#will always be a believer of weird guy clu

[measlyscrapofseafood]

fave clu hc forever and always is the idea because of how he was created, by program standards clu is weird guy, “knows too much about users/the real world” and “uses terms/references things that don’t exist here” type of weird

#tron #tronblr #clu 2 #clu 2.0 #cii speaks #will always be a believer of weird guy clu #i’ll try to find some fics w examples of what i mean #i love love love the hc that he has some of flynn’s memories #even if it’s vague/more of muscle memory i eat that shit up everytime it’s so interesting

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for talking bad about a friend to a group of mutual friends?

I (21f at the time) became friends with a woman (31f) due to work. We both started at the same time and felt on the outs. She ended up becoming "friends" with a ton of people there, only to call me on her drive home and talk shit about them. I don't do that fake stuff, I'll be nice and polite and cordial but im not going to talk outside of work.

Anyways, me and this woman, Nancy I'll call her, were friends. I had just turned 21 and she made it a point to get me to have my first drink. It was fine, didn't really like the taste of it but I wanted to fit in. I got drunk but she let me stay at her place no big deal.

Throughout the next year I noticed things were...weird. I should have clued in when she talked crap about other people to me but would talk to them and agree to make plans (she never would follow through).

She started asking me my sexuality. Always. Talking. About. It. She kept claiming I was repressed and I needed to embrace myself, how she would be proud of me. Except the one time I finally told her the truth, I was on the asexual spectrum, she laughed in my face and told me I had something wrong with me.

She then claimed it was because I hadn't experienced sex yet- or had i? That became her next obsession. Virgin, not virgin, half virgin (her words idk). She would constantly ask, even bringing it up in front of other people. It was embarrassing, even if there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

When I say obsessed about these things I mean EVERY TIME we met up outside of work she would bring these topics up (once a week). For almost a year.

There were other small things but I thought I was just being petty or insecure or something. But then the incident occurred. I was at her house and someone we knew was also there. He touched me non-consensually and didn't stop when I made it clear I wanted him to. He would have done more if he could, there was not a doubt in my mind. I was able to get out and get in a different room and lock the door, which he tried to open.

The issue was she knew he liked me. I had just found out that night. She kept encouraging me to drink and I did. I dont blame her for me drinking, that was my fault. I do blame her for leaving me alone with him when she knew I was uncomfortable being around him after he kept flirting with me. I was so drunk I couldn't stand up and she left me.

But she had also drank and I was going to say it was just because of that. Until a week later she got mad at me for kicking the guy out of her house (which I didnt do but I guess he claims i did). She looked me in the eyes and said it would have been my fault if he died cause he also had been drinking. I told her I didn't tell him to leave nor did I kick him out. She said that he said I did. I personally didn't care if he claimed I did because I didn't do that, she should believe me as her friend, and I quote "I literally just left as soon as possible because he groped me".

She looked me in the eyes and told me "I don't care if he raped you, he was drunk and it was my house, you had no right to kick him out".

Again, I didnt kick him out. I did tell him he could stay or leave and I didnt give a shit, but I never told him he had to (even if I WANTED him to).

I was obviously very perturbed by this. I stopped being her friend. I did bring it up once a year later when she reached out and wanted to amend things. She took no responsibility for what she said, claimed I was being insensitive. When I asked her how she thought I felt, she claimed she was a recovering alcoholic and had been drinking that entire time and wasn't thinking straight.

Which I could understand for some things she said or did, but what about when she was sober?

I quit being her friend. A few months back, I was hanging out with 2 mutual friends and a girl I had never met. We all were laughing and having a good time, no drinks involved (ever since that night I haven't drank). One of my friends mentioned Nancy and how we should invite her. I made a face and they asked why. I simply said we weren't friends anymore. They kept pressuring me and wouldn't drop the subject.

I finally told them. I said, and I quote because I remember it VERY clearly, "We aren't friends because she's a despicable person. I was groped and she told me she wouldn't have cared if I was raped. She also wouldn't shut the fuck up about my sexuality and my status of virginity, whether I was or wasn't."

The one girl I hadn't met had gasped and comforted me. The other two was shocked but then shared a few things Nancy had done to them. I felt a lil better knowing that these people also felt bad and it wasn't all in my head like Nancy had claimed.

Well, I just got a message from Nancy. Turns out, that girl worked with her now. Nancy was trying to get a promotion and that girl was actually her supervisor. She was denied a promotion based on her actions. The girl used plenty of examples, none that could quite come back to me and almost all related to work i found out. But I guess one of our mutual friends told her I had mentioned something because she knew. She said it was my fault she didn't get the promotion. She then told me that she was struggling with a newborn and how this would have helped a lot and now the newborn may suffer.

I feel bad for the baby as the baby has nothing to do with the parent. I didnt know when I mentioned what happened to the girl that it would cost her a promotion. I feel sick to my stomach thinking that I did the one thing she did that made me mad, be friends to their face but talk shit behind their back.

I have been banned from the company under Nancy's order apparently, which is fine I can go elsewhere it was just nice seeing people I worked with previously. But now everyone knows something went down. Nancy and her fiance are really coming at me for their troubles and I feel terrible. St the time I didnt think I was the asshole but I dont know now. Should I apologize?

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #rape cw

[mlobsters]

supernatural s15e7 last call (w. jeremy adams)

this bit with eileen is cute

DEAN It means I got to... I got to get out of here, okay? I just... I got to... I'm gonna take a drive, clear my head. SAM Alone? DEAN Yeah, you know, you and Eileen, you guys are having fun. I don't want to spoil that, you know? SAM Yeah, go, go. Clear your head. Eileen and I have stuff to do. DEAN Yeah, I'll bet you do. Yeah? Hmm? SAM It's not like that. I-I-I meant looking for Chuck and Lilith and... DEAN Sure. Got it. Um, okay, but if, uh, things go your way, just make sure you put the sock on the door so I know.

throwing a love interest at sam real fast out of the blue and i'm like hey wait slow down what now? and i mean, we're not completely blindsided, they set up the flirty thing between them before she died and all. but having her pop back up, sam turned into a witchy genius and finished rowena's spell licketysplit, magicked up her a fresh body and now they're getting drunk at night and making hangover breakfasts in the bunker in the morning. that's a lot. and dean bolting out of there too to stay busy and let them be alone. anyway, solo hunt and lying about it, that always goes well

i dunno, man. i'm having a hard time believing dean would be okay with dumping his cell off no questions asked just walking into this bar

i don't think i'm in the right mindset to watch dean flirting and gallivanting living his swayze road house dreams

next day, not sure it's improved (i've been sick [stomach variety] coming up on a week, i am so tired of this) but maybe i can get it done anyway.

i gather this dude christian kane must be a music friend too since i guess they have a bandmate in common, steve carlson? i tried to watch leverage but it didn't grab me, i think it made it through a season or so? and funnily enough, the music kind of put me off 🥴 the cheesiest of heist music

i watched the trailer for road house from 1989 (because apparently there's a new road house (2024) with gyllenhall) and wow. something about bouncing people in pleated pants. i probably would have enjoyed it when i was teenager but i think i need the modern sensibilities of the remake if i'm gonna enjoy a big ridiculous action movie that focuses on just punching the shit out of each other :p

the tone of this scene where sam's about to kiss eileen is just weird. the music is kind of.. mushy wistful, like the mushy music theme but different. and there's a lot of awkward exchanging of looks. and then sam gets clued in what eileen's talking about. i'm just really not picking up what they're putting down. but get a big dramatic interruption with cas popping back in.

also fucking netflix and its caption placement is consistently awful.

CASTIEL Good. I've been thinking about that gun, the, uh... the Equalizer? When you shot God, it fired a piece of your soul.

his SOUL. sure. SURE

DEAN Man, so I don't think I've seen you since Sammy was in college.

gotta tally up all the hunters they mentioned he worked with while sam was in college. think richie too? sure there's others

from 3x04 sin city SAM Not too bad. How do you two know each other? DEAN You were in school. RICHIE It was that succubus, in Canarsie right?

CASTIEL No, but I am sure I can't heal the wound. Maybe I can probe it. SAM Probe it? CASTIEL Study it, see if it can lead us to Chuck.

jamming his fist into sam's chest rooting around for his non-existent soul, sucking the leftover angel grace out of his neck with a needle, what's a little probing of a soul wound from god

DEAN Okay. One, three bottles of Jaeger is nobody's friend, and "B," they were twins.

may have just yelled, BRO! DAMNIT! lol i thought we were done with the 1, B (A, 2) thing that drives me up a WALL whenever it comes up because i can't find the paul reiser mad about you reference to him doing it despite being quite sure that he used it a lot in that show

LEE Whoa, no, they were not twins. They were triplets, uh, and we split them up fair and square.

dean and dudes and triplets.

from 10x01 black DEAN Okay, see, the deal was we howl at the moon -- no time stamp, no expiration date. CROWLEY We've howled. We've bayed. We've done extraordinary things to triplets, all of which have been massively entertaining. I will treasure our Flickr albums forever. But now it's time for us to accept what we are and go back to work.

--

DEAN Trust me, uh, bigger doesn't always equal better. Besides, who's gonna look out after the little guy? God certainly isn't. LEE Damn, brother, that's dark. DEAN Yeah, it's been a rough, uh... it's been a rough decade, Lee.

understatement of the century

(wiki)

The band at Swayze's Bar is a band made up of the Supernatural crew called The Impalas that has played together for many years. Here they are called "The Texas Impalas" and are made up of Perry Battista, Tracy Dunlop, Dave Webb, Cam Beck, and Chris Glynn Jones.

that's neat. i'm glad at least we got some dean singing that wasn't intentionally cringey. i feel like this episode is fan service, but dean/jensen is the main fan in question lol

SERGEI Small thing. CASTIEL What is it? SERGEI Sam is... dying.

of course he is! he's almost dead or actually dead CONSTANTLY. jesus.

and dean's buddy acting shifty, of course. also rolling my eyes that they had this friend insist that the car was raptured based on no info

SERGEI Ah, well, there you go. Most wounds want to be healed, to be whole. But this, this wound is different. It goes down to his very soul. But also out into the world. From what I can tell, his soul, it's connected to something or someone somewhere. Except, as you probed deeper, you forced the soul to stretch from Sam's body to... EILEEN Where? SERGEI I don't know. But now it's like a rubber band. If it is stretched too far, too long, pop, it snaps, and Sam dies.

LOL sure. they've destroyed my suspension of disbelief i just can't haha and castiel's face made me laugh

and now cas just had supposedly bobby?? watching this rando's niece so he could threaten with killing her to get what he wants? sure!

LEE Well, not the old me, anyway. I wasn't kidding about Arizona. What that thing did to that family, those kids, it stuck in my head. If evil like that exists in the world, then guys like you and me, we ain't ever gonna win. The best we can do is just have a little fun. The last Hunt I did, the one right around here, I found something.

very logical and sense-making

LEE You don't, Dean? I am you. I'm just you that woke up and saw that the world was broken. DEAN Then you fix it. You don't walk away. You fight for it.

dean-o gets to remember the lesson that he does actually care and is willing to fight even if it's unclear what's god pulling strings vs his distinct choice

LEE Why do you care so much, Dean? DEAN Because someone has to. LEE Well, then... I'm glad it was you.

uh huh. insert another eyeroll lol. ugh. i'm being an asshole but they lost me :p

SAM Dean, Chuck is weak. I think we can beat him. I think we can beat God.

okie doke. team free will whatever dot whatever, back at it

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 15x07 #spn clip #jeremy adams #christopher lennertz #tim wynn #spn musical score

[wrestlingisfake]

World Tag League & Super Jr. Tag League final preview

Mark Davis & Kyle Fletcher vs. Hirooki Goto & YOSHI-HASHI - This is the final match of the World Tag League tournament. The winning team will receive matching trophies. Traditionally, the WTL winners issue a challenge to the IWGP heavyweight tag team champions for Wrestle Kingdom. This time the titleholders are AEW's Dax Harwood and Cash Wheeler, so I'm not certain they'll be available on January 4, but I would imagine they've cleared their calendar.

Both teams scored went 7-2 in the block matches to finish on top with 14 points. However, Aussie Open (Fletcher/Davis) won their block match against Bishamon (Goto/Yoshi), so they're technically in first place. Bishamon is looking for a repeat of last year, when they won WTL and went on to capture the IWGP tag title. Aussie Open is seeking to win the tournament on the first try, and recover from losing the STRONG tag title back in October.

I still can't shake the feeling Yoshi is a glorified jobber, even though he's been on a roll for a couple of years now. In a weird way that makes Bishamon matches really good, since I'm always surprised when they do a big comeback and it actually works. As for Aussie Open, I don't keep up with the US-based roster on Strong, so I haven't seen much of these guys, but what I've seen is good. This is a matchup that feels like it shouldn't be headlining, but I bet when I sit down to watch it they'll make me believe it belongs in the main event.

I think either team can work facing FTR in the Tokyo Dome. But Aussie Open already challenged the champs back in October, so Bishamon is a fresher matchup. So I expect Goto and Yoshi to go back-to-back.

Chris Bey & Ace Austin vs. Lio Rush & YOH - This is the final match in the Super Jr. Tag League tournament. The winning team receives a pair of trophies and typically challenges the IWGP junior heavyweigh tag team champions. Since this year's tournament is so close to January, I expect the winners to face Catch 2/2 (Francesco Akira and TJP) at Wrestle Kingdom, but we'll have to wait and see if that gets booked.

The two teams finished on top of the block at 14 points. Yoh and Rush are technically in first place, since they won the block match against Bey/Austin. On the other hand, Bey and Austin won their block match against Catch 2/2, which should put them in line for a title shot whether they win the tournament or not.

Lio returned to NJPW in October, making the save for Yoh and Rocky Romero against Yujiro Takahashi and Yoh's former partner SHO. Yoh and Sho dominated this tournament with a 2017-2019 dynasty, but Yoh missed most of 2020 with an injury, and Sho turned on him during the 2021 Super Jr. Tag League. So it makes a lot of sense for Lio to seek out an alliance with a junior tag specialist in need of a new partner, and it seems to be paying off.

Either team could win, but my gut feeling is that it's Austin and Bey's time. Although they're members of Bullet Club they're primarily in Impact Wrestling, so they've been largely isolated from the rest of the faction. A junior tag title run for them would serve to bring them closer to the fold, or to demonstrate New Japan's commitment to Impact.

Karl Anderson vs. Hikuleo - Anderson is defending the NEVER openweight championship. This match was originally announced back on October 4 and scheduled for November 5. However, Anderson returned to WWE on October 10, and got booked for WWE's Crown Jewel show on 11/5. Unexpectedly, Anderson continued to film promos for New Japan about the situation, vowing to make good on the title defense on his own time. Apparently New Japan was clued into Anderson's WWE return ahead of time, and there's been some sort of agreement in place all along.

Hikuleo turned on Bullet Club on September 25, saving his brother Tama Tonga from a beatdown by Jay White, Karl Anderson, and Doc Gallows. Tama handed Anderson's title belt to Hikuleo, which amounted to issuing a challenge. That's all the story we got before the interpromotional weirdness went down.

It feels like the whole point of all this is to have Anderson drop the title in a big loss to put over Hikuleo on his way out. However, reports suggest Anderson is committed to appearing at Wrestle Kingdom. So that has me wondering if he'll retain the title to set up some other challenger to really put him away for good on January 4. Or I suppose Hikuleo could just win the belt and Gallows and Anderson wind up in a tag match at the Tokyo Dome. Either way, I expect a post-match angle of some sort.

Jay White & Taiji Ishimori & Gedo vs. Kazuchika Okada & Tama Tonga & Master Wato - White is defending the IWGP world title against Okada on January 4. On that same show, Ishimori is defending the IWGP junior title against three challengers, including Wato. Gedo is White's crony and Tama is still mad White kicked him out of Bullet Club. No one in this match has any business getting pinned right now except Gedo, who is probably here to lose the match for his team.

