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lesbianlotties · 3 years

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Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Fear Street x Bly Manor AU - Chapter 2

Chapters: 2/10 Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti Summary:

The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.

Chapter 2:

Sam hadn’t been kidding when she said she would deal with the kids by herself. About nine years as a teacher were worth it. She knew exactly how to balance patience and authority, and exactly when to crack a smile. It wasn’t time for smiles though. It was time to let the kids of Shadyside manor know that their days of self-government were over. Sam was brought there to bring them an education, and that included rules, discipline, and consequences to their actions.

So, if they locked her in a closet, there would have to be a sort of punishment. If they were responsible for the muddy footprints that appeared on the staircase of the house, there would also be a punishment. Nothing too severe, of course. Sam knew even the word punishment seemed too hard for kids. But she knew this would be her only chance at asserting her position in that place.

That was how, after breakfast, Sam found herself with nothing to do while Josh and Constance worked on cleaning up the stairs. Luckily, she was quickly approached by two of her coworkers.

“So, since you have put the kids to do my work,” Kate said. “Why don’t you come hang us for a bit?”

Simon pulled out one of the chairs from the table and with a flourish offered it to Sam, “Miss Fraser, would you care to join us for a mid-morning shit-talking session?”

“Oh, sure,” Sam chuckled nervously and accepted the seat. “And you can just call me Sam.” She couldn’t help repeating herself. She didn’t exactly have good memories attached to her name. She only ever wished to be just Sam.

“Don’t creep her out, please,” Kate told her friend and two of them took a seat as well. “So, Sam, what do you think of the house so far? And the kids?”

The new au pair took her time to answer. “The house is… big. It’s uh, I mean, sure, it looks scary. But once inside, it doesn’t feel as bad as the rumors make it out to be, you know?”

Kate nodded firmly, seemingly satisfied with that answer. Simon grinned playfully and leaned forward on the table as if about to discuss a secret, “You don’t have haunted houses in Sunnyvale?”

Sam chuckled bitterly at that. Apparently, it wasn’t a secret for anyone the place she came from. If only they knew the full story. “No we don’t,” she looked down and shook her head. “Sunnyvale has its different types of hauntings though.”

“What about the kids?” Kate blurted out.

“The Sunnyvale kids?”

“What? No! Constance and Josh,” Kate scoffed, and sent an unimpressed look in Sam's way.

“Oh, right,” Sam laughed nervously. She desperately hoped she wasn’t blushing in embarrassment. Kate was staring at her very intently, studying her. But it was, somehow, not getting exactly the effect she was hoping for in Sam. Because yes, maybe Sam was deeply intimidated. But she could also tell that Kate’s harshness came from a place of being protective of the kids and caring about them. “They seem great, really,” Sam eventually replied. “Constance is bold and Josh is an introvert, but I’ve dealt with kids like that my entire life. I’m going to try my best with them though, that’s for sure. I just… have to get to know them.”

At that moment, Kate and Simon exchanged a look. Sam had no doubt it was true that those two had been best friends for a long time. It seemed like a really important conversation was silently happening between them. Finally, Simon spoke up.

“No, you haven’t worked with kids like them,” he replied, suddenly very careful with his words. “No offense, you know? But, bold and introverted mean different things in Sunnyvale and Shadyside. Here they mean something more along the lines of survivor and traumatized.”

A not completely discreet cough from Kate got him to stop talking. “No, I know, I’m sorry,” Sam was quick to apologize. They weren’t completely wrong. “I know, it’s just, well… I don’t know anything… I mean, what, uh, why…” She ended with a sigh and slumping in her chair, knowing there was no right way to ask the questions she had in mind.

“Constance’s parents died two years ago,” Kate said. She was speaking almost in whispers, but it nearly startled Sam, who didn’t think she’d get any sort of explanation. Afterward, she would hope she hadn’t. “Cindy Berman and husband. Plane crashed. Then, last year… her aunt. Christine killed herself here on the property. Really gives you some perspective into all the fucking rumors, doesn’t it?”

Afterward, Sam was beyond speechless. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find a thing to say. That’s when Simon joined in.

