering? Then sure, I guess.”

“Great, then we can just finish up today.” You made your way to the kitchen, “Oh your brother called.”

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed, “which one?”

“You have multiple? Uh…Dick, I think he said.”

“Yeah, three of them. Do you mind if I call him back?”

You shook your head as you put on the coffee. Tim grabbed the phone from the table and went into your bathroom.

“Dick? Is something wrong?”

“Nah, Alfred just told me you hadn’t been back to the Manor yet. Wanted to make sure we didn’t need to send search and rescue.”

“I’m fine. Listen, do you mind if you cover my patrol tonight?”

“Oh, hot date with Y/N?”

“How do you – nevermind. No, we are finishing a project.”

“Hm, whatever you want to tell yourself Timmy. She seemed sweet on you though.”

“How – who even says that anymore? Are you 60 years old?”

“Awe, look who’s deflecting.”

“Bye Dick!” Tim screamed into the phone before hanging up on his brother.

After brunch was had, the two of you got back to work. However, it didn’t take long for you to get sidetracked.

“Alright, if I sit in this damn chair for another minute I’m going to have permanent back problems. I’m moving to the couch.” You huffed out, before scooping up your computer and plopping down sideways with your back against the armrest. Surprisingly, Tim joined you, propping is feet up on the coffee table. Once the two of you moved to the couch, no more work got done.

“So you close with your family?” You began the barrage of questions. People often called you out for being nosy, but you still couldn’t help it.

“Oh,” Tim glanced up from his computer. “Yeah, I suppose. Too close sometimes.”

“Eh, they wouldn’t be family otherwise. I gather you have a big one?”

“What are we playing 20 questions?”

“Just curious…”

Tim huffed, but began to answer your question anyways. “Yeah, I guess. Though it’s a family forged from bonds, not blood.”

“I’d say that’s the better kind. You chose to stay with and support them, as opposed to being guilted into it because they’re family.”

“Well that clearly struck a chord.”

You shrugged it off, “So three brothers. Blood or bond?”

“Well…a forced bond? Bruce adopted all of us, except Damian I guess.”

You continued to pose questions to your newfound friend, though you found getting most answers was like pulling teeth. Eventually, you made progress and after a few hours you closed your laptop, which had been long since asleep, and tossed it to the floor. “I vote take away and a movie.”

“But we haven’t finished.” Tim argued.

“And I don’t think we are going to tonight. Come on, we still have a month. Relax a little, we’re like 75% done anyways.”

“I –” Before he could protest further you pulled yourself off the couch and reached for your phone.

“I vote Thai.”

You heard a sigh come from the other end of the couch, “Sounds good.” A smile grazed your face as you placed the order and settled comfortably back on the couch. You turned on the movie and didn’t realize you were laying half on Tim until the doorbell roused you. This time it was your turn to don a shade of red. Thankfully, it was too dark for Tim to see.

The food was gone and the movie continued to play in the background, but the two of you were fast asleep laying against each other. That was, until Tim heard a knock on the window. He looked up to see the familiar costumes of his older brothers. He gently held you in place with one arm, while stretching to grab his phone with the other. Tim quickly typed a message.

I’m clearly alive. Leave me the fuck alone.

Tim saw Dick smirk through the window just before a bright white light shone through. Tim’s phone buzzed.

Look Timbers found someone to put up with him.

Of course Jason just had to send that in the group message. Tim typed out his response.

I’m muting this conversation until further notice. Also I’m never telling you guys where I am ever again.

That’s alright, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind telling me. We had a great conversation earlier.

Tim ignored the baited message Dick sent and threw his phone to the other side of the couch before settling back into the comfortable position at your side.

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