Tetsuya Naito & SANADA & BUSHI & Titan vs. Hiroshi Tanahashi & Toru Yano & Ryusuke Taguchi & Clark Connors - Naito/Sanada and Tana/Yano were in World Tag League; Bushi/Titan and Taguchi/Connors were in Super Jr. Tag League. I'm not sure where any of these guys fit into plans for Wrestle Kingdom, and I doubt we'll get any answers about that in this match. I'm picking Naito's team to win.

Minoru Suzuki & Lance Archer & Yoshinobu Kanemaru & DOUKI vs. EVIL & Yujiro Takahashi & SHO & Dick Togo - Suzuki/Archer and Evil/Yujiro were in WTL; Nobu/Douki and Dick/Sho were in SJTL. Since Archer is here I think that means this is the first time an WWE guy (Karl Anderson) and an AEW guy will appear on the same show.

It's a little weird for two heel groups (Suzuki-gun and Evil's House of Torture) to face off like this, but at least it's fresh. Suzuki made some cryptic comments about big plans for the future coming together on this show. That makes me think he plans to challenge Evil, Yuj, and Sho for the NEVER trios title at Wrestle Kingdom. To do that he needs to win this match, and I have a pretty good feeling he will.

Great-O-Khan & Aaron Henare & TJP & Francesco Akira vs. Robbie Eagles & Tiger Mask & Gabriel Kidd & Alex Coughlin - Khan/Henare and Coughlin/Kidd were in WTL; Tiger/Eagles and Catch 2/2 were in SJTL. Khan's team should make short work of the good guys here.

KUSHIDA & Kevin Knight vs. Shane Haste & Mikey Nicholls - Kushida and Knight were in Super Jr. Tag League, while Haste and Nicholls were in World Tag League. So this is a battle of heavyweights versus junior heavyweights. That probably doesn't bode well for the juniors, even though Kushida is the biggest star here. Knight will probably lose the fall.

Alex Zayne & EL LINDAMAN vs. Ryohei Oiwa & Kosei Fujita - Zayne and Lindaman were in SJTL, but Oiwa and Fujita are merely Young Lions working the opening matches, so this is just a squash match.

#njpw #world tag league #super jr. tag league #aussie open #bishamon #yoshi-hashi #hirooki goto #kyle fletcher #mark davis #ace austin #chris bey #yoh #lio rush #karl anderson #hikuleo

[twodimecastle]

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #my writing #spencer reid fluff

[salamoonder]

Alright, so here’s the thing. At this point, I actually don’t care what Artagan has or hasn’t done and, morally, what that means. It’s irrelevant. Interesting, but irrelevant. What I want to talk about is what the Nein, excluding Jester, know about him, and what they do with this information, and how they cast judgment.

Here are things that the nein have actually seen: fleeting glimpses of a figure in a green cloak. one conversation with a giant archfey who has recruited jester’s help in planning a convention. further, fleeting glimpses. very very brief phrases.

Here are things that the nein have heard about him from jester: he’s pretty cool, you guys :) . he’s got a chaotic streak, like her. he helps her pull off pranks. he’s always shown up for her. he’s handsome. he taught her magic. he kept her company when her mom was busy. he is her first friend. he is her best friend. he is her oldest friend. she really loves him.

and yes, they know he misrepresented himself to jester for years. they know he sent them to an island where you lose your memory every night. they know that he is sketchy as fuck and they do not know if he means what he says. and that is reasonable and understandable and fair.

here is something that i don’t know if you guys know about abusers, regardless of if artagan is one or not. (and he’s not. i’m not even going to say i don’t think he is, he literally is not abusive. words mean something; stop throwing them around because you personally don’t like someone.) you cannot tell their victims that they are abusive or awful or manipulative or horrible, and expect that to help. that makes it worse. the same is true of cults. you cannot, and i mean CANNOT, make yourself hostile, because then the outside world is hostile, and the abuser is safe. the outside world is hostile, and the cult is safe. furthermore you’re reinforcing what every abuser and what every cult plants in their victim’s heads--i’m the only one who would put up with you. i’m the only one who really loves you. everyone else will be cruel to me, but i’m the only thing you have. even if the nein had reason to suspect that the traveler was straight up abusing jester instead of just weird and shady, that is not a good response.

no matter how bad artagan is or isn’t, fjord, caduceus, and beau are still being condescending. they are still failing to trust that jester knows what she’s talking about. they are still trying to coddle her, they are still treating her like a child, and i want to talk about that. i want y’all to see that they’re still treating her like she’s emotionally fragile. like individually, i want to talk about that, and also the fact that everyone seems to want to lump caleb into this. (and yasha?? yasha has barely said anything about him, y’all.)

i’m going to skim over caduceus a bit because i don’t think his is a jester-centric problem. he tends to just trust that he either has the correct answers to a situation, or that even if he doesn’t know what’s correct, he knows what isn’t. this arc has been very interesting, because it’s been a lot of “i’ll play along with this because it sounds intriguing, but i’m going to be very self righteous about it the whole time.” like. the “we’re good” when jester brought up transferring followers to melora is haunting me. why “we’re good”? i get cad’s philosophy that not everyone is going to flock to one god--that’s fine, that makes sense. but the implication of “we’re good” really makes it sound like “mmm no thanks, none of these people would end up in my cool and correct religion anyway.” because he doesn’t know! he doesn’t know if any of these people would actually be happier and better off with melora. or. maybe he does know, or has decided, that they wouldn’t be, because these are not the kind of people that he could see himself falling under the same moral umbrella as. (lmao love how i said i was going to skim. anyway. again, less a jester thing, more a “cad is smug about everything” thing tbh.)

let’s move to fjord. he is quite honestly making me almost more uncomfortable than beau, because he’s making statements that i don’t really actually believe. “we just don’t want you to get hurt” is all very well and good. coupling that with agreeing with beau that they shouldn’t leave jester alone with artagan? without telling jester? does not jive. (i’m still not over the ridiculous of that, by the way. yeah this dude--no, this ARCHFEY, who could snap you in half in a moment--has been alone with her regularly for the first 20ish years of her life but now, now he’s going to try and kill her, and you’re going to be the one to stop that.) fjord keeps saying things like this--that he trusts her--but he doesn’t actually act like it. at one point he even says “if jester has faith in the traveler, that’s good enough for me, i suppose.” but it’s not, and he doesn’t act like it is. you know who actually acts like that? caleb. caleb’s getting his own paragraph though this is getting long as fuck. but if fjord actually meant that? he would’ve told beau “listen i know this situation is sketchy and i don’t like him anymore than you do but because i trust jester i also trust that she knows what she’s doing here, and i’ll be there to back her up with whatever she needs/wants me to do”. but he did not say that or anything like that. instead he agreed with beau to essentially be bodyguarding jester--without consulting jester about it at all. he wouldn’t have told jester “he’s generally full of shit, right?” about the traveler. jester is continually telling the group over and over again that she knows what he’s like. she knows Exactly how he can be. and the sad thing is, if fjord actually believed that she knew what she was talking about when she said that and if he believed that he could actually talk to her frankly and not that her feelings had to be protected at all costs (my skin is still crawling at “we don’t wanna ruin jester’s special day”. it’s not a five year old’s birthday party), then he would have straight up told her. he would have said “hey we’re concerned enough that he’s going to hurt you that we don’t think you should be alone with him. can we help guard against that?”

and i’ll be honest, i’ve kind of been squicked out by all the romantic posts about fjord and jester because he’s spent the last few episodes genuinely treating her like a wonderful but vulnerable child who needs to be protected from the world. when he told beau "I'm probably the least clued in as to how jester feels” i was like YEAH NO SHIT. and i know he meant it in a romantic sense but i feel that it’s true in general. like i get that he’s scared to talk to her. that’s fine. he doesn’t have to talk to her about her feelings, romantic or otherwise. but if he’s acknowledging that he does not at all know how she feels then he has no right to behave as if he does know. and again i don’t mean this in a romantic sense. i mean it in a, he is making the assumption that she can’t handle reasoned criticism of the traveler to her face, kind of sense. he and beau both are opting for “random insults, threats, and judgments they have decided apply” over “genuinely this is why we are concerned”. there has been a lot of “you don’t need him” and “you are better off without him” and “you’re better than him” and “you have us why do you need that” and those are judgement statements that are essentially meaningless. all they do is further demonstrate to jester that they don’t actually understand why she’s upset or what she actually wants.

i think caleb, mr i-eat-encyclopedias-for-breakfast, likely just has a better intellectual understanding of the fae and that may be why he’s not as outwardly concerned as the rest, but he’s also actually decided to trust jester that she knows what she’s dealing with. she has demonstrated both verbally and with her actions that even if she may not have known about artagan initially, She Knows How This Works. and he trusts that. caleb truly went “alright, i trust that you know what you’re doing, where do you need me” and that was IT. i’m not saying that he’s not allowed to be suspicious or concerned or wary of the traveler: i just don’t think he is. and i hate that people keep lumping him in with the rest of the nein “treating jester like a child” because they think he’s predatory or something--especially as caleb and fjord are pretty much the same age--when he is literally the only FUCKING person consistently asking jester how she feels and then actually acting accordingly.

and the thing is, you don’t have to be caleb and largely unconcerned, it is actually possible for you to show concern and alarm and wariness for your friend’s best friend without condescending to them and veth has been doing that this whole damn time. we know how she feels about him; she decidedly does not like him. but she set that aside to really fully listen to jester and then tried to be helpful to her in deciding what to do next, without inserting her own opinion. veth is the only one acknowledging that, sure, this looks really bad and i don’t like that guy, but you know him best, jester, and you know yourself best and so it should be your choice what to do in this situation. she reminds jester--if he is really a friend to you, and he is doing things you don’t like, then you can talk to him about that and he should listen. i want to talk about how when jester suggested that artagan join the mighty nein, there were exactly three reactions. extremely lame excuses from everyone but caleb and veth, “maybe, like, an annex--” from caleb, because he knows what everyone else is gonna say, and “we don’t like your friend” from veth, literally the only person who has apparently decided that jester can hear that without dissolving into a puddle or something.

and i want to make it clear--i don’t hate the actors. and stories are supposed to make you upset and uncomfortable, to an extent. they’re supposed to make you think. you’re not supposed to be happy when darth vader blows up alderaan. you’re not supposed to be happy when edmund betrays his siblings to the white witch. these are all excellent, excellent character choices and i applaud the cast for making them. and i don’t hate fjorester. and like yeah there have been a lot of cute moments in the last few eps. and they are cute and their story is compelling and it’s interesting. but i wish people would stop acting like fjord’s attitude towards her is perfect and lovely and that he trusts her sooo much when he is going behind her back like this. i am...the biggest widomauk shipper. and i have to admit my heart does the swoopy thing every time i rewatch the forehead kiss. but that wasn’t great. it was overall really not a good read or handle of the situation. it was, there was an attempt. and i do think fjord is trying. and i think beau is trying too. and i think all of their attitudes however terrible just come from a place of loving her and wanting to protect her. but--and here i must point frantically back at artagan--loving someone does not mean that you’re not hurting them.

#artagan #the traveler #jester lavorre #fjord #beauregard lionett #caleb widogast #veth brenatto #the mighty nein #critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #thane watches critical role #long post

[sunsetinmyvein]

Ran Into Some Complications - Matty Healy

Thank you to the ever lovely @imagine-that-100​ for the request from the prompt list. 

Why did time always seem to go by so slowly when you were stuck waiting by yourself? Was there a reason that seconds seemed to feel like minutes? Was it just mind games or did it literally create some weird kind of wormhole? Probably the former. I checked my phone for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping that I finally had a ‘on my way!’ message sitting there, only to come up empty. Again. So much for meeting at the bar for six - it was already six thirty. I sighed to myself, thanking the bartender as they handed me the cider I had ordered.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing at the bar all by yourself?” I heard a voice call from behind me. I instantly gritted my teeth as I turned to face the source of the sleazy comment. Sure enough, the crooked smile, the greasy, slicked back hair, he looked as shady as he sounded.

“Just waiting for a mate.” I said, trying to diffuse this situation before it started.

“They left you here all alone?” He asked as he slid into the stool next to mine. “Let me buy you a drink.” He added as he tried to flag the bartender down. Ugh. Why.

“No thanks, got one.” I said as I held up my cider. “And they’re on their way.” I dismissed.

“I’ll just keep this stool warm for them, then.” He grinned. I could smell the whiskey on his breath. Gross. This evening was headed in a downward spiral if I didn’t cut this off soon.

“I- you really don’t have to.” I grimaced, my eyes darting around the room to try and spot an easy way out of this. I caught sight of a group of four men walking in, eyeing them hopefully. The one closest to the bar seemed well kept. He had a grey suit jacket on, his straight hair was neatly combed back, he was laughing with his friends. He seemed friendly. He’d do. “Oh, this is him now.”

  I hopped off my stool, stepping in front of the dark-haired man. “What took you so long?” I asked with a warm smile.

He stared at me in bewilderment, “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Come here.” I said with a light laugh, trying to pretend that this wasn’t awkward.

“What? Why?” He asked with a confused frown.

I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him down closer to my level to try and not be overhead. “Please just come here.” I said, trying to look as imploring as I possibly could. This was going to look bad on me if he didn’t come with me. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if this guy shrugged me off and I had to walk back over there. He stared at me for a long moment, before turning back to his friend who had stopped to see what was happening.

“I, erm, suppose I’ll be back in a bit?” He said with a shrug.

  Thankfully, this man came willingly with me back towards the bar. And I was even more grateful for him being quite clued on. He took one look between me, and the greasy dude sitting opposite me, to get the hint.

“So sorry, love. Traffic was awful.” He said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. Geez, he was really going all in. I felt my face burning at the unexpected attention. At least it was going to look the part. “Have you already got a drink?”

“Yeah. Do you want one?” I nodded, turning to him. He really was standing awfully close to me. At this proximity I was able to smell the pleasant smell of the aftershave that he had used.

“I’ll just have my usual.” He said with a smirk.

“Uhh…” My eyes widened as I processed his answer. Fuck. Had this guy just agreed to help me to be equally as annoying as the sleazy one? Maybe I’d just made this situation so much worse. I quickly scanned over his appearance. The neat hair, the grey jacket, he seemed like the kind of person to drink a clear drink. “Gin and tonic.” I ordered apprehensively.

“Close enough.” He chuckled under his breath.

  The bartender brought over the extra drink and passed it over to my new found fake date.

“How was work? Did you get that booking sorted out?” He asked casually. God, he was smooth. He was definitely the right person to have grabbed to act like who I was waiting for.

“Yeah! It was a hassle but I got there in the end.” I laughed with a nod, playing along. I was surprised at how easy this felt, to be honest. This guy gave me the vibes of someone that I’d like to have a genuine conversation with, rather than a pretend one. “What about you?” I asked back. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Taking a quick glance at it, I saw that it was a message from the friend I had been waiting on – saying that they couldn’t make it. Phew. Good thing I had dragged over someone else instead of just waiting.

“The studio was a bit gruelling but that’s nothing new.” He shrugged. Studio? What on earth did this guy do for a living? He must’ve noticed me frowning at his comment, because he just raised an eyebrow like he was challenging me to question it. In taking a good look at him, this guy was a bit of a looker. There were definitely worse people I could’ve grabbed. “But this evening is making up for it.” He added as he took a sip from his glass. Wait. Was he flirting?

  It seemed that whatever this guy was doing worked, because my creepy stalker decided to get up and walk off. I let out a sigh of relief as I looked over at the empty stool.

“Thank god he left.” I huffed.

“He’ll come back.” The dark-haired man shrugged as he slipped into the empty seat. I gave him a questioning look as to how he could know that. “He left his whiskey on the bar.” He added as he gestured towards it.

I nodded in understanding. It was nice at least to have a breather to recompose myself and finally have a sip of my drink. “Thanks for this.” I said after a minute of silence.

“It’s okay.” He replied with what looked like a genuine smile, picking up his gin. “I can think of much worse ways to spend my night.” He added as he eyed me over the rim of his glass.

Now that was definitely flirting. Part of my brain found it ironic to have replaced one guy trying to hit on me with another. But… I didn’t mind so much with this one. “Are you flirting with me?” I accused.