“And Josh, he… uh, well, he is not one of the Bermans,” Simon was struggling to explain. “Look, he has his own fucked up past, okay? But I can’t tell you more because Deena would totally kick my ass. It’s their story to tell, you know? The past is the past anyway.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully. At least, she hoped she appeared thoughtful. Not too thoughtful though. Just thoughtful enough for someone that has perfectly normal reactions to hearing the name of a very particular co-worker. That momentary panic at least gave her an idea of how to reply to the tough conversation. A change of subject.

“What about you guys?” Sam asked. “How did you end up working at the manor?”

Instantly, Kate seemed to relax. “I just like bossing people around,” she grinned, earning laughter from the other two. “My aunt used to work here. Alice pays well enough. And if you don’t get scared easily, it’s not a bad place to live in.”

Sam smiled at her and then looked at Simon, noticing how he didn’t look half as relaxed as Kate this time. “What can I say?” he smiled in a way that kept a lot hidden. “It pays the bills. It’s close to home. And I fucking love food.”

The au pair decided it wasn’t time to push for more information. Instead, in that brief moment of silence, she turned her head to look through the door at Josh and Constance working on the stairs. They were doing well, but their day was far from over. From her point of view, she had no way of seeing the man standing on the other side of the stairs. Tommy Slater had been standing there for longer than he could remember. He was still wearing his red flannel shirt, still holding on to his axe, still looking impossibly sad, cold, and lonely.

As she made her way to the greenhouse, Sam tried to convince herself she wasn’t nervous at all. She had no reason to be anxious at all. Deena Johnson was another one of her coworkers. Sure, maybe she pulled Sam out of a pretty embarrassing breakdown the previous night. Yes, maybe she had an incredible smile that almost painfully reminded Sam of feelings she had spent a lifetime running from. But… she reached the greenhouse before coming up with a reason not to be on edge.

“Hi?” she called out, tentatively stepping inside the place.

“Over here,” a voice replied from the back of the greenhouse. A voice that was like no other Sam had ever heard.

“Um, hi, Deena,” Sam approached her slowly. “It’s me, uh, Sam.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Deena replied, a small smile on her lips. She stood up from the ground, where she had been kneeling down to work on one of the multiple plants that filled this space. “What do you have there?” Deena asked, nodding toward the plate Sam was holding in her hand.

Sam looked down, as if she had forgotten what it was she was carrying. “Simon,” she blurted out.

“Oh. He looks a little bit different than I remember.”

That made Sam laugh nervously. “I mean, it’s your breakfast,” Sam said. “You didn’t come down for breakfast and Simon asked me to bring it to you.”

Deena nodded slowly, and accepted the plate from Sam’s hands. Then she moved to one of the two chairs at the back of the greenhouse and sat down, inspecting her breakfast.

Afterward, Sam might chastise herself for it, but at the moment she couldn’t help but blurt out, “You’re welcome.”

That earned her an annoyed sigh from the gardener. “Listen, you don’t have to do this,” Deena said.

“Do what?” Sam wondered, taking a seat on the spare chair.

“Play nice with us, with me,” Deena explained, nearly whispering the last part.

“I…” Sam stuttered, she was definitely taken off guard. “Well, we are coworkers now, we live under the same roof, I think-”

“I think you have no idea what you got yourself into. This place, and everyone here, is doomed,” Deena interrupted her. “You’re Sunnyvale, we are Shadyside trash. I know your type. I only hope you’ll run away before the kids get attached to you.”

For a moment, all Sam could do was stare, frown silently at Deena, as the other woman nonchalantly got started on her breakfast, as if she hadn’t just put Sam’s entire mood upside down. It was interesting though, the way Deena chose not to mention the fact that she skipped breakfast just to avoid a set of blue eyes that were too dangerously pretty to wander into Shadyside.

Sam jumped out of her seat, and took a deep breath to reign in her feelings. “You don’t know me at all,” was all she said before walking out of the greenhouse.

The rest of the morning passed by in a blur of hard work, mostly for the kids. Surprisingly though, at one point they stopped looking so bothered about it. Josh wasn’t the kind to complain out loud, but Sam noticed from the way his shoulders relaxed and his lips almost started to smile. Constance, on the other hand, was pretty content complaining as much as possible, but she seemed happier doing something new, entertaining, and different from studying. They especially seemed to enjoy working outside.