“Are you blushing?” He shot back. The air of confidence surrounding this guy was undeniably attractive.

  Before I had a chance to respond, greasy hair man was back. He frowned at the offender sitting in his stool.

“Do you wan-” He started to say, turning to me. But he was cut off before he could finish whatever he was going to ask.

“I can’t believe that you also listen to them!” My fake date laughed loudly. He fell into these shenanigans far too readily. But I wasn’t about to complain. “Shh… listen…” He said, holding up a hand to quiet us. I stopped talking, trying to listen to whatever he had heard. “That’s the sound of me falling in love with you.” He continued.

I let out an uneasy laugh, trying to shrug off his comment. “I’ve been listening to them for ages.” I responded, trying to keep up with how quickly he was building this story.

“Ah, sorry, mate. Just nice to be together after a long day.” He said with a corny grin as he placed a hand on my knee. I looked down at it for a moment, trying very hard to keep my reactions to his blatant flirting in check. “Matty, by the way.” This guy - Matty, said as he stuck out his hand to sleazy dude. “And you are..?” He asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Leaving.” He answered abruptly as he reached between us and picked up his whiskey, before heading on his way.

“Well… that worked.” I chuckled.

  “Seems I was an effective deterrent.” Matty said with a nod as he took a swig from his glass.

“You did a good job with that.” I agreed. “You were far too good at it, though.”

“Too good?” He asked with a surprised grin. “That doesn’t seem like it should be a problem.”

I shrugged. “Just makes me question how many times girls have roped you into situations like this.”

“Roping me into it? What if I was the one trying to get out of the awkward situation?” He questioned.

“You really get that much unwanted attention?”

“More than you can imagine.”

  We chatted for a bit, actually starting to get to know each other properly now that we didn’t have to play pretend that we already did. It turned out that he was in a band, hence the studio time earlier today. The guys that he had come in with were his band mates, getting a drink after a long day. He had a general sense of charisma and charm about him. The more I talked to him, the more I wanted to keep talking to him. And thankfully the flirting dropped off once there was no longer anyone standing nearby to try and convince. It was easier on my brain to process our conversation without having to also process an attractive man hitting on me. Before I knew it, an hour had passed. I was surprised that he was still hanging around, given that what I had asked of him was done now.

“Did you want get out of here?” Matty eventually offered nonchalantly.

I choked on the cider I had been sipping, trying to recompose my thoughts. “What?” I spluttered.

“He’s still side eyeing you across the bar,” He explained, gesturing towards the other side of the room. He was right, sleazy man was boring holes into the side of my head. “if we leave together then he should get the hint.” Right. That made much more sense than the alternative reason as to why he’d ask that.

  Matty’s plan worked. We were not followed when we stepped outside into the brisk night air and ordered an uber. He sent a message to his friends, letting them know that he had to leave. I felt bad. His night had been forced to end because of me. I told him that it was fine now, that I’d be happy to head home by myself and he could go back inside to his friends. But he insisted that he make sure I get home safe. The sentiment was pretty heart-warming, to be honest. I doubt I could’ve picked a better guy to help me in such a shitty situation. Once we were settled in the back of the car, I could finally breathe a bit easier. It was nice to not feel like I was being shadowed.

“Sorry for ruining your night.” I apologised.

“Ah, you didn’t ruin it.” He said with a dismissive hand wave. “I dread the thought about what might’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up.” He continued, staring out the window pensively, before he seemed to knock himself out of whatever train of thought he had been on. “But good thing I was.” He said as he turned back to me with a bright grin.

“Well, thank you.” I nodded. “You were good company, for a fake date.” I chuckled, nudging his side playfully.

“Well… I wouldn’t mind taking you out to a bar again as a not fake date.” He offered, running a hand through his hair. He… what? My brain took a second to comprehend what he was suggesting. “If you’d let me.” He quickly added.

My thoughts kicked into gear as I realised that he thought I might decline. “Yeah. Yeah! That sounds like a good idea.” I agreed.

“I assure you, I’m a much better real date than fake date.”

#matthew healy x reader #matty healy x reader #sunsetinmyvein prompts #sunsetinmyvein requests #sunsetinmyvein

[pasiveagressive]

Carpool Karaoke // H.S.

You rub your ring finger, feeling weird like you do every time you take off your ring. 

“Thank you so much for helping me get to work today.”

“Oh yeah not a problem at all.” you smile and reply to James

“Do you mind if we listen to some music?”

“Yes, of course!” James hits play and your newest song comes on. The two of you sing along and jam out to it. Once it’s over James looks at you, 

“So Y/N, you have a new album coming out right?”

“Yes! This Friday! I am so excited it has been my baby for the past year or so.” you smile giddy that you are finally releasing your sophomore album into the world.

“I heard for a little birdy that you have some pretty big collaborations on it?”

“Is said birdy’s name Will?” you roll your eyes and laugh “but to answer your question, yeah Dua, sorry Dua Lipa,” James laughs

“As if there is another Dua out there.”

“I know but I just like to make sure I am clear, you know the media they like to twist things.” you laugh it off. “Anyway so Dua, Marren Morris and a surprise.” 

“A surprise huh?” James looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Yep and that's all you're getting.” 

“Okay, okay.” He laughs and you go into the next song.

“So last time you were on my show was almost a year ago now.”

“Was it really that long ago? Wow.” you smile 

“Since then you have released a new movie, a new show, walked in Fashion week and written an entire album,”

“Well the album was being written the last time I was on still.”

Oh my bad,” James says sarcastically “you only wrote part of an album.” 

“Hey no need for an attitude mister. I just like being honest.” You joke with him.

“Well my question is how do you have time for a social life? You post pictures with your friends all the time and fans are convinced that you have a significant other.” James asks, the bastard has had suspicions that you and Harry were an item but you haven’t told him yet.No one else really knows except for family, and both yours and Harry’s teams. James just wants you to slip up and spill the secret that you have been trying to keep for almost a year now. 

“Well James, I am very lucky to have such a great team of people with me from my manager Will to my assistant Victoria, and everyone in between. They really help keep me balanced along with my other friends and family. And as for a significant other, fans and tabloids always have something to say whether it's true or not they will believe what they want to.  So there is just no point in denying or confirming if there is someone or not because someone out there is just going to say what they want anyway.” he leaves it at that and puts on another song.

“Hey do mind if we pick someone else up?” he says pulling over

“I mean no? But did I really have a choice?” you laugh but are very confused, neither Will or James mentioned anyone else would be joining. The door opens and you know who it is instantly, it was the smell of Harry's cologne that clued you in  and you suck in a breath. 

 “ ‘ello there Y/N.” he smiles at you “James.” 

“Hey ba-” you stop yourself before the word babe comes out “- Buddy.” yeah that wasn’t awkward at all  “How have you been?” in the last two hours since you had left the apartment. 

“Great how about yourself?” he puts his hand on your shoulder and you release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

“Pretty good.” you smile at him. James starts driving again

“So have the two of you seen each other since you were on my show last?” he asks

“Oh yeah!” you answer, you hate lying and so try to keep as much honesty as possible in your answers, plus no doubt the media has pictures of you guys out together.

“Yeah we are great friends now,” Harry responds “So I guess a thanks is in order.”  James looks like he wants to say more but lets it go and plays one of Harry’s songs. 

“So Harold.”

“Yes James?” 

“Have you heard any of Y/N’s new music?”

“I have and it’s amazing.” he smiles. Ugh that smile, snap out of it and focus Y/n. You can’t slip up.

“Awe thanks Bubba.” Damn it how could you call him that you internally smack yourself, Harry seems to realize and so does James.

“So are we going to acknowledge that?” James asks

“What?” you and Harry say at the same time and play dumb.

“Y/N calling Harry Bubba.” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about James.” Harry says

“Yeah James are you okay I think you are hearing things.” he squints his eyes at you. Thankfully he lets it go and plays another song.

“Well thank you guys for your help getting to work.”

“Oh yeah of course!” you say

“Anytime James.”

You step out of the car and hug James goodbye, you do the same with Harry. Telling both of them you would see them soon, you walk over to your own car to drive back to your apartment where you would meet Harry. 

Once you get home you put back on your ring, your hand had felt empty without it all day. Walking into the bathroom to wash your face someone wraps their arms around your waist and kisses your neck.

“Hey love.” Harry pauses for a second to talk to you and as he speaks your lead him the rest of the way into the bathroom so that you can continue with your plan to wash your face.

“Good job today bubba.” he giggles 

“I can’t believe that you called me bubba on camera.”

“It was an accident, okay. It just came out.” you laugh back and roll your eyes at him you just stand there with his arms around you for a few minutes and then he speaks up 

“I think we should go public soon.” he says and you turn yourself around in his arms

“I agree, do you want to do it before Friday? I feel like once the song is out  everyone is going to know anyway.”

“I have an idea.”  he says and pulls away. You whine from the loss of warmth and follow him back into your living room area. He grabs his phone and points it at you.

“Smile.” He grabs your hand and takes a picture

You get a notification on your phone. You look at it and  

@harrystyles has tagged you in a photo.  Clicking the notification you are taken to his post with the picture he just took.

@harrystyles: Found the love of my life and I can’t wait to marry her. 

You smile and like the photo. Then you go through your phone to find a good picture of the two of you. Once you find one that is one of your favorites you post it tag him and caption it 

@yourinstagram: Surprise? oh and photo creds to the one and only @annetwist 

#harry styles #harry #harry edward styles #James Corden #carpool karaoke #carpool #karaoke #harry styles carpool karaoke #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles headcannon

[ladyloveandjustice]

Fall 2020 Anime Overview

I started out watching the a ton of anime for the Fall 2020 season, but then ended up not being caught up with most of them by the the time the end rolled around. I still pretty much intend to catch up with Yashahime Princess Half Demon someday (I do like the three leads, it just the plot’s been dull as dirt and the fights aren’t very inspired either) and though I dropped Wandering Witch after bad press started rolling in (I CANNOT deal with pointless tragedy in my current state of mind) I might check out a few more episodes someday just to from my own opinion. For now, let’s just quickly review the anime I DID manage to finish on time this season.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle is exactly what it says on the tin: Princess Syalis isn’t too bothered about being captured by demons and locked in their castle, but she does value a good night’s sleep, and she is absolutely ruthless when it comes to getting it- so ruthless, in fact, that the demons realized it might not be that she’s trapped in here with them, but that they’re trapped in here with her.

Sleepy Princess is top tier comedy comfort food. It rarely got a huge belly laugh, but it always but a smile on my face and was a great thing to watch before going to bed. Syalis’s single-minded search for some shut eye is a joke that could have gotten old very quickly, but the show consistently found creative ways to expand on the gags and build it’s world and a fun cast of characters along the way. 

Though Syalis is downright brutal to the demons when it comes to getting what she wants (and has a knack for getting herself killed at well), thanks to a demon cleric that offers easy resurrections, you never feel too bad for anyone involved. In fact, the demons and Syalis form a strangely heartwarming bond over the course of the show , and it’s clear by the end that Syalis definitely has the ability to come and go if she damn well pleases and just finds this castle a fun place where she can find respite from her princessly responsibilities. 

A nice bonus for those of us who like a little subversion is that the show has a lot of fun playing with standard adventure tropes- the demons often lament that Syalis is not at all what they expected from a captive princess, for one, but my favorite fun little twist is how Syalis feels about the hero currently on a (seemingly endless) quest to rescue her- she manages to both hold him in contempt AND consistently fail to remember his name. That level of disregard takes some impressive effort.

The show has the same director as the Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun anime and as such has a similarly nice comic and visual flourishes throughout. It definitely gets two sleepy thumbs up for me.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Jujutsu Kaisen follows a young man named Yuuji Itadori who, after tangling with a demon, ends up with one inside him. With a death sentence hanging over his head, he’s inducted into a school for “jujutsu sorcerers”, and begins training to use his newfound powers to defeat demons and curses.

Jujutsu Kaisen quickly tells you on no uncertain terms it is Action Shonen, introducing a huge cast of a characters and powers and super high stakes and hey there’s even gonna be a tournament arc soon. It is really, really pretty to look at, with a killer opening and ending, some seriously great animation and cool visuals for the fights especially. But is it particularly memorable otherwise? Noooooot really, so far. The sea of technobabble it tends to descend into when trying to explain how the various powers work often has me zoning out and wishing they’d just let me watch the pretty punches. The villains and the general plot isn’t particularly compelling. The characters are nice enough, but haven’t given me much to be attached to so far. Though I do appreciate this one dude who is the embodiment of millennial ennui:

I’ll keep watching though, because it is a visually stunning, action-y thing to my turn your brain off to and god knows I want to turn my brain off all the time lately. 

And the characters do have potential- the One Girl of the main group, Nobara, has a really fun personality in that she’s a total shitlord doofus brawler who can thus doof around with our equally dumbass protagonist, which is an pretty fun, unusual personality for the One Girl to have! Her interactions with Maki, the weapons expert senpai girl, are promising too. I’m just waiting for her to actually, you know, DO something that really shows off her skills- I’m told she DOES eventually get to (gasp) win fights on her own and do cool stuff, but so far show has kind at that of failed miserably and underused her like most action shonen underuse their girls. Plus, taking Yuuji out of the group for such a long stretch seems like a weird choice, we’ve been deprived really seeing him for relationships with his peers. The pacing seems off. But maybe the upcoming tournament arc will make up for that and actually be worthwhile!

Talentless Nana

In a world where kids with superpowers are sent to island schools to fight mysterious “enemies of humanity”, one class of such kids is thrown into chaos when they find themselves targeted by a deadly force.

It’s pretty much impossible to talk about Talentless Nana without discussing how it deviates dramatically from what its premise appears to be in episode one, so I’ll just say if you like stories with superpowers and intrigue, you should definitely sit through that first episode and see if the plot that’s eventually revealed is something that you’re here for. But if you want to avoid spoilers, DON’T GO BELOW THE CUT, because I’m about to get very spoilery.

Basically, Talentless Nana pulls a bait and switch, starting it’s first episode posing as generic superhero anime where the protagonist appears to be your standard meek-but-powerful anime boy (Nanao) who just needs some support and encouragement from a pink haired mind reading manic pixie dream girl (Nana) to unlock his self-confidence and ~true power~ (ugh)...only to take SHARP swerve when  Nana ruthlessly murders Nanao and reveals she’s been sent by the government to take out the superpowered kids one by one because THEY are the considered the true enemies of humanity. Oh, and she doesn’t have any superpowers, or “talents”- she was just able to sus out everything Nanao was thinking through basic deductive reasoning because he was so flippin’ obvious and basic.

As my love for a certain character in a certain game may have clued people into, I am ALWAYS delighted when what appears to be a generic, underwritten girlfriend character is then revealed to be an interesting, ruthless mastermind. And having an anime appear to be about a bland boy with a Dream Girlfriend but then actually turn into a show about a deeply cynical, morally dubious girl who’s clearly holding down a lot of messy feelings as she considers everyone her enemy...well, it may be a cheap trick to some, but it also feels a little bit like justice for all the underwritten female characters sacrificed to bland male leads. It’s still rare enough that I dig it when it happens. And the metatext of Nana zeroing in on this kid as the most standard of main character boys, assessing him as the biggest threat because of it and knowing the perfect way to take him out, is pretty inherently funny to me.

But if the show JUST banked on that twist and was about Nana brutally and cynically slaughtering these kids, it would get boring quickly and Nana would be a bland character herself. Fortunately, it doesn’t go that route. Nana struggles and grows a lot over the course of the show. She finds opposition in transfer student Kyoya, a stoic (and socially awkward) young man who pretty quickly becomes suspicious of her. A lot of the tension from the early episodes comes from her sweating as she tries to outmaneuver him and she makes plenty of mistakes along the way. She also slowly but surely starts to question her mission, and we get an idea of her backstory and how the government specifically has groomed her into believing people with powers to be evil. That belief is one that’s challenged by her friendship with another girl, and it’s pretty rewarding to watch Nana’s feelings and world expand little by little.