Sam had wanted to avoid the unkind gardener as much as possible, but she had already planned this, so there was no turning back. This was part of the kids’ education, hard work, and Sam was proud of her methods. The one thing she wasn’t proud of was the way the gardener was making her feel. Her plan to avoid Deena had backfired. Deena, Kate, and Simon were lounging in the garden, while Sam guided Josh and Constance on their work.

As hard as she tried, Sam couldn’t stop herself from second-guessing what her new coworkers were talking about. Were they talking about her? Good things? Did Kate and Simon feel the same way as Deena? Were they criticizing her? Those smiles on their faces, was that a good or bad sign? Deena’s posture on that chair, the way she held a cigarette, played with the delicate chain hanging from her neck, teased her young brother, locked eyes with Sam precisely once… did it mean anything at all?

The rest of the morning went by easily. Sam dragged Josh and Constance back to the house to continue cleaning, and they had to comply. Tragic as it seemed, they couldn’t complain to anybody. Kate, Simon, Deena, even Alice in the safety of her own home, they all would have supported Sam’s teaching methods at best, would’ve laughed in their faces at worst.

Things couldn’t be perfect though. Sam would scold herself for letting her guard down at all. She had been in one of the bedrooms, assisting Constance with cleaning the windows, when it happened. One second it was just a window, showing the green grounds around the property, nothing more. Then the next second, all Sam could see was his face. Dark. Just a shadow. Furious. Disgusted. Head tilted. Observing her. Unforgiving. Horribly familiar.

Sam let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled backward. She caught herself before falling down to the floor, but not before Constance saw her. At first, the girl chuckled, but she sounded somewhat genuine when she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m- uh, I’m okay,” Sam replied, voice trembling. “Give me a minute.”

She was out of that room before hearing the girl’s reply. She couldn’t move fast enough, but her legs were trembling. She couldn’t shake that image of her mind. Her own particular ghost. The monster that she hadn’t been able to leave in Sunnyvale. Following her reflection everywhere she went.

Sam stumbled down the stairs and out of the house. She finally found refuge behind one of the big bushes on the sides of the entrance. A place where she could break down in peace. She couldn’t stop the tears, and she could hardly breathe, and she was so scared.

“Are you okay?”

The question makes Sam choke one of her sobs. Of all people that could have caught her at this moment…

“I get it,” Deena cautiously added, from a safe distance away. “I swear I had the same reaction after I met Constance.” She could barely see Sam, hiding behind the bush, but she guessed that privacy was exactly what the blonde wanted. “If Josh’s the problem though, just let me know. You aren’t allowed to, but I can totally kick his ass.” That earned her a tearful chuckle from Sam, which was a very good sign. “Just so you know though,” Deena added, “That’s usually my spot for having an emotional breakdown. Now I have to go to this other corner and there are spiders and shit in there, no privacy at all.”

This time, there was a genuine laugh coming from Sam. The tears had stopped, and she managed to find the strength to look over her shoulder, show her face to Deena and say, “Thank you.”

Deena softly shook her head, dismissing Sam’s need to thank her. “You’re doing better than most people could,” she said. Seeing Sam smile sadly, acknowledging her tear-streaked face, Deena insisted, “I mean it.”

There was a pause then. Sam opened her mouth, desperately wishing she could say something else. All she wanted was to ask Deena how she could be so kind and so cruel as if a switch was flipped inside her. But Sam feared that saying more than two words would make her cry again. Deena took that as her cue to go on with her day.

“Back to work then,” Deena said, starting to march back into the house. “Stay strong, Sunnyvale.”

Definitely done with her tears, Sam was having trouble holding back her smile. She tried to sneak another glance at the gardener, but Deena was gone, leaving behind only a pleasant warmth in Sam’s heart and a firm smile on her face.

Nine years of teaching had taught Sam a lot. She knew how to handle kids, that was for sure. The unruly ones, the proud ones, the ones that struggled, and the ones that shined brightly. Simon had been right when he said she had never worked with kids like Josh and Constance. Still, she was prepared to deal with Josh picking up spiders from the garden, and trying to scare her. She didn’t lose her ground even when Constance’s attitude sometimes made Sam feel like she was the teenager out of the two of them.

What she did that day wasn’t the worst Sam had to do for one of her students. Still, it was pretty awkward explaining to Deena how her younger brother had massacred the rose bushes to give the flowers to Sam.

When the two women arrived at the scene of the crime, it was a huge mess. Josh had picked a few roses for Sam and destroyed the rest. He must have been pretty aggressive to earn that small limp he had when he walked toward Sam a few minutes earlier.

The teenager fell to second place in the forefront of Sam’s mind though. She was slightly more preoccupied about the furious gardener gripping the broken stem of a rose as if it were a knife.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Deena yelled, not for the first time in the past minute, and tried to walk away.

“Hey,” Sam stopped her with a firm tone and a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll deal with him, it’s my job.”

Deena took a deep breath. She was pretty much shaking with anger still. She pursed her lips, suddenly aware of the way she had been yelling at the innocent au pair for god knows how long now. She wasn’t good at apologizing though. She slumped her shoulders and exhaled.

“It’s just… he should know better than this,” Deena said bitterly. “We are lucky to be living here. He knows he has to stay out of trouble.” She looked up into Sam’s blue eyes and the careful attention she found there nearly turned her breathless. “That was the deal,” Deena added softly, taking a moment to gulp nervously. “I made a deal with Cindy Berman years ago, when we had nothing. Josh and I could live here, and I’d pay her by working on the grounds of the manor.”

Sam nodded slowly, with a barely-there smile that let Deena know she had listened, and understood. “It’s okay,” Sam said. “I don’t think it’ll be a big deal. I won’t say anything if you don’t.” The two women exchanged a smile. “It’s just a few flowers-”

“It’s not just a few flowers,” Deena protested immediately.

“I know, I know,” Sam quickly said. She was tiptoeing the line between fearing Deena’s temper and being endeared by how protective she was of her plants. “They’re also a weapon, apparently.”

Deena tilted her head in confusion. “Ah,” she said when she looked down at the rose’s stem she was still holding in her hand. She couldn’t say anything else though. Sam had taken the initiative to reach out and gently pry open Deena’s fist to take the stem away. That’s when they both noticed there had been thorns involved. “Shit,” Deena cursed.

“Um,” Sam mumbled pensively as she stared at the couple of red spots on Deena’s hand. “You know, to be a teacher, you have to learn a thing or two about first aid. Do you want help?”

Deena was already shaking her head. Her wild curls shook with her movement. “No, it’s okay- fuck!” She exclaimed in pain the moment she tried to close her hand again. Now there were a few drops of blood on her palm. “Fine,” she grumbled.

Deena was so upset about having someone bandaging her hand, that Sam found the whole process much easier than she had expected. It was a little bit like dealing with a kid, not that she would ever admit such a thing to the gardener.

“So, you really like those roses, huh?” Sam asked while cleaning up the little wounds in Deena’s palm.

“They’re some of my favorites from the entire property,” Deena shrugged. “I like all these plants more than most people, that’s for sure.”

Sam nodded, picking up the bandages. “Why would he do this?” she asked. “Josh, I mean. He doesn’t seem to be the type to vandalize the gardens.”

“He isn’t. There was one bad fucking influence and…” Deena replied. Her words were hiding a lot, but her resentful tone warned the au pair against making any further questions. Instead, Deena looked up and added, “or maybe… he just really likes you, Sunnyvale.”

Sam laughed at that, and ducked her head to avoid those gorgeous brown eyes. Surprisingly, she decided to admit something right then and there in the otherwise empty kitchen of the manor while holding on to Deena’s hand. “You do know I’m not even from Sunnyvale, right?”

“What?” Deena asked. She looked caught off guard for the first time since Sam met her.

“You guys don’t fact-check your gossip, huh?” Sam chuckled. “I was born here, in Shadyside. I moved away when I was little, after my father died, but… I guess, now I’m trying to find my home, you know?”

“Right,” Deena replied.

She blinked slowly, and her eyebrows furrowed into a small frown as she took in the information, the significance of Sam sharing it with her, and the unknown reason why the word home sounded so perfect coming from Sam’s smiling lips.