The show is definitely a little schlocky-some of the plots (as well as the general premise of the government thinking this is the optimal way to get rid of their superpowered kids problem) fall apart if you think too much about them, and some of the kids Nana goes up against are sleazy and unlikeable in over the top ways (which makes it easy for her to stick to her convictions all these kids deserve to die at first). In particular, I have to give a heads up for some sleazy guys doing and saying sleazy things, though the show never gets too overbearing or graphic with it (and the gore is generally PG-13 level as well). 

Basically. There are some truly ridiculous happenings in this show. But how ridiculous and pulpy and over the top it is can be part of the appeal, and it’s fun to just sit back and watch the spectacle of Nana and her peers head-scratching machinations. 

So, while certainly not an anime with airtight construction or flawless quality and depth, I found Nana an overall entertaining watch, especially as a fan of cat-and-mouse murder-y shenanigans, and thought it has a very compelling main character and managed to end on a heartwrenching (but earned) note. I definitely wouldn’t say no to a second season and would be interested to see where things go from here.

#anime overview #sleepy princess in the demon castle #jujutsu kaisen #talentless nana #munou na nana #maoujo de oyasumi #fall 2020 anime #anime #my reviews

[coffee-imagines]

Behind Closed Doors Pt. 7

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Fred x reader

Warnings: none

A/N: There’s only one more part after this one, so here’s to me actually finishing a series for once in my life. This was also a whole lot longer than I expected. Thank you for 800 followers! I still can’t believe I’m getting so many so fast, this account had only been active for a little over five weeks.

Summary: Your first date with Fred ends up to be a bit messy

———————————–

You’d woken up with Fred’s arms around you like usual, but this morning felt different. Butterflies were filling your stomach from the memories of the day before. Fred’s confession, your confession, your confirmation of a first real date between the both of you that would end your relationship as just friends and turn it into something that was so much more than either of you would’ve thought would ever happen. Fred stirring and pulling you closer into him pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Good morning.” Fred’s groggy morning voice filled your ears making you shudder. You’d heard this almost every morning, but the raspy edge to his voice seemed to hit you harder than it ever had before. You wanted nothing more than to have him on top of you, whispering just about anything into your ears with the particular rasp he held in his voice at the current moment.

“Can’t we stay here for a little while longer.” You bargained, curling into Fred’s touch more than you ever had, wanting to savor your last free day together before the other red headed twin would be joining you along with the rest of the Weasleys later that day.

“We need to have our date before everyone gets back.” Fred explained, his eyes already shutting closed once again, his hand slowly making its way up the back of your shirt to rub small circles into your back, his actions completely unmatching his words. 

“But I’m already really comfortable.” You tried convincing him, nuzzling your head in his neck, hoping the particular fanning of your breath on his neck would convince him to stay in bed.

“Alright maybe just a bit.” He murmured into your hair, slowly falling back to sleep with you curled close to his chest

A bit turned into hours, Fred cursing and rolling out of bed and flinging clothes around while he got dressed. It hadn’t taken long for you to realize that it was in fact about three hours before the rest of the Weasleys would be coming back home, and you followed suit when you too rolled out of bed with the covers following with you, both you and Fred scrambling to get dressed into normal clothes and not your pajamas. As quick as you could you both flew down the stairs in order to reach the kitchen, grabbing anything and everything out of the fridge in order to fill the basket that Fred seemed to have pulled out of nowhere. It was the simplest task that you all had to do. Fill up the basket with whatever food you were going to eat seemed so simple, but it proved to be the exact opposite.

You both tried figuring out just what exactly you were going to eat, and you settled on figuring out the sides, letting Fred worry about the main entre. Although you’d loved his picnic idea, it was in fact his idea after all. You took to mixing a weird concoction that you and the twins found surprisingly delicious while you all were still in the summer going into your third year. It had been deemed the best dip for just about anything you could get your hands on, and you knew it wouldn’t hurt to have something familiar that represented how close you were to the guy standing on the other side of the counter.

“Maybe we should just make the sandwiches outside. I don’t know how you want yours or how many we’re going to want.” Fred explained, finally looking up to you making you nod.

“Is this everything?” You joked, a grunt leaving you when you tried picking up the basket that was heavier than you anticipated.

“I didn’t know what we wanted. More is always better.” He shrugged with an innocent smile, taking the basket from your hands before motioning for you to follow him outside.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You had been far from nervous, you were sure that you’d lose your breakfast if you hadn’t slept through and missed it. With what felt like legs made of jelly you followed close behind Fred, a blanket he’d handed to you being fisted for dear life in your hands. Once you’d both reached the shadiest part of the field you laid out the blanket with Fred’s help, both of you sitting next to each other on the blanket. 

“Can you… can you pass… that.” You stuttered out, deciding to settle on pointing before you made any more of a fool out of yourself. Fred couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face at how flustered you were, your face the darkest shade of red he’d ever seen it.

“You don’t have to be shy Y/N. It’s just us.” Fred assured you, passing over the loaf of bread and a butter knife. “I won’t bite.” He promised when you hesitated to grab the things from him. “Not unless you ask.” He winked, a laugh leaving him when you stared at him in shock, no doubt turning the color of a red crayon right in front of his eyes.

You both continued to make your sandwiches in a comfortable silence, blushing and stuttering out apologies whenever your fingers would brush the other’s hand when you both reached for the same thing without looking. It was surprising to you at how natural it felt to be alone like this with Fred, knowing that you both were considering this to be a date. You were on a date with Fred Weasley, something you would have never thought you could say. It wasn’t long before you felt like you were being watched. Mid bite of your carefully constructed sandwich you looked up to see a googly eyed Fred watching your every move.

“What?” You asked, blushing under Fred’s intense gaze.

“I’m just looking at you.” He smiled, taking a bite of his own sandwich only to make you blush an even deeper shade.

“I guess I’ll just look at you too.” You tried to tease, watching Fred intently while he took another bite.

This turned into a staring contest that you both knew the outcome of. You managed to get through half of your sandwich before you couldn’t take it anymore. You looked away blushing furiously, and all Fred could do was smile and keep watching you. You’d never taken notice, but Fred usually watched you whenever you weren’t looking, admiring all the small things he noticed about you whenever he noticed something new. It hadn’t been until you’d grabbed the dip spoon too fast and flung a big glob on Fred’s shirt.

“Oh Fred. I’m so sorry.” You blushed in embarrassment quickly, grabbing a napkin to clean his shirt. You became even more flustered at how close you were to each other while you dabbed the mustard out of his shirt.

“It’s alright.” He breathed out, distracted by the closeness.

You were a fool to think something like accidentally flinging food at Fred could just get brushed off. You were an even bigger idiot at thinking Fred’s overly nice behavior was the cause of this being a date. You hadn’t been wrong in thinking so, most of it being true, but you should’ve been clued in to his mischievous plans when he offered you a chip with a significantly large amount of dip. He refused to let you grab it, so you reluctantly opened your mouth only for the dip to be smeared across your bottom lip and on your cheek.

“What was that for?!” You laughed, wiping the dip off your face.

“You started it.” He smirked, making your mouth open agape. 

“Oh that’s it!” You exclaimed, your hand proceeding to scoop out as much dip as you could before you flung it at him.

You both stared at each other frozen for a few seconds, looking from the food and back to each other. You quickly scrambled to your feet, grabbing the biggest container of food out of the bunch, Fred doing the same. You had a standoff, wondering who was going to make the first throw, and you couldn’t help the laugh that left you at the dip that was still on Fred’s face. Unlike your staring contest you were determined not to lose. You were lucky to grab the mayo, scooping out globs before flinging them in Fred’s direction. All Fred could throw at you was bread, trying to dodge each glob of mayo you flung at him trying to make his way back to the basket to grab something that was more appropriate to throw at you that could possibly get you as dirty as he had gotten.

You both ran all around the field, unknowing to the amused Weasley’s who were standing by the front door of the borough watching you both run around the field. George was smiling from ear to ear, happy that you would both finally stop complaining to him about liking the other. None of them had the heart to stop your fun, and you wouldn’t have ever heard them anyway, too consumed in your fun that you wouldn’t have heard them. 

Your eyes widened when you’d turned and saw Fred holding the huge pitcher of lemonade that you helped make. He should’ve been walking trying to keep the liquid at bay, but he seemed to have no problem chasing after you, not a single drop spilling out of the pitcher. You felt your legs starting to ache, your chest beginning to burn from the lack of proper oxygen due to all the running. Fred was getting closer to you by the second, and you tried to get your legs to move a bit faster, but they only did the opposite.

“Alright! Alright! Truce!” You begged, holding your hands up in surrender when Fred’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you against him. “You win.” You whispered, staring up at him as your tongue came out to glide across your bottom lip.

Fred leaned down, pulling you in closer when your lips finally met, and your arms came down and around his neck. You’d been dreaming about this for years, and it was even better than you had ever imagined. If it weren’t for Fred’s arm around your waist, you were sure your knees would’ve buckled beneath you. His hand moved from your waist to your cheek, deepening it causing a small hum to come from you. When he pulled away from you, your eyes were still closed, and you leaned forward trying to chase his lips. That had been until you felt your head get drenched from the nearly full pitcher you both had hardly touched.

“Fred Weasley!” You yelled with a laugh, wiping your face clean from the lemonade that was dripping down your face before you took off in the direction he ran toward the house. It wasn’t until you ran straight into his back that you’d seen the Weasley family staring at the two of you with amusement. You were sure you weren’t ready for whatever conversation they were about to have with the two of you.

———————————–

Tag list: Inbox/message me if you’d like to be added (comments sometimes get lost amongst notifications)

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#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #x reader #imagine #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred imagine #fred x reader #fred #fred weasley #weasley #fred weasley imagine series #harry potter imagine series #behind closed doors series #male reader #female reader #not my gif #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw

[buck-nialled]

Anybody - N. Horan Imagine

NOTE: I sincerely appreciate everybody’s patience with me getting to requests. Sometimes its just nice to take a lil break and write a niall amnesia fic, ya know? anyways, here’s another requested imagine (i combined two because they were vv similar), enjoy!

“You’re telling us you’re still single?” The girl scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

It made your cheeks flame up incredibly and your stomach turn in guilt. Normally, this conversation would not have you so antsy or defensive if it had not been for Niall’s presence beside you. The idea to share lunch with the cast one day and have Niall tag along was entirely your idea, so there was nobody else to throw blame on. You were happy Niall agreed almost immediately to your proposal, despite knowing the repercussions if either of you somehow clued that you were together in front of your friends and especially in public.

Your lifestyles were definitely a commonality in your relationship. The constant interviews and public appearances were what led to the two of you introducing one another. You both had a disposition for complimenting people greatly, but had a difficult time taking them to heart. Your first meeting could be illustrated with the two of you gawking over each other’s work and red cheeks, with the subtle flirtatious remark thrown in. But it was the impetus for the exchanging of numbers, and a couple of dinners and intimate nights shared in the bedroom.

More importantly, it led you here at a restaurant surrounded by your costars for one of Niall’s favorite television shows and the man himself. He claimed it to be one of his favorites before he even met you, which you still doubt to be the truth, but you never pushed him for validity. The question from your costar, who could also be considered one of your closest friends, left both you and Niall stunned for a moment.

“Oh, come on. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“You’ve got guys crawling over you all the time.” Another chimes in. You could not argue his point; it happened every time you stumbled across a male fan of the show, over twitter direct messages or blatantly in response to something you posted online. Even during interviews some male hosts would flatter you in the objective to get in your pants, in spite of how clear you made your interests to be platonic.

“So, I can’t be independent and say ‘no’?” You raised your eyebrows, feeling inferior to your colleagues. Unlike them, having a public relationship was off of the table.

“You can. But admit it, you could literallu have anybody, Y/N.” Your friend looks around the table, earning many nods of agreement. You wish every day to wake up and just have the world know your secret. But it did not work like that.

Your publicist immediately refuted the idea of publicly dating when you mentioned your affair with the musician. She went ballistic, claiming you were insane to just post a picture of the two of you to your socials with the mindset of “whatever happens, happens”. It would lead to speculation, which will lead to a closer eye on the two of you and your every move, she argues. Her demands made you want to keep your mouth shut about your fear of being mobbed by cameras off of the red carpet before this conversation. She went on to say the longer you were “available” in the eye of the public, the more popular you would grow. Teenage boys would fawn over you, their girlfriends would google you to see what the hype about you was and hate-stalk you, which would result in a larger following.

Having that disappear all because you were off of the market would make your numbers plummet and lose grip of your male demographic. You were nearly tuning her voice out by this point, until she pointed out that Niall was probably in the same boat. Girl’s loved him; guys were fuming over him. Bigger album sales, followers for days, until the announcement that one of the world’s biggest heartthrobs is officially taken.

You informed Niall about the conversation later that day. And as much as he wanted to say it was bullshit, he could not. It was true. He had attempted many times to present the relationship reveal presentation to his manager and publicist, but both shut him down the moment he began to speak. As of now, both of you were bound by contract to keep your lips shut.

Niall’s aura screamed its independence, so there was no speculation circling him lately about a possible affair. You however, were fresh meat. The new, hottest thing one of few top, trending shows. Everybody wanted to know your whereabouts and who you we’re hanging around with everyday, all day. And it never really seemed to stop.

The night your followers on various media platforms doubled, then tripled, then quadrupled in a matter of hours was when you needed to turn off all receiving notifications. Messages, mentions and questions were flooded to your phone at such a rapid rate that your phone froze. If a photo was even published online of you hugging a man, you would be interrogated about it for the next five interviews following that day.

Recently, the man in question has been your co-star in the series, Ryan. It was clear in the show that your and his character had major chemistry, but outside of the set, Ryan acted like more of a brother figure than anything. He would scare you whenever you turned random corners in the studio, ruffle your hair and bicker with you at any opportunity.

Many gossip news sources were asking both you and your co-star if the relationship between your characters was the same on-screen and off-screen. But it seemed the countless amounts of “no’s” you both delivered immediately after the question was asked was not enough. The other day, a video of him handing you a water bottle with a smile gained thousands of views overnight, as well as theories that you two were hiding a relationship from the public. It could not be further from the truth, but you and Ryan knew it was useless to comment otherwise.

In fact, everybody around you was discouraging the idea to cancel the rumors. All except one person, who always seemed to be cheering you on in your worst moments. And by the eighth week and hundredth photo of you and Ryan allegedly “confirming” your relationship, you had enough.

You stormed into Niall’s apartment with hot feet. You passed by him and paced his kitchen, while he sat up from the couch. Turning down the volume on the golf match playing on the television, he ventures after you and into the kitchen, finding you scavenging his fridge.

“Hang on.” You held up a finger, before retrieving a cold bottle of booze from the fridge. Niall eyes you carefully in your haste to grab the bottle opener already accessible off of his kitchen island and pop the bottle cap off the drink and down half of it. While you guzzle down the drink, Niall gulps, licking his lips.

Chugging a beer, as weird as it sounded, was one of the hottest things Niall had witnessed you do to date.

“Okay,” you slammed the near empty bottle down, taking a deep breath of preparation. “Go ahead.”

“What happened?” He already knew the answer, but it could not hurt to ask. He figured if it bothered you too much to speak about it, you would deny answering. But, considering he was the only person who allowed you to rant to him, you were not going to throw away the opportunity to do so.

“More shit about me and—” That’s the farthest you could let Niall peek at your day before a familiar ringing noise sounds in the kitchen. Niall releases a sigh as you collect your phone from your back pocket, seeing who was calling.

“It’s Ry—”

“Take it. It’s okay.” Niall assures, without you even having to ask. You nod, promising to be quick, though he knew it would be at least twenty minutes before your attentions could turn back to him. That is, if another article was not sent to you about the situation.

“Hey…yeah I saw…” you eye Niall strolling out of the kitchen, his bare back and tense muscles prominent from your view. “Uh huh…” you murmur, before you and Ryan are venting about your day to one another. All of the interrogations at interviews, the photos people had snuck while touring the set, and the trailer for the newest episode that was just dropped. The trailer went viral within two hours because your editors and marketing team decided to include the kissing scene your two character’s shared in that episode along with the montage of other points. By the time you had ended the call, you found Niall showered and lying on his bed. The television in the living room was black, a sign that the golf match ended much earlier.

“Hey…sorry about that.” You mumble, crawling into his bed beside him.

“It’s okay…I assume you don’t want to talk about your day?” He inquires, looking down as you wind an arm over his stomach.

“W-what makes you…”

“I mean, I don’t want you to waste your breath or anything. Judging by the earful you gave Ryan it must’ve been juicy.” Niall remarks through his teeth. 

“I was just—”

“Because why waste your time talking to me about it, right?”

“Niall! Stop!” You yell, allowing a heavy silence to fall in between you two. You take your arm away from his middle and sit up, brows scrunching. “Why are you acting like this?” You ask, tone quieter.

“I…don’t know. I’m sorry, I’m just…I’ve been in my head a lot lately. Thinkin’ about lots of things.” He huffs, turning his gaze down to his legs.

“Like?”

“Like…us.” He answers, face solid.

“What about us?” You hesitate with a trembling voice.

“Well, more like how there isn’t an us.” Niall mumbles, voice gravelly. “To everyone else, anyway.” He breathes, trying a smile but with no avail. The sight delivers a brutal sting to your heart.

“Niall…”

“I know we can’t tell anybody; I know.” He rushes out before you could remind him. “But shit, can we at least act like they do when you’re here?” Your lips part, but fail to generate the right words. “Because right now it kind of seems like I don’t exist when Ryan calls and—and when I ask about your day first but he interrupts, it seems like I can’t get a sound out of you after about it. And damnit, Y/N, I want to hear about it! All of it! And having to listen through the walls just to know you’re okay…”

“Yeah?” You whisper.

“I see what everybody else does. And I don’t like it. Not one bit.” You nod, biting your lip to hold back tears much like Niall was doing judging by his crackling voice. The only reason you really spilled your guts to Ryan was that he was in the same exact position you were in, so he would understand you the most. But that was not entirely true. Because right in front of you sat Niall, who was hiding just as much as you were for the same exact reasons.

“I’m…I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Yeah,” Niall sniffs, “who could blame ya? Ya never have time to ask.”

“And that’s not right.” You shake your head, bringing your body up to straddle his lap. After swinging a bent leg over both of his, and situating yourself over his thighs, you stare into his eyes with a shameful gaze. “It should never be like that. I should tell you about my day, and ask you about yours and…I’m sorry, Niall. I’m so sorry I haven’t.”

“It’s okay—” He tilts his head down, but your hand grabs a hold of his chin scraggly with hair and lifts it back up.

“No, it’s not.” You decree. “To be honest, the reason I never really talk about it is because…I thought it wouldn’t matter to you?” At your admission, Niall’s eyes bulge. The feeling of his warm hands flying to your hips calms both of you to an extent.

“Why would ya think that, love?”

“Wouldn’t you be annoyed hearing me rant about some guy people think I’m dating?” Niall nods his head, understanding your point.

“I suppose…but I’d be angry with you. I’d be on your side.” Niall guarantees with a firm squeeze to your sides. It makes a giggle bubble up from your throat, and a smile crawl up to his lips at the sound of it resounding against his bedroom walls. After bringing his hands in yours and lacing your fingers together, you say, “I’m sure you would. You’d hold me…pleasure me…sing me to sleep.” You smirk, watching Niall grow flush beneath you at his noticeable methods of affection.

“Ryan can’t do any of that.” You bite your lip.

“Damn right he can’t! You’re mine.” Niall looks you up and down, pulling your chest closer to his.

“And I’ll start taking that into consideration more. Now, how about I pleasure you this time to start?” You raise your eyebrows.

“I like the sound of that.” His hand starts to reach up to comb through your hair, but the boisterous rings of your phone interfere once again. Niall heaves a breath and sits back, all while you roll your eyes and reach out for the phone.

“Hey, Ryan.” Niall looks up at you, expecting in less than a second to be off of his lap. But he is rather surprised at the feeling of your hand reaching up to tug the loose sweats down off his waist. “You mind if we talk tomorrow? My boyfriend and I are kind of in the middle of something.” You answer with a smirk, watching Niall’s eyes grow right before you. Ryan’s screams of puzzlement could be heard by Niall as you dragged the phone away from your ear and ended the call. And soon, your grip made its way back to Niall’s boxers with a devious smirk on your lips. 

“Now, where were we?”

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[bloodfromthethorn]

The past is never dead. It’s not even past

Bozer and Riley knew, logically, that Mac and Jack would share some bad memories. They weren't expecting to stumble across one while they were busy planning some R&R over the Pacific Ocean.

Also on AO3 ->

..

Bozer was still getting used to the idea of going on actual, honest-to-god missions for a US government covert agency, but even he had to admit, this one sounded pretty simple. Mac and Jack apparently had some sort of aversion to the word - the instant Riley had said it earlier, the pair of them had looked a heartbeat away from running for the hills - but all of them had had to agree that being tasked to fly to the other side of the world and sit around surveilling a suspected dead drop was about as plain sailing as it was ever going to get. They didn’t even have to confront anyone who approached said dead drop, just record and report it. 

The result was, unsurprisingly, Riley and Bozer planning what they were going to do with the ample free time they were sure to have. Jack had initially made some attempt at reining them in, reminding them that as easy as it may seem, they were going there to do some actual work, but he’d given up some time ago and now seemed content to listen to them plotting in peace. Amused, Mac had just watched the whole conversation play out without a word. 

It wasn’t until Bozer and Riley had spent a solid ten minutes arguing about the possible pros and cons of a natural mud spa that the blonde figured it was time to intervene. “You two know that at most Matty’s going to give us a few hours of R&R before she calls us home. All of this planning is going to go to waste.”

“If that,” Jack put in with only a touch of sullenness. “Remember that time in Trinidad? We didn’t even get a full ten minutes before we had to be back on the plane.”

Mac wrinkled his nose at the memory. His recollection was foggy given that they had more or less crawled back to the landing strip and then passed out the instant they were off the ground, but then, that was really the point Jack was making. “Right? Just saying you shouldn’t get your hopes too high.”

Bozer scowled at them both. “You two have absolutely no faith. I have no idea why Matty thinks all four of us should be on this mission but I for one fully intend to make the most of it. If you want to sit back and be negative, that’s on you.” He let that indictment hang in the air for a minute, then bumped his shoulder against Mac’s. “'Sides, you’re supposed to be helping! You must know all the best sights, right?”

Unexpectedly, that earned him a confused frown. “Should I? Why? I’ve never even been to Fiji.”

Across from them, sprawled out carelessly against his seat, Jack suddenly went rigid. The change was sharp enough that all three of them picked up on it even though the man hadn’t actually moved, staying exactly where he was like a bug under a microscope. Bozer cast a quick glance at Riley but she looked every bit as lost as he did.

Fortunately, Mac was apparently more clued in. “When was I in Fiji, Jack?” He asked quietly, his voice very gentle. 

For a very long moment there was no response. Bozer considered answering the question - he’d asked Mac about tourist attractions in the first place because he remembered Mac had holidayed in the South Pacific with Nikki three summers ago - but he’d gotten the sense that maybe this wasn’t a conversation he should involve himself with. Jack still hadn’t so much as twitched and he could feel Mac tensing up beside him. 

Eventually, Jack answered with a heavy sigh. “July 2015.”

A short pause. “Ah,” Mac said quietly, his eyes darting to an unremarkable spot on the floor for a second before jumping back to Jack. 

The pair of them fell silent, Jack glaring sharply at the ceiling of the plane cabin while Mac watched him steadily. Evidently something significant had just happened, and Bozer had a sneaking suspicion he was at fault for whatever it was, but he didn’t think he could just leave it there. Apparently, neither could Riley. “What happened in July 2015?”

Predictably there was no response, so Bozer offered her the little that he knew. “Mac went on a ‘work trip’,” he said with quotation marks. “I thought he was in Cleveland. Then just when he was due to come home, Nikki called me. Said they were taking a last minute vacation to Fiji and I shouldn’t expect them back for another two weeks. Ended up being gone most of a month.”

At the time, it hadn’t been that weird. Logically he understood that it might sound strange to most people, but Mac had always been a somewhat inconsistent presence in Bozer’s life, even when they were kids. It was just the way he worked: Mac would go where his brain took him and he wouldn’t stop until he’d achieved whatever it was he was hoping to do. In hindsight, that long standing pattern of behaviour must have been a godsend when Mac had joined DXS and Bozer had become part of his cover.

But that was then. Now, he knew the truth of those strangely frequent, unpredictable work trips - except in all the ways that he didn’t. “I take it you weren’t in Fiji,” he asked slowly. 

Mac didn’t look away from where Jack was still frozen. “No.”

“Where were you?”

He hummed. “Not entirely sure, to be honest. I think I wound up somewhere in the Ural mountains.”

Bozer tried to work out the most delicate way of asking further and found none. The deadened tone of Mac’s voice would have made it very clear it wasn’t a happy memory even if the fact that he apparently hadn’t known where he was hadn’t given it away, and his eyes hadn’t drifted from where Jack was looking more and more strained. 

As Bozer floundered, Riley pressed on. “A mission gone bad?”

“In the worst way,” Mac agreed, then seemed to come awake from some reverie. He blinked, and finally looked away from his partner to take the two of them in. Whatever it was he saw on their faces, he visibly made an effort to make himself smile and relax, shaking off the grim set of his shoulders like an unwanted coat. “We were in Minsk, tasked with surveillance on a human trafficker. Turned out that he was more well-connected than we thought, and some of his friends ended up grabbing me out of our hotel room.” His voice faltered ever so slightly and he bit off whatever he was about to say next. 

Bozer did some quick maths and came up feeling ill. “You were gone for a month.”

“I wasn’t with them the whole time,” Mac hurried to reassure, immediately seeing what Boze was getting at. “Jack caught up with me after about ten days.”

“It was too fucking long,” Jack murmured, the first thing he’d said in over a minute. He still hadn’t moved, but he was wearing one of the darkest expressions Bozer had ever seen on his face. “Should have got there sooner. Should never have let them take you in the first place.”

“It wasn’t your fault Jack,” Mac said with the air of someone who had already said it a thousand times, but was willing to repeat it for as long as necessary. “You were on the other side of the city when they found us. We didn’t even know that they knew we were there.” He glanced back at Bozer to explain, “Someone at the CIA leaked information. The target wasn’t supposed to have any idea there were agents in the city, but somehow his guys knew exactly what hotel room to hit. We didn’t get any warning.”

“I knew something was bogus,” Jack said, more to himself than anything. “I said it felt off, and then I fucked off and left you in that hotel on your own.”

“Instinct isn’t everything. We had no reason to suspect the hotel wasn’t safe.”

Jack shook his head sharply and said nothing more. Mac sighed, but didn’t press. 

Thoroughly thrown for a loop and feeling more than a little bit guilty for inadvertently touching on what was so obviously a sore point, Bozer cast a wild-eyed look at Riley. She looked little better than he felt, pale in the harsh white of the plane’s overhead lighting. They’d both known that, in theory, Mac and Jack both had years of service behind them and that those years were likely to be host to any number of bad memories, but to have the knowledge of that so suddenly and specifically confirmed was a lot to take in.

“If you were- there for ten days,” Boze started slowly, half-knowing the answer and needing to hear it anyway, “Why were you gone for so long?”

Mac glanced back down at the floor, looking distinctly uncomfortable before he settled himself. “I was in medical for a bit. Once I could shake the oxygen mask, I moved into Jack’s apartment for a few weeks. I would have been good to come home but there was- bruising.” He fumbled over the last word, waving a distracted hand at his face as though that explained anything. 

For the first time since they’d broached the topic, Jack moved. He jerked to his feet with a strange lurching step, as though he hadn’t expected to do it himself, then marched towards the back of the plane, shaking his head as he went. Bozer caught the tail end of some dark mutters, but he couldn’t make anything out past the stormcloud of Jack’s expression. Startled, Riley shifted forwards to go after him, but Mac just waved her down, watching Jack’s retreating back with a careful eye before turning back to the two of them. 

“He’s okay,” he said, as though that was in any way believable. “It’s not a great memory, for either of us. Despite what it sounds like, he got the worse end of the deal.”

Riley’s eyebrows rose. “You were in captivity for ten days and he had the hard time?”

“I knew he would come after me. He didn’t know what he would find when he got there,” Mac said with a shrug. He’d said it flippantly, like it was some great truth of the universe that was just the Way Things Were. Maybe to him, it was. “Sure, physically I was a mess, but that stuff heals. If I had the choice again, I wouldn’t have switched places with him for anything.”

Bozer was shaking his head slowly, trying to remember details he had brushed off as unimportant years ago. “I remember you coming home. There were bandages on your arm.” A pause, then, accusingly, “You said you got got by a jellyfish.”

Looking down, Mac tugged self-consciously at the cuff of his rolled-up left sleeve, only managing to draw attention to what he was trying to keep hidden. They were faint - so faint as to be almost invisible against his already pale skin - but for the first time Bozer was able to make out a fine tracery of scars marring the skin of his forearm like a spider’s web, twisting all the way from his wrist to beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Jesus, Mac,” Riley breathed. 

“Electrical burns,” he offered as the explanation they wouldn’t have asked for. Catching their thunderstruck looks, he shifted his expression to what he probably imagined was reassuring. “It looks worse than it was, mostly; being shocked hurts like hell but there’s no real permanent damage to worry about. Honestly, most of it was superficial stuff, scarcely a mark left on me. The only reason I was in medical for as long as I was was because they had to drain my lungs and get me on antibiotics in case of infection. Could have been home within a day otherwise.”

Bozer wasn’t entirely sure what it was about Mac that made him think that explanation would do anything at all to allay their concerns, but he didn’t care for it at all. Worse than any of that though was the dawning realisation in the back of his mind that had been growing steadily ever since Mac mentioned moving into Jack’s place. “Except you couldn’t have come home,” he said quietly, needing to hear it for himself. “Because I was there.”

Mac shuffled in his seat, but held his gaze. “A couple of bruises could probably have been explained away, but I was… kind of a mess. Even if you could have believed I got hit by a car or something, all it would have taken was a few screaming nightmares to give me away. No way it wouldn’t have blown my cover.”

He sounded apologetic even as he said it, bracing himself as though he was expecting Bozer to lash out at him for something that had already been long forgiven. Sure, lying to him for years had been a shitty thing to do, but Boze understood why he had done it now, and he knew that Mac had only ever been trying to keep him safe. It might have been the wrong choice, but it was done for all the right reasons. 

“Mac,” he started, uncertain and wounded and so, so guilty, “Mac, you should have been at home. After whatever it was you went though, you should have been able to recover in your own house.”

Mac blinked at him in clear surprise. Did he really not understand? Boze tried again. “I’m guessing that Jack wasn’t the only one dealing with some shit when you got back to LA and I’m not even going to pretend I can imagine what that was like. You should have been able to come home, come back to the place where you felt safe and cared for and-” He sucked in a hard breath. “And you couldn’t, because of me. I chased you out of your own house when you’d been tortured.”

The blonde was already shaking his head, looking stricken. “That wasn’t on you. Boze, that was never on you.” He finally stopped worrying at his sleeve to grip Bozer’s shoulder, tight and grounding. “I was the one who kept the truth from you. I lied to you, for years, and that’s all on me. I know that if you’d known what had happened you would have been there for me and you only weren’t because I didn’t let you.”

He wasn’t wrong and Bozer knew it, but he wasn’t exactly right either. “I get that. But you do know that you shouldn’t have had to make that choice, right? You should have been able to come home Mac.”

Riley was glancing between the two of them looking utterly lost, and Mac was starting to look not much better, so Boze took a slow breath and tried his best to let it go. He had spent years of his life trying to convince Mac that he should rank his own well-being at least somewhere on his list of priorities, and this was really just another piece of that endless puzzle. There would be time to fight that battle later. “I’m just glad you’re okay man. No lasting damage?”