After a brief silence that felt like it stretched for hours, Deena cleared her throat. “Well, uh, thank you, for giving me a hand,” she said. The mention of her hand made both women realize that this entire time they hadn’t let go of each other’s hands. They pulled away from each other quickly, but nothing could have wiped the smiles off their faces. “It’s not the worst I’ve dealt with so I better get back to work. I guess I’ll see you around… Sunnyvale.”

Sam didn’t even attempt to hold back her grin. Distantly, she wished she wasn’t blushing too much, but that was it. She turned around to watch Deena walk away from the kitchen. Then she was rewarded with the sight of Deena looking back at her once before crossing the doorway.

When she was alone again, Sam leaned her back against the counter and sighed. It was a mixture of contentment and exhaustion. She had tried her best to maintain a good impression in front of Deena, and now she could finally relax. She was starting to understand her better too, how Deena’s boldness came from a good place of being protective over her brother, and maybe even over the whole property. Sam’s exhaustion though, didn’t come from anywhere near Deena, the teens, or the house. She was only realizing how absurdly debilitating it had been to keep up a false version of herself at all times during those years in Sunnyvale. Slowly but surely, she was leaving all that behind.

Sam took a deep breath and straightened up. Then she started to walk out of the kitchen following the path Deena had walked a minute ago. She didn’t have to look back before crossing the doorway, she just kept walking. This way, she missed Ryan Torres’s presence in one corner of the kitchen. Lonesome, unknown, fumbling with the knife he still carried at all times.

“Josh! Constance! You guys are way too old for this kind of game!” Sam was yelling as she walked around the house. She didn’t understand how Kate hadn’t heard her yet.

She wasn’t scared. Just because they had turned off all the lights and she was only barely familiar with the house didn’t mean she should be scared. The kids wanted to improvise a game of hide and seek to avoid going to bed? Fine. Sam wasn’t scared of the dark. In the darkness she couldn’t see her reflection and whatever cursed company she would find there. If she had to drag a couple of teenagers to their beds from their ears then so be it.

When Sam caught sight of the curtains of one room moving strangely, she hurried towards it and pulled at it, but there was nobody there. She sighed, disappointed, stressed, but not scared, not yet. She heard footsteps behind her, and when she turned around, she distinctly heard the front door of the house open. Chills ran through Sam’s spine. It was unsettling, but not too bad, right? She would be deeply upset if she had to chase a pair of teenagers out in the middle of a storm, but it could be worse.

It could be worse… Maybe it was much worse than she imagined. That was the thought going through Sam’s mind when, very slowly, she turned back around to face the window again. At first, it looked like a blur. Then, she feared it was that same ghostly silhouette that followed her everywhere. Somehow, it was worse. Somehow, the figure moved closer and it became clear. There was a man standing on the other side of the window. Tall. Dark hair. Hazel eyes. Smile that never, under any circumstances, would have been mistaken for friendly.

Sam took a step backward, so did he. Then she took off running. Not in the direction some might have expected. She wasn’t running away to hide. She ran out of that room, taking the fireplace poker from its stand and gripping it with force as she rushed out of the house.

“I’m going to call the police!” Sam yelled while the rain poured down on her. “I’m going to call the fucking police!”

She ran toward the window where she’d seen that man. He was nowhere to be seen but, as if it was all part of a pattern, she stumbled across the worst possible scenario.

“Sam?” Josh mumbled. He was just standing there, shaking with cold, drenched from the rain… then he just crumbled down, falling to the ground, unconscious.

#update!!! please read and share and leave comments and i'll love u forever!!#fear street #sameena #sam x deena #deena x sam #sam fraser #deena johnson #fear street fanfiction #my fic

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gay-otlc · 3 years

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Keepers of the Chaos (Chapter 2)

Summary: Tam, Linh, Keefe, Biana, and Fitz are part of the tiny fandom for Keeper of the Chaos, and Tam and Linh's podcast convinces some of their other friends to watch it as well. The group finds themselves strangely invested in this show, where students at Tumblr High School who work together to write about an elf named Sophia, cause incomprehensible chaos, and fight their rival Pinterest High School.

Content warnings: Cursing, food, L*ura

Word count: 2005

Notes: Check out the beautiful theme song here!