Thankful for the lifeline being offered, Mac dropped his hand away from Bozer’s shoulder and shrugged lightly. “A few scars, but nothing else. Like I said, I had a surprisingly easy time of it in comparison to Jack.” His eyes darted over to where his partner had hunkered down as far from them as he could get. “And speaking of, give me a minute.”

He was on his feet and gone before either of them could even think about trying to stop him, not that they would have done. Bozer had the sense that this was a conversation they had had before, and he knew that Mac would have it handled. If there was anyone who could convince Jack that he hadn’t somehow apocalyptically failed the man he had dedicated his own life to protecting, it would be the man himself. 

“How many stories do you think they have?” Riley asked quietly, soft enough that the others wouldn’t hear her. “All the years they’ve been doing this… How much is there that we don’t know about?”

Bozer thought about the scars on Mac’s arm that he’d never really seen before, about the number of unannounced work trips he had gone on after he came back from Afghanistan. Thought about the number of times he had heard him moving around the house late at night after a nightmare, or worse, the times he’d woken up crying out in panic. He’d known for years that Jack had a protective streak a mile wide and he’d centered it firmly on Mac; before he’d known about the Phoenix, Bozer had always wondered if the man was going overboard. Now, he knew with certainty that he wasn’t. 

When he met her gaze, there were tears in Riley’s eyes. “Too much.”

#MacGyver #mac #jack dalton #angus macgyver #wilt bozer #bozer #riley #riley davis #fanfiction #my fanfic #mention of torture #i don't really know what this is #weird little gremlin inspo that bit me

[eliemo]

The Little Things

Now that they’re getting to know Virgil, welcoming him as family, the other sides begin to notice behavior they hadn’t picked up on before. Patton just wants him to feel safe. 

Words: 3,698

TW: Brief panic attack, Virgil thinks he’s gonna be punished or hurt for a few minutes. Also like one swear word 

They noticed the little things first. 

Logan was likely the first to notice how jumpy Virgil really was now that they were all spending more time together, how sensitive he was to loud noises and sudden movements, but Patton was fairly sure he was the only one to see beyond that. 

It wasn’t hard for Patton to pick up on how quickly Virgil would tense if he thought one of the other sides were in a particularly bad mood, how he would go quiet if someone raised their voice whether it was directed towards him or not, how he would reach for any excuse to retreat to his room if he thought something was wrong. 

It hadn’t been like that before they’d accepted him. He hadn’t been so scared. 

Or maybe...maybe he had, and they just hadn’t bothered to notice. 

Living either in almost total isolation or with the other dark sides his whole life, it was obvious Virgil wasn’t used to their way of life. He wasn’t used to the kindness and understanding they were offering. 

But that was ok. They would help him. He was family now, and he was learning. He was safe. 

But then...then the small hidden things became a bit more obvious, and it was clear this wasn’t just Virgil’s general anxiety. 

It was the ‘mug incident,’ as Patton had internally dubbed it, that had finally clued them in to how bad it really was. 

Roman, as kind and caring as he was, and how hard he tried, was never one to pick up on subtle signs. 

It was mid afternoon, Virgil perched on the armchair while Logan and Patton stood by the TV mulling over movie options, when Roman stormed in from the kitchen, a broken Disney mug in his hand, deep frown etched on his face. 

It wasn’t genuine anger, Patton knew Roman well enough by now to know that. It was just frustration amped up for the sake of dramatics. 

They all should have realized Virgil wouldn’t know to pick up on that yet. 

“Do any of you want to tell me why,” Roman announced, holding the pieces of the mug in the air. “My beloved Disney mug was left destroyed on the counter?” 

Logan turned to face him, unaffected, adjusting his glasses. “I assume because it broke.” 

“Obviously! Which one of you broke it?” 

“I did the dishes this morning, kiddo,” Patton said, smiling sadly at the broken mug. “It wasn’t broken when I saw it.” 

Logan sighed. “I did not go anywhere near your mug today, Roman. Besides, can’t you just fix it on your--” 

“It’s the principle of it!” Roman whirled around to Virgil, who had been silently watching the exchange with wide eyes. “Alright, emo! Confess to your crime!” 

Virgil actually jumped, fingers curling into the cushions of the chair, shoulders curling up to almost reach his ears. Roman was clearly expecting to banter back and forth, and Patton knew that in any other situation that was exactly what he would have gotten. 

“I-I didn’t break it,” Virgil said, stumbling over his words a bit, refusing to look Roman in the eye. “It wasn’t me.” 

Roman groaned and Patton frowned as Virgil went rigid. The creative side didn’t seem to be picking up on anything unusual, and Logan had gone back to flipping through channels. 

“Oh come on, Virgil! Obviously it was you, you’re usually the last one in the kitchen. It’s not even a big deal, why didn’t you just tell me it was broken?” 

Virgil shook his head, curling further into himself like he was hoping for his hoodie to swallow him up, and Patton slowly rose to his feet when he saw something far too close to genuine panic in his eyes. 

“I didn’t break it,” he said again, somehow even quieter than before. “I didn’t...I-I’m not lying, it wasn’t me, I’m...I haven’t been in the kitchen.” 

“But you--” 

“Roman,” Patton said, forcing his tone to stay light. “I was in a hurry this morning, maybe I just left it balancing on the shelf weird. And if not, I’m sure it was just an accident, right?” 

It was a bit too pointed to be taken as entirely casual, and Roman cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly, clearly picking up on Patton’s worry. 

But before Roman could hopefully change the subject, Virgil was speaking again, his voice now shaky and almost...desperate. 

“I didn’t...I didn’t do it, Roman I swear it wasn’t...i-if I had broken it I would have cleaned it up or-or fixed it I promise, I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t have-have left a mess.” 

Roman’s brow furrowed, and he briefly glanced back at Patton and Logan, whose attention had been recaptured by Virgil’s rambling. 

“I...I know,” Roman said carefully. “Virgil, I...I wasn’t gonna--” 

He took a step towards the armchair, freezing when Virgil flinched backwards, eyes impossibly wide and clouded with fear. 

“I-I didn’t break it!” It was louder this time, still small and trembling, staring at the other side like he was wielding a deadly weapon. “I’m not lying I swear I-I didn’t, I…” 

Patton could only stand there, looking helplessly between the two of them, Logan just as lost beside him, while Roman carefully set the mug down and slowly dropped to a crouch in front of the chair. 

“It’s ok, Virgil,” the prince said, soft and slow, and Virgil’s rambling abruptly cut off. “I’m not mad, see? It’s ok.” 

Virgil didn’t relax, didn’t move, just glanced briefly at Patton and Logan before turning back to Roman. “You...you were. You were mad, and you--” 

“I wasn’t,” Roman promised gently. “Even if you did break it--” 

“I didn’t,” Virgil insisted, then stiffened as if just realizing he’d interrupted Roman. But the prince just smiled again, extending an open palm. 

“I know. I believe you. I’m not mad, I was just messing around. I’m so sorry, Virgil. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

It took a moment for anything to change, Patton sending reassuring smiles and Logan quietly counting out a pattern for Virgil to regain control over his breathing. Roman didn’t move, knelt beside the chair with his arm outstretched and waiting. 

When Virgil finally began to relax, his eyes clearing a bit, he let out a shaky sigh and warily took Roman’s hand, still visibly tense like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Kiddo?” Patton called after a moment, taking a careful step forward. “You alright?” 

He saw Virgil nod, swallowing roughly. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Sorry for...sorry about that.” 

Logan frowned, moving to stand beside Patton. “I fail to see what you could have to apologize for, Virgil.” 

Virgil shrugged and rested his chin on his knees, but he still held on to Roman’s hand like a lifeline, and the Prince made no move to pull away. 

“My sincerest apologies,” Roman said. “It wasn’t my intention to scare you. I mean, I’d be a rather lousy excuse for creativity if I couldn’t fix a little broken mug, right? It wouldn’t have been a bother even if you had broken it.” 

It got a small, unsure smile from Virgil, but the anxious side still didn’t look particularly calmed. 

“Besides,” Logan spoke up, something unreadable in his expression. “A broken dish is nothing that should cause you distress. I’m sure you know you can always inform us if an accident happens without consequence.” 

It took a moment for Virgil to answer, hands clutching the cloth of his new hoodie, but he eventually nodded, not looking like he entirely believed what he was being told. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice strained. “Yeah, I just thought...I don’t know. It’s whatever, you guys. I’m fine.” 

They begrudgingly dropped the subject after that, seeing as how keeping the spotlight on Virgil was only succeeding in making him more uneasy, but Patton was sure to make very clear that his door was open if Virgil ever wanted to talk about it. 

It had been a little over a week now, and no one had mentioned the incident again, instead going back to focusing on making sure Virgil felt safe and included like they had since learning his name. 

They were all getting closer, even in the short time since accepting him, and Virgil was visibly relaxing. He was still anxious and withdrawn, but less so everyday. Things were getting better. 

And then…

And then things got worse. 

Virgil was having an off day. They could all see he was a bit extra jumpy and unfocused throughout the day. 

It made sense, Thomas had been particularly stressed and Virgil, as his anxiety, was handling the brunt of it. But he hadn’t locked himself up in his room like he would have done a week prior, and Patton considered that progress.  

Virgil had finally started eating with them regularly as well, more often than not hanging around long enough to help with prep and cleanup. 

The four of them were cooking dinner tonight, careful to keep the atmosphere calm and lighthearted, and Patton wanted to squeal with happiness each time he saw a tentative smile cross Virgil’s face. 

Patton and Logan were handling most of the food while Virgil and Roman washed, dried and put away dishes as they went, the prince humming Disney songs loud enough for everyone to hear. 

It was nice. They were finally a family, just as they should be. 

Honestly, what happened next was entirely Patton’s fault. He hadn’t even been thinking about how the other side might interpret it. 

The kitchen was roomy but it wasn’t huge, and it was a bit crowded with all four of them working in it at the same time. Patton was moving away from checking the stove just as Virgil was moving to put a clean plate away and ended up bumping into his shoulder as he made his way back to Logan. 

It happened so fast, Patton didn’t even get a chance to try and catch the plate as it slipped from Virgil’s hands and hit the ground with a crash, shattering into pieces. 

It wasn’t a big deal. Things broke all the time. In the mindscape, especially with Roman, they could clean it up and snap a new one into existence in moments. For a second, Patton didn’t think anything of it. 

“Whoops,” he said, stepping away from the glass shards. “Sorry about that, kiddo. You ok there?” 

There wasn’t an answer, and when Patton looked up he realized Virgil wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring at Logan. 

Logan, who had turned around at the sound of the noise, knife still in hand from chopping vegetables, watching with a mix of concern and confusion. And Virgil’s expression held more terror than Patton had ever seen. 

“Virgil--” 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he managed, Logan only seemed more confused when Virgil only seemed to focus on him. “I-I didn’t...It was an accident.” 

“We know Virgil,” Logan said carefully, but the reassurance only seemed to panic Virgil more, wide eyes moving now to all three watching sides. “We are not--” 

“Lo,” Patton called softly, heart breaking when he saw where Virgil’s eyes kept landing. “You need to put that down, kiddo.” 

Logan cocked his head slightly, eyes widening when he followed Patton’s gaze to the knife still clutched in his hand. “My apologies, Virgil. I hadn’t realized.” 

And maybe Logan moved a bit too fast, maybe Virgil was too far gone in his panic to hear the apology, but moving to set the knife down on the counter behind him only seemed to break the dam holding back the last of Virgil’s fear. 

He jumped back, Patton wincing in sympathy when his back collided with the edge of the counter, but he didn’t even seem to register the impact. 

“I’m sorry, I-I’m so s-sorry, please, please I-I’ll clean it up! I’ll clean it up right now y-you don’t have to be mad I won’t...please, I can fix it, I can--” 

Patton would hate himself for it later, but in his desperation Virgil was lowering himself towards the broken glass, eyes never leaving Logan, moving like he was going to grab the shards with his bare hands, and parental instinct took over. 

“No!” Patton hurried forwards to stop him, and while he did get Virgil away from the glass, the outburst and sudden movements were definitely not what Virgil needed. 

The anxious side’s eyes filled with tears as he scrambled as far back as he could get, breathing quick and erratic, words coming out in frantic gasps. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to...I’m so sorry I just thought--” 

“No, no it’s ok!” Patton’s vision was beginning to go blurry with his own tears. “I just didn’t want you to get cut on the glass!” 

But Virgil wasn’t listening, pressed up against the wall, hands moving to protect his face like he expected someone to hurt him. 

It was so much different from the Virgil they’d gotten to know, scared and anxious sometimes but refusing to let himself fall apart in front of anyone, always holding himself to some standard of composure. 

Roman was clutching Patton’s arm, keeping him from rushing forward again, the prince pale and frozen. Logan had set the knife down, clearly doing all he could to compose himself and understand the situation. 

“Virgil,” the logical side said after a moment, more hesitant than Patton had ever heard him. “It was just an accident. Nobody is going to be upset with you. And I assure you, nobody here would ever have any intention of causing you harm.” 

“Of course not,” Roman said, Patton quickly agreeing. “What on earth made you so frightened, Stormcloud?” 

Virgil didn’t answer, gaze still jumping from one side to another, tense and trembling as he seemed to struggle to understand what was being said to him. 

“I...I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. It seemed to be his go-to phrase tonight. “I didn’t m-mean to ruin things.” 

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton said, still unable to move forward, furiously wiping tears from his cheeks. “You didn’t ruin anything. I promise.” 

“I…I’m s...I’m sorry.” 

“Perhaps,” Logan said suddenly. “It would be of benefit to you to discuss this outside the kitchen. Do you require assistance getting to the living room?” 

Virgil was still trembling, curled into a ball, eyes red and jaw clenched tight. “I...I think so. Sorry, I just--” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, kiddo.” Patton glanced at the glass scattered across the floor, then at Roman, the only side still wearing shoes. “Will you--?” 

“I’ve got him.” 

It took a minute, Patton moving to stand by Logan while Roman carefully made his way to Virgil’s side like he was approaching a wounded animal. 

Patton didn’t miss how badly Virgil flinched when Roman lowered himself to the floor, how tense he went when the prince made a move to touch his arm. 

“I won’t hurt you,” Roman said softly. “You have my word. Can I carry you to the couch, please?” 

Virgil nodded, hesitant, and Patton’s heart broke at the quiet whimper that escaped when Roman carefully lifted him bridal style from the kitchen floor. 

“You’re alright,” Princey promised, sending a worried glance over his shoulder as Logan turned off the stove. “You’re safe, you’re ok. We’re almost there.” 

They made it to the couch quickly, Patton and Logan following closely behind, the three of them allowing Virgil his own space as soon as he was set down on the cushion. 

He instantly took advantage of it, pressing himself as far back as he could, knees pulled up to his chest, refusing to look any of them in the eye. 

Logan was seated on the coffee table across from him, Patton carefully lowering himself onto the opposite end of the couch, Roman perched beside him on the arm. 

Logan cleared his throat, hands folded in his lap. “Virgil--” 

“I-I don’t know,” Virgil said, still horribly small and shaky. “I’m sorry I just...thought y-you would all be angry with me. Again. If I...I-if I messed up and then I did and I thought...I thought--”

“Nobody’s angry,” Patton said. “Never over something like this Virge. And even if we were...you don’t ever need to be afraid of us.” 

Virgil hunched his shoulders, staring resolutely down at his lap. “I’m sorry. I should have...I’m sorry.” 

“It’s ok, we--” 

“I just-” Virgil took a breath, knuckles turning white in his grip, the three sides falling silent as they waited, hoping silently. “I just don’t...I don’t want to leave.” 

Logan tilted his head, confused, looking to the others who were equally perplexed. “Leave...where? We of course would never force you to go to your room if you’d prefer company.” 

Virgil shook his head, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, and Patton’s chest clenched in sympathy as he watched him fight to get his thoughts together. 

“I mean I don’t...want to go back. This has all been really great. You’ve...you guys have been really great. And I know you-you didn’t really like me before and now that you know you n-need-need me you could...you could do whatever you want to me if I f-fuck up or...or make me leave and I don’t want to...to lose this.” 

“Oh, baby…” Patton scooted forward, unsure how to respond, feeling his heart break in two. “Can I...Virgil, can I hug you?” 

Virgil’s gaze shot up from his lap, shocked, but he nodded and let Patton wrap his arms around him, cringing at how badly he was shaking beneath his hoodie, pulling him against his chest. 

The anxious side’s breath hitched, and Patton just held him tighter as he finally dissolved into sobs, clutching at Patton’s shirt like he thought he would be ripped away at any second. 

Like Patton would ever let him go. 

“It’s ok, kiddo,” he promised. “It’s alright. You’re family now, remember? Nothing’s gonna happen to you.” 

“Indeed.” At some point, Logan had gotten up from the coffee table to sit beside them, carefully putting a comforting hand on Virgil’s back. “Even if we were angry over something, it would be an issue we could easily work out. Together. You never need to be afraid of losing us.” 

The logical side began to rub soothing circles along Virgil’s hoodie, a clear attempt to help him settle down, while Roman cautiously scooted forward and placed his palm over Virgil’s hand, Patton still holding on tight. 

“You’re one of us now,” Princey said. “Which means I am sworn to protect you! As long as I live and breathe, you’ll never be alone again! No harm shall ever--” 

“Alright, Roman,” Patton said, gazing fondly at a now smiling Virgil. “I think he gets it.” 

Virgil gave a small nod, pulling back slightly from Patton’s embrace, breaths still tiny, hiccuping sobs. “Yeah. Uh, thanks, you guys for...yeah. Thank you.” 

“No need to thank us for stating the truth,” Logan said. “However, based on your reaction tonight, and the fact that this is not the first time something like this has happened, the logical conclusion is that this mindset is not a new occurrence. Am I correct?” 

Patton thought about the broken mug, how terrified Virgil had looked when he’d thought they were upset with him, how he’d practically begged Roman to believe him when the prince had advanced. He thought about how tense Virgil would get whenever someone would raise their voice. 

It was becoming more and more of a struggle not to start crying again. 

“I guess so,” Virgil murmured, cheeks flushed red. “I mean, I’m literally Anxiety. I’ve had some, uh, bad experiences, I guess.” 

“Kiddo--” 

“No, no it’s fine!” Patton didn’t miss how tightly Virgil was squeezing Roman’s hand now. “It’s my fault, it’s...I should have said something. I should’ve...warned you guys, and I’m r-really sorry.” 

Roman leaned forward, brow pinched. “Warned us?” 

“About all of this,” Virgil said, like it was something obvious. “I’m not...easy to deal with. You guys know that already but it’s not just my function, it’s...it’s just me. I’m difficult and I-I don’t know how to fix it and I’m really s--” 

“But we don’t want you to fix it,” Patton exclaimed before Virgil could apologize again. “We care about you, kiddo! Everyone’s gonna have flaws and setbacks. All of us, but that’s why you have family!” 

“We do want you to feel safe here,” Logan added. “We’re all willing to assist you in feeling more comfortable. But we have no desire to change or fix you. I for one, have quite enjoyed getting to know you properly.” 

Patton and Logan agreed without hesitation, beaming when Virgil hesitantly met each of their gazes. He looked like he was seconds away from bursting into tears again, but this time it would be from something much different than fear and devastation. 

“Oh,” he said, small but hopeful. “I...ok. Uh, same. To the...to the getting to know you guys thing. It’s been...it’s been really good.” 

Patton smiled, giving Virgil one last squeeze before scooting back, clapping his hands together. 

“I’m glad, kiddo,” he said. “You still up for dinner? Logan might even let us have ice cream for dessert!” 

“Uh, yeah,” Virgil managed, Roman leading him to his feet while Logan rolled his eyes with a fond smile. “I-I’m good.” 

“Excellent!” Roman was already making his way back to the kitchen. “I’ll clean up the glass and then we can continue!” 

“I can help if you--”

“Nonsense!” Roman disappeared  around the corner, already belting another Disney song, and Patton carefully took Virgil’s hands in his. 

He was still a bit wary, but Patton could practically see him fighting against it, battling every instinct screaming at him to pull away, isolate himself out of self defense. 

But he was still here. Still learning to love. 

Patton couldn’t be more proud. 

“Come on,” he said, pulling him towards the stairs. “No bare feet tonight, just to be safe. Don’t worry, I’ll let you borrow some of my fuzzy socks.” 

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders side fic #fanfiction #virgil #virgil sanders #patton #patton sanders #roman #roman sanders #logan #logan sanders #writing #hurt/comfort #implied abuse #kinda #nobody is meant to be unsympathetic here #but can be interpreted as unsympathetic dark sides #family #found family #prinxiety #analogical #moxiety #polysanders

[sociallyawkwardfoxwriter]

I'm surprised nobody has thrown this idea at you yet... Empire Sibs being disasters and talking about their crushes like it's a 80/90's movie sleepover. Or complain about all the attempts they've tried and failed in an effort to get a date, before deciding they'll help each other. (And try and fail. Or maybe succeed!)

The Empire Sibs are absolute disasters and I love them for it! I believe I have hit the major 80/90′s movie sleepover requirements: talk of crushes, comfort food and a John Hughes movie. 

Hope you enjoy!

"Can you pass me the other one?" After a moment of considering the ramifications of ignoring Beau, he leaned forward to grab the bag of chocolate off the table and threw it at her. "Dick."

"It's not fair how attractive they are."

"Did you see the picture?"

"They look like the perfect couple."

"Don't remind me."

"At least you still have Yasha. She can hold you in her strong arms and comfort you."

"She probably thinks I'm an idiot now. I couldn't string two words together when I tried to ask Jester out."

Caleb snorted as he shoveled ice cream into his mouth. "She will understand. You will tell her how badly it went and she'll tell you she wouldn't have done any better and you shouldn't worry about it because she's not even available. She's dating a handsome man that's smart and kind and strong."

"Fjord is a dumbass."

"Not all the time. We've had several conversations about magic that I could never have with a complete dumbass."

"He is whenever we hang out."

"That's because when the two of you get together there suddenly becomes only one brain cell between the two of you. I thought I would have to drive you both to the hospital the last time you got drunk together."

"Yeah, that was a good night." The thunk of Beau's phone falling against her chest as she let out a groan and pushed her head back against the arm of the couch covered the sound of Molly Ringwald in the background. "They really do look perfect together. I'm sure she brings him home to her mom and Marion just loves him and thinks he's perfect for her."

"What parent wouldn't?"

"The weird thing is I could have sworn that Fjord was interested in you. He asks about you all the time. I swear the first thing out of his mouth whenever I see him is a question about how you're doing or what you've been up to. If you didn't ask him out, I would have told him to hurry up and do it."

"Luckily, I never had a chance in the first place because I already made a fool out of myself enough as it is and it would have felt worse if I actually had a chance of him saying yes."

"Fjord probably has no idea you even tried."

With a sigh, Caleb pressed the heart on Jester's most recent photo of Fjord leaning against a railing with a beer in hand and his dark hair billowing in the wind. "Hopefully. I would hate for our friendship to be awkward because I tries to ask out someone that's already in a happy relationship."

"We can find you someone else! What about that hot guy that always stops by the library to talk to you about magic? He's definitely interested in you."

"The only thing I know about him is that he has an interest in magic. That's not a good basis for a relationship."

"That's what dating is for. You get to know someone and figure out where you're interested in having something deeper."

"I just..."

"Yeah, I know. Instead of a date, it could be two friends trying to get to know each other better. I could come with you if it would make you feel more comfortable."

"I'll think about it."

"Okay."

After tossing the bag of chocolates back on the table, Beau moved from her position leaning against the side of the couch to sprawling out on top of him. It only took a few elbows to his ribs for Beau to find a comfortable position with the side of her face smashed against his chest. While it wasn't the best position for him, he simply wrapped an arm around her waist and turned his head to watch the movie.

They were only a few minutes into returning their attention to The Breakfast Club when Beau's phone vibrated against his chest. Her surprised gasp was followed by Beau scrambling to sit up with her fingers typing rapidly against the screen. As he struggled to get his air back in his lungs, Caleb pushed up to peek over Beau's shoulder at her phone. She quickly pulled her phone away and held up a hand to stop him.

"What is it?"

Beau took her time to finish what she was doing, then put her phone down and looked him straight in the eye. "Jessie just texted me to ask if you were interested in Fjord because he wants to ask you out, but he's too nervous to do it."

"I... What?"

"We are getting you a boyfriend."

"But Fjord..." While she could have stopped him, Beau let him snatch her phone and look at the series of texts between Jester and Beau. "What am I supposed to do? I made an idiot of myself. I'll do the same thing if he tries to do something."

"All you need to do is agree when he asks."

"Right, but what about you?"

"I'm not interested in Fjord."

He smacked her lightly on the arm with her phone, then handed it over to her. "This means he's not dating Jester, which means you still have a chance. We need to figure out how you're going to ask her out."

"One step at a time. First, we get you in a situation for Fjord to ask you on a date, then we figure out how I ask out Jester."

"Is she going to help with that?"

"Of course. Someone has to be responsible for wrangling Fjord. Let us worry about the details. You just make sure to say yes when he asks."

"I can do that."

While Beau went back to typing away on her phone, Caleb turned his attention to the television to distract him from the emotions welling up in his chest. The teens dancing on the screen were enough to prevent his mind and heart from going a million miles an hour. That didn't stop him from picking nervously at the hem of his pants and shuffling every few seconds in his sleep. When the urge to steal a glance at Beau grew too strong, he reached forward to grab a bag of gummy bears and focused on picking out his favorite flavors.

"Put on the dark purple cardigan that Fjord loves on you. He's about to pull a Say Anything on you."

"What?"

"Cardigan, now. Let's go!"

When Beau forced him off the couch, Caleb barely managed to not completely lose his balance. "This is not how I expected this evening to go. I bought five gallons of ice cream."

"Now, we'll be eating it to celebrate."

"After we figure out how you'll ask Jester out."

"While we figure out how I'll ask Jester out. You, me and your boyfriend."

#anon #critical role #empire kids #empire siblings #widofjord #beauyaster #beauregard lionett #caleb widogast #platonic relationships #cuddling #comfort #prompt fill #fanfic

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Danny Phantom - Transparent

Author Comments: Ha, and you all thought you were rid of me, didn’t you? Too bad for you I’m still here and back with some more stories! This is one of my commissions I finished recently and, god willing, there’s more where this came from!

Summary: Ghostwriter, also known as Andrew Riter, has had a long and difficult life, and a rather difficult afterlife, too. So, when his boyfriend, Danny Fenton/Phantom, starts acting oddly, it’s clear that there’s only one answer as to the cause. Danny was going to betray him to his ghost-hunting parents — now if only he could convince his brother of the matter. 

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Relationship: Ghostwriter | Andrew Riter/Danny Fenton/Phantom

Characters: Ghostwriter | Andrew Riter, Dannny Fenton/Phantom, Randy Riter (Ghostwriter’s Brother)

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 3,622

Transaction Amount: $20 

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                                    Read the story on AO3!

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Typically, considering the rather complicated lives as religion-obsessed assassins they had led when they were, well, alive, Andrew’s brother was rather good about believing him when Andrew suspected someone of showing signs of betrayal. This time, however, Randy looked less amused and more disappointed, arms crossed as he sighed and spoke a vaguely annoyed, “Have you been working on your murder mystery books again?”

“Randy.” Andrew Riter, better known to some as the Ghostwriter, liked to believe that he was a rather logical person. With the fact that he was one of the few ghosts in the Ghost Zone who wasn’t absolutely insane or obsessed with world domination, he had a much firmer grasp on reality and those around him. As such, he knew when he was being paranoid versus when something actually concerning was taking place. “We’ve been betrayed before and I’m telling you that all of the signs are there-!”

Randy held up a hand to stop him, looking even more disappointed than he had even just a minute ago. It was almost impressive and Andrew hated how he immediately snapped his mouth shut, Randy nodding before continuing with a firm, “Your boyfriend is not plotting to betray you.”

“But he could be!” Andrew burst out, throwing his arms up into the air. “It would be perfect, too, because no one would ever expect the hero Danny Phantom to betray his partner!” It all made sense and the plot was laid out in front of him like a glaringly bright yellow brick road. 

“Andrew,” Randy groaned, moving to collapse against a plush, overstuffed couch that Andrew was particularly fond of. There was a reason he kept that couch in his study, after all, which was where he had hidden himself until he could parse out Danny’s true intentions. “Danny couldn’t even lie to you when he was trying to surprise you for his birthday.”

“Which would make his betrayal all the more possible!” Andrew shot back, mind whirling with snippets of conversations and interactions as he paced his study. “He always has to be home on Saturday mornings and when I asked why he looked away and nervously lied about how it was a medical thing-”

“What makes you think that was a lie?” Randy was all but ignoring him, flipping through one of Andrew’s manuscripts that he had thrown towards the couch in a fit of rage. Andrew felt no qualms in picking up a rather large thesaurus and throwing it at Randy, pleased at the following yelp of pain. “Hey!”

Andrew went back to his pacing, ignoring the swears aimed his way as he thought over the other day’s questioning about why Danny always had to be home at the same time on Saturday mornings of all things. Danny had been so nervous, avoiding eye contact and shuffling his weight around and even going so far as to flinch when Andrew had raised a hand to gently rub his shoulder. It was clear to see that Danny knew Andrew was clued in on his future betrayal. 

Catching the book he saw flying at him out of the corner of his eye, Andrew looked to Randy, an annoyed expression showing that he had clearly said something that Andrew hadn’t heard. Andrew decided to respond with a simple, “You’re wrong.”

“You have no idea what I said, do you?” Randy scoffed, Andrew only smirking because replying like that meant Randy knew he was wrong in whatever he had said so ha. “Okay, so the medical thing is a bit weird, but maybe it’s just something he has to do that he’s embarrassed about. That doesn’t mean he’s betraying you.”

“It also doesn’t mean that he’s not not betraying me,” Andrew snapped out, pausing and wrinkling his nose because, hm, that had not felt like good sentence structure. There had to be a better way to word that thought. Perhaps- “Ow.”

Rubbing his now sore head, Andrew glared at Randy, who smirked because he was stupid and had stupid perfect aim and Andrew didn’t care what he said being hit in the back of the head with a pen hurt. Andrew made a mental reminder to make him suffer later, continuing his point instead with a firm, “It makes sense.”

“Fine. Let’s indulge your paranoia for a few minutes here.” Randy sat up as Andrew fought off the urge to insist that it wasn’t paranoia. “Who exactly would Danny betray you too?” Ah, well, that… was a question, certainly. “Seriously?”

“Well excuse me for being more worried about the actual betrayal aspect of this plot!” Andrew snapped back, crossing his arms and looking down at aged, ruffled carpet. “The Observants-”

“They hate me and Danny way more than they hate you,” Randy interrupted with a scoff, which… was true; as much as Andrew hated to admit it. He was just waiting on the day when Randy was kidnapped by the one-eyed cretins. “Try again.”

Andrew chewed on the inside of his cheek, mentally paging through the ghosts and humans that they both knew. “Guys-in-White?” Before Randy could throw something at him again, Andrew shook his own head, “Mm, no.” Danny hated the Guys-in-White more than any other ghost he knew. Plus, it would be embarrassing to be handed over to them. “He would at least have the good sense to give me to his parents, first-”

Snapping his mouth shut, Andrew stared at the ground because that was it. The thread of the plot that had just been out-of-sight. Danny’s parents; the ghost hunters. It made perfect sense. Danny had yet to tell the two of his ghostly nature, but he had been hinting towards it. What better way to get in their good graces than to offer up an actual ghost? 

Andrew looked to Randy, who immediately shook his head, “No- No, no, no, he is not planning on offering you up to his parents-”

“It makes sense.” It was the perfect plan — the perfect story. Danny Fenton, the boy cursed with ghost powers with ghost hunters as parents. What better way to earn forgiveness and respect than to give them that which they had been so desperately hunting over the years? It lined up into clean, crisp arcs: the meeting, the fall, the betrayal, the end. 