(Read on AO3)

Sophie rolls her eyes as she opens the link her girlfriend sent her and puts in her earbuds. Biana has been incessantly pestering her to watch Keepers of the Chaos for so long that Sophie half wants to watch it just to shut her up, but she's always tired, or busy, and she doesn't really like watching new things. Still, Biana asked her very nicely to listen to this one podcast, and she looked very pretty when she asked, so Sophie's dumb omni ass couldn't refuse.

"Welcome to the Twins of the Chaos podcast," it begins after loading for an obnoxiously long time. The girl speaking has a pretty voice, Sophie has to admit- sweet and melodic and vaguely amused.

Maybe listening to this podcast won't be so bad if she can listen to that girl's voice the whole time.

But another person speaks, adding "Where some chaotic twins discuss our favorite show, Keepers of the Chaos," and his voice is not as pretty. She continues listening anyway, since Biana may or may not murder her if she stops.

The two voices- whose names are Linh and Tam, apparently- start talking about Keepers of the Chaos some more, giving Sophie a summary she's heard tons of times from Biana and Fitz- though the twins explain it slightly more coherently and with less... whatever the verbal equivalent of keyboard smashing is. Biana usually starts rambling about her favorite characters, like Lynn- not "Lynn the fandom mom," but the other Lynn- and Avery, or sometimes Nora and Darwin. Sophie doesn't understand any of those names and loses track of the conversation as soon as it involves too many unfamiliar names.

But Tam and Linh are making more sense, at least for the most part, until they start mentioning specific couples. The conversation gets again comprehensive soon enough, though, and Sophie does smile at the name "The Dark Duck."

By the end, when Tam says "half of them wearing sleeping masks with teal eyes painted on and the other half watching the chaos with mild amusement," Sophie is curious enough to be mildly intrigued. She listens to their outro music, and before she can regret it, types out a text message to Biana.

Sophie: fine

Sophie: ill watch it

Biana responds instantly with an array of heart emojis. Sophie blushes.

Biana: can i come over and watch with u?

Sophie: ok!

Sophie: moms making mallowmelt

Sophie: but u cant have any

Biana: >:(

Biana: hope u like being single then

Sophie: fine u can have some mallowmelt

Biana: yayyyy!

Biana: ily

Sophie: ilyt

Sophie: now lets watch ur stupid show

Biana: on my way!!!

Sophie smiles, shaking her head. She's a little annoyed, but fine, it sounds interesting enough from the podcast. And what else would she be doing? Studying? Having US history as an alternative would make even the most horrible of shows seem good. She stuffs her textbooks into her backpack and shoves some things out of the way so her room looks a bit neater before rushing downstairs. The mallowmelt smells good enough to make her mouth water.

"Mmm..." she sighs, barely taking time to let it cool off before taking a large bite. "That's so good. Thanks, Mom."

Edaline smiles. "You're welcome. Just save some for your father and I."

"Fine, fine. I have to share with Biana, anyway." Sophie huffs and takes another bite. "She's coming over, is that alright? We're going to watch a show together."

"Sure, just make sure to get your homework done."

Sophie rolls her eyes. "Fine."

"And keep the door open!" Grady calls. Edaline laughs as Sophie's face flames.

"I'm going back to my room," she grumbles, taking a plate of mallowmelt with her and walking up the stairs. She manages not to trip over her own feet and drop the mallowmelt, thankfully, as she grabs her laptop and opens Netflix. Sighing, she searches for Keepers of the Chaos and clicks on the show that comes up before waiting for Biana to arrive.

The doorbell rings soon, and Sophie carefully sets down her laptop and her plate on her bed before rushing down the stairs. Panting slightly, she opens the door for her girlfriend. Biana's wearing a t-shirt with the Amsterdam flag on it. Sophie has no idea why. Maybe Biana likes the country? Her girlfriend is pretty weird. "Come on in," she says, realizing she's been staring. In her defense, Biana is pretty and Sophie is very omni.

"Ready to go watch Keepers of the Chaos?" Biana asks. She bounces on her toes slightly.

"Alright," says Sophie. "I set it up on my laptop in my room."

"Awesome! You'll love it."

Sophie follows Biana up the stairs and into her room. They sit on the bed together, Sophie leaning against the wall and Biana leaning against Sophie, and Biana presses play. Somber kazoos begin playing in the background as the theme song starts.