Feeling the thrum under his skin of danger, Andrew turned to start pacing again, instead running right into Randy’s chest. His brother caught him by his shoulders, stilling him and holding him in place while looking at him with an expression that was equal parts annoyed and concerned, “What manuscript are you working on right now?”

Ah, now, this is where Randy would dismiss all his worries and say he was paranoid because he had spent too long in one genre. Andrew, though, knew how to get around this. “I’m afraid it doesn’t have a name at the moment-”

“Andrew.” Damn Randy and his knowledge of Andrew’s small quirks and oddities. 

“A Crimson Dinner,” Andrew muttered reluctantly, trying not to wince at Randy’s glaring look. “So what if I have been working on murder mysteries again! That doesn’t explain Danny’s odd behavior!” 

“Jesus,” Randy groaned, Andrew hating how he had the instinctive urge, even after so long, to scold him for taking the Lord’s name in vain. Hm, maybe he had been working on his latest manuscript for a touch too long. “Andy. That kid fucking loves you. He is not going to betray you to his parents — who are not that good at being ghost hunters, by the way.” 

Andrew read the concern buried in Randy's voice and the way his hands tightened on his shoulders in clear worry. What was even clearer was the plea in his eyes to just drop the matter. If this had been another time Andrew would have nodded and agreed that he was being paranoid. He would have lied to Randy’s face and felt no remorse. 

As it was now, though, Andrew only continued with a firm, unyielding, “But what if-” Randy’s groan was unappreciated, but he at least wasn’t flying away from him in a fit of rage.

Which was excellent. Andrew needed a sounding board so he could begin crafting a plan to deal with his boyfriend’s future betrayal.

⁂

“You’re being weird.” Blinking at the half-ghost that was sitting in his lap and staring at him with amused suspicion, Andrew decided to respond by innocently tilting his head. “Don’t play cute with me. I know you know what I mean.” 

“Haven’t the faintest,” Andrew denied, shivering as Danny’s palms, cool and soft, rubbed against the stubble dotted across his cheeks as the younger leaned closer. “No idea at all.”

“None whatsoever, huh?” Danny raised an eyebrow, those palms still cool against him as he gently nudged Andrew closer to him, pressing a sweet, soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “Not even a bit of an idea?” 

“None whatsoever,” Andrew repeated distractedly, unable to help his frown when Danny pouted and ‘collapsed’ against his chest. Honestly, this one was bad for his heart in far too many ways. “Why do you think I’m acting suspicious?” 

“I didn’t say suspicious,” Danny snorted, looking up at him with a look torn between annoyance and amusement. It was such a sweet look, and Andrew almost didn’t even feel all that bad that it would be Danny to betray him. “I said you’re being weird. You’re acting all… observant-y.” 

Andrew knew Danny no doubt meant that Andrew had been keeping a much more careful eye on him over the past couple of days, but he couldn’t help his immediate response of, “There’s no need for insults, mon cher.” 

The confusion fading into startled laughter was worth the pang of knowing this would, one day, come to an end. Besides, it was hard to feel too upset when Danny was so sweet about the way he earned his trust, cuddling closer to him and giving him soft kisses and teasing him gently and warmly. Really… if this was to be his final hell, it wasn’t one Andrew was all that keen about fighting against. 

“Don’t think I’m dropping this,” Danny managed to mutter between kisses, seemingly as distracted as Andrew was becoming. “You’re still acting weird — and that’s coming from the teenage half-ghost superhero.” 

Andrew scoffed, rolling his eyes as Danny curled back up against his chest, near hiding against him, “And here, I believe, is where I say something about the pot calling the kettle black?” Danny stuck his tongue out, Andrew clucking his own in response. “Maybe I’m just busy trying to uncover all of your secrets.”

It was a tease as much as it was a test, but it hurt more than Andrew would have thought when he felt Danny jolt against him, sudden and sharp as a swirl of fear flashed across his eyes. Danny’s words tumbled together and fell out of him a rush, a half-panicked, “Looks like you caught me. I did steal Sam’s nail polish in seventh grade.”

“I knew it,” Andrew said seriously, responding just how was expected of him. He might have been tempted to put more humor into the situation if it didn’t feel like his chest was aching with the realization that he had been right. Yes… he supposed he really had known it. “Danny…”

Danny, nervously shifting and adjusting to where he was once again sitting beside him rather than straight in his lap, paused to give him a look that was just as nervous, “Yeah?”

“I…” He what? He knew that Danny was going to betray him to his parents? He was fully aware that Danny was keeping something from him and had no intention of telling him? He still loved Danny even though he knew what was going to happen? 

A million words floated through his head, Andrew trying them all out silently one after the other. I love you. No. This wasn’t the time even if it was true. I know what you’re going to do. No, no, no, that sounded far too accusatory. Andrew didn’t want to start a fight with Danny when it felt like he was trying to claw his heart back together as it was. Why did it have to come to this? Don’t you love me? Did I do something wrong? What did I miss? Please, don’t do this- 

“Andrew?” Danny’s quiet voice broke up his thoughts, a cool hand cupping his cheek as eyes looked at him with a potent mixture of worry and concern. It was the barest edges of caution that had him near recoiling, though. “Are you-”

“I’m not blind.” It was nowhere near what he wanted to say exactly, but it was at least a somewhat subtle start. “You… You do know I’m not blind, don’t you?” He had to have known that Andrew was fully aware of what was about to happen. Right? 

“I- Yeah, of course- I mean-! Yeah! I know that!” That caution spiraled out into panic and fear, Danny quickly standing up. “Right, well, uh, I’m gonna go, you know- Kitchen. Food, and everything- Yeah.” Danny was rushing away towards another part of Andrew’s lair before Andrew himself could even offer a response. 

His only saving grace — and oh how far he had fallen to even so much as think that — was Randy entering the room with a low whistle only seconds after Danny had truly left. Andrew didn't know if the man was just that good at sniffing out drama or if he had felt Andrew’s turbulent emotions. 

“Accuse him of his ultimate betrayal of your love and shit that soon? Thought you would have held it in for at least another week or two.” If this were even earlier that day, Andrew would have been tempted to roll his eyes and toss a book at his brother. As it was, Andrew just stared in the direction Danny had taken off towards; the opposite direction of the kitchen. “Hey, this is the part where you give me your hundred page thesis on all of your paranoid-”

“He flinched.” Andrew’s words were quiet, soft enough that they could have been easily talked over. Randy fell silent, instead, and didn’t that just tell Andrew everything he already knew? “We were just… talking. He noticed how I’ve been acting odd, and I teased that I was ‘trying to uncover all of his secrets.’’

Andrew looked to Randy, hating how everything in him felt like begging for advice and support and he didn’t want to lose this. “He flinched.” Danny shouldn’t have flinched- Andrew knew all his secrets; or at least, he thought he had.

“Andy…” Randy trailed off, not saying anything else. When it looked like he was about to try to speak, Andrew simply shook his head. He didn’t need advice. 

Not when the matter would be dealt with soon enough — one way or another. 

⁂

In truth, after his discussion with Randy, Andrew had been prepared to wait months or even years for Danny’s betrayal. The both of them were patient when it came to important matters and Danny was far cleverer than people gave him credit for. He also didn’t like to lose. With that in mind, Andrew had been prepared to wait. 

He hadn’t expected, three days later, to be wincing at Danny’s cold, aching tone when he snapped out a harsh, “Fine. You figured it out. Proud of yourself?!” Shoved into a corner of the couch and curled up and glaring at him, Danny showed every sign of an injured wild animal. It was harder than Andrew would have thought to fight back the urge to try and comfort the teen and talk him down. 

Instead, he busied himself with the thought of wondering how Danny had known that he had figured it out. Andrew opened his mouth to ask that, or maybe deny he even knew, but Danny beat him there with a cold, bitter laugh, “Please. You’ve been acting weird for days, ever since-” Since that joke about ‘secrets.’ “You barely look at me, you’ve been avoiding spending time with me, you haven’t touched me once-”

Danny cut himself off with a jagged sound that had very clearly been a suppressed whine and Andrew hated how much it hurt. He couldn’t stop himself from responding with a quiet, “Danny…” 

“I just- I thought with you it would be different.” Danny’s voice cracked and the sound made Andrew want to release a whine of his own. “I didn’t think-! It wasn’t supposed to go like this!” Danny had his arms wrapped tight around his chest, curled up even more as the desperate, broken expression on his face snapped into one of rage, green eyes blazing with anger.

Unsurprisingly, it was the anger that had Andrew responding, a spark of defiance blazing through him because how dare he-! “You thought I would simply be fine with you betraying me by offering me up to your parents on a silver platter as some- Some gift-” 

“What?” Danny’s tone, loud and sudden and confused, had Andrew snapping his mouth shut. Danny no longer looked angry and hurt and cornered, instead he simply stared at Andrew, blinking slowly. “Hang on… Hang on- Andy, what do you mean when you say I’m ‘betraying you?’” There was confusion and caution and… hope?

It was the hope that caught Andrew off guard, all of his meticulous notes about how odd Danny had been acting as proof of his upcoming betrayal disappearing. Instead he could only stare before managing a weak, “You’re… going to betray me and offer me up to your parents as a peace offering? A ghost they can study before revealing your own ghostly nature to them?”

The laugh, wild and sharp and sudden and relieved, was not something Andrew had expected from Danny. Nor had he expected the rushed out, blurted words of, “I’m trans.” Andrew simply… stared. He had expected betrayal, and heartache, and the bitter reminder that humanity and the dead could never truly be, but he had not expected… that. Danny seemed to realize as such, all of his fear and worry and anger seeming to vanish as a smile reappeared. “You know. Transgender?”

“I- Yes.” Trans. Danny was transgender. “I’m aware of what trans means.” He knew what it meant, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t surprised because he hadn’t… been expecting that. “I… Well. I suppose that does rather make more sense than you betraying me to your parents, doesn’t it?”

Andrew barely took a seat on the couch before he had Danny in his lap, Andrew’s hands snapping out to steady him before he was very quickly distracted by lips pressed against his own. When Danny finally pulled back, it was to more laughter muffled against his cheek as the other buried his way against him, “I can’t believe- Out of every possible sign you thought-!”

“Yes, thank you!” Andrew interrupted, refusing to focus on the warmth he could feel in his cheeks. Ghosts may have been dead, but they could still flush in embarrassment, apparently. “It made a remarkable amount of sense at the time.” Ah… Randy was never going to let him live this down once he found out.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Danny said seriously, leaning back to cup Andrew’s cheeks with his hands, pressing just enough to squish them and make Andrew try to squirm away. Danny, the brat, didn’t let him. “It makes perfect sense that, instead of believing I’m trans, you believe that I’m going to betray you to my parents.”

“That’s not-!” Ah, but that was exactly what Andrew had thought, wasn’t it? “It wasn’t as simple and foolish as you make it sound!” Andrew tried to jerk his head away again, not putting much effort into the gesture when he was more focused on Danny’s relieved, happy laughter. “You’re just a naturally suspicious person, I suppose.”

“This from the former assassin,” Danny shot back at once, his inability to not have the last word kicking in as it always did. “I pass that well, huh?” There was something in the words that made the ends waver. There was a hesitance in how Danny braced himself, beginning to lean back as if expecting Andrew to ever care about something as simple as that. 

Mulling over his words, Andrew tried a dozen variations in his head before he sighed, truth slipping out of him as it always did around his idiotic, ridiculous, wonderful boyfriend, “Honestly, you say that like it matters.” Cupping the other’s cheek, Andrew brought him back in closer, kissing him softly. 

“Doesn’t it?” Danny asked as soon as he pulled back, a hint of fang peeking out as he bit at his lip. Even as he asked, though, Andrew could see the tension sliding out of him, body relaxed and easy to bring back towards his own. “I mean… does it matter?”

“Danny.” Andrew shook his head, incredulous laughter bursting out of him. “I thought you were going to betray me, and I was still in love with you and ready to do whatever you asked of me. What do you think that means?”

“Mm…” Danny trailed off, learning forward for a kiss before stopping just shy with a smirk. “That you’re more paranoid than you say you are.” The smirk was too much like Randy’s for Andrew’s liking and he felt no shame in grabbing a nearby pillow and trying to smother the brat. 

He had to admit, though… The bright, cheerful laughter wasn’t such a bad sound; and he supposed it was rather good that Danny wasn’t about to betray him to his parents. At least, not anytime soon, it seemed.

#danny phantom #iambic prose #ghostwriter #ghost writer #my writing #original

[poet-by-heart]

Repainting the Mona Lisa

Patroclus had a type. And he knew it. Hell how could he forget if Briseis reminded him of it every time he laid eyes on someone?

It started as a joke. Light teasing everyone with an annoying best friend knows to well. An “Of course he’s blonde.” here, “Athletic? Who would’ve guessed?” there. But right now he’s seriously questioning her sanity.

Normally Briseis is the one who has to talk sense into Patroclus when he starts acting a bit weird. So he’s completely out of his element at the moment.

But here they are. Leaning against their couch between a dozen of half empty take out cartons in front of the long abandoned episode of American Horror Story playing on his Laptop. Sometime after the 8th shot of tequilla the conversation turned personal and inevitably ended on the tragedy he called his love life. 

“This isn’t weird! It’s romantic!”, she states for the millionth time this night. “Just think about it.”

And he does. She might have had one shot of tequilla to much but somehow she still managed to sound at least slightly convincing. Patroclus is just not the kind of person to believe in things as love at first sight, destiny and reincarnation. 

Words he never thought Briseis would use in a ridiculous monologue about his relationships.

“I mean...just...listen!”, Briseis started again. “We know each other our whole lives and it has always been the same. You fall in love with the same type of guy every single time! Blond, green eyes, a body that could belong to a greek god. But something is always off.”

“Yeah...you established that well enough over the last 30 minutes but I’m still not sure where you’re going with this.”

All of a sudden she seems to be more sober than 10 seconds ago. She turnes around so she can look him right in the eyes and he hopes she doesn’t see the mortification in them.

“God it’s not you. I’m not trying to tell you that you are the reason your relationships never work out. It’s them! It feels like I’m watching you trying to repaint the Mona Lisa. They all resemble each other...or someone else...who knows. But something is always wrong. You can see the concept, the idea of a person they all could’ve been. But it’s never quite the thing itself.”

That’s a pretty metaphor but Patroclus is still confused.

“So what do you want me to do? Stop dating guys who look like this?”

Briseis gives him an exasperate eyeroll and lets herself fall flat on the floor.

“No you idiot! You need to find your Mona Lisa! The original... not some stupid copy you could buy for 20 bucks in a tourist shop near the Eiffel Tower.”

The next morning Briseis can’t remember half of the things she said. But that doesn’t mean they won’t stay in Paroclus head for the following weeks.

After two months he almost managed to spent a day not thinking about it once.

But then he spots him. On the other side of the fountain he’s sitting at trying to study for his upcoming anatomy test. Using one of the benches to help him strech, laughing about something the person next to him said. This laugh. Patroclus decides that it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. He has shoulder length golden hair. The soft curls framing his face perfectly.

He forces himself to look away as Briseis words come back to him.

In a wave of panic he takes his books and jumps up to run out of the park, crashing right into a solid body. 

As he looks up to apologize, deep green eyes are staring back at him.

“Oh god sorry I should really watch where I’m running.”, said the embodiment of every fantasy he ever had. Noticing Patroclus staring he quickly added “But it’s a nice excuse to start a conversation with you....”

“Patroclus.” He was really proud that his brain worked enough to not make him look like a complete idiot.

“Pa-tro-clus.”, he repeated.

Patroclus was never the kind of person to believe in things as love at first sight, destiny and reincarnation. But something about the way this guy pronounced every syllable of his name like it’s the most important thing in the world, makes him think that he has been searching for this man his whole life.

#the song of achilles #tsoa #tsoa fanfic #achilles x patroclus #patrochilles #achilles #patroclus #briseis #reincarnation #reincarnated au #alternate universe