We're on the edge of chaos

No one is straight

We're making fanart

Because L*ura we hate

And we're gonna have teal eyes in the end!

We must be weird, and we must be gay

(We must be gay!)

We will find every bit of sanity that we have

And give it all to Lynn

Ohhhh

We must be gay!

Biana dances a little along with the song, and Sophie can't help but smile. A curvy, round-faced person with short dark hair and colorful earrings plays a few notes on the piano, and then a KEEPERS OF THE CHAOS logo flashes across the screen. Then, a group of students sit in a classroom.

"Shai! Tater! Lynn! You three finally got together?" says the same person who just played piano, gesturing to a redhaed wearing a Sappho lesbian flag cape. She's holding the fingerless-gloved hand of a lanky person with brightly colored hair, and they're holding hands with a tall girl who has chin length brown hair. The rest of the class applauds the fiancees before returning to their own conversations.

"Yep! Thanks, Ink," says Tater.

Ink smiles at them and turns to a person with light brown skin and golden hoop earrings partially covered by long dark hair. "Hi, Kiri, how was your break?"

"Good! Here's to a good 2021?" Kiri turns to the person next to them. "How about you, Ref?"

Ref has short brown hair and red glasses. "Yeah, my break was dOPE," she says, leaving everyone to wonder how he did that with their voice. "oH, and happy belated Hanukkah to Shai!"

"Thanks, you too. And guess what! I didn't set my hair on fire this year!"

A short guy with strawberry blonde hair looks concerned. "Um. Congratulations?"

"Thanks, Sam!"

Sophie looks away from the screen and at Biana. "There are a lot of characters..." she mutters.

"Yeah, but you get to know them well enough eventually," says Biana. "Now shh, let's keep watching!"

A lot of other characters are introduced in various conversations, and Sophie's brain has a hard time keeping track of them all. She does remember Tara, a curvy, bored-looking girl with long sideswept bangs, and Blue, a bisexual who may or may not be an arsonist. She doesn't know either of their personalities very well yet, but she likes them so far. Lucat, a pale, blue haired asexual, who later joins the Hanukkah conversation, also seems cool.

Once quite a bit of introductions are done- Sophie lost count at around twenty something- are over, an announcement comes over the school's loudspeakers.

"Welcome back, Tumblr High School!" announces a voice. "I hope you all had a good break. Now, the Tumblr staff have an important announcement for you all. High schools in this county, like ours, Pinterest High School, and Instagram High School, will be holding a competition. All members of the winning team will receive a scholarship to AO3 college. If you are interested, meet in room 69 after school. Now, onto other announcements..."

Somber kazoos play again as the principal's droning voice fades into the background. A montage of the previously introduced characters wishing they could go to AO3 college moves across the screen. After a few minutes of them zooming through school and talking about how fucking boring it is, all of them gather in the room (some of them with more jokes than others) to discuss the competition.

A blonde woman welcomes them into the room. They wait a while to make sure no one else will arrive, but once everyone is there, the woman clears her throat. "Hello, everyone! I'm glad you're interested in joining the competition. My name is Shannon Messenger, and I'm in charge of admissions at AO3 College. My coworker L*ura and I designed this competition."

Sophie gasps and looks at Biana. "L*ura? But isn't that the person they hate? They said that in the intro!" Biana smiles at her, and she blushes as she realizes that she's kind of... maybe... invested in the show now. She decides she'll endure the "I told you so"s later and looks back at the show, trying to telepathically tell the characters not to trust this L*ura person... and perhaps not Shannon either. It's too early to tell whether Shannon will be an antagonist or not.

"All of you will be working as a team to write a story together. The main premise is that a twelve year old girl named Sophia is a telepath, but she can't tell anyone her secret. Then, she meets a teal-eyed boy named Finn, and he tells her that she's an elf. She travels back to the elf world with him, where she struggles a bit at the elf school Firefox, makes friends with some other elves, learns that she is an illegal creation of a rebel group called the Dark Duck, and another rebel group- the Rarelynoticed- tries to kidnap and kill Sophia and her friend Deck. There are other details to be included into the story, which will be given out to the participants as a packet. The object of this competition is not to determine your ability at coming up with story ideas, but your ability to work in groups and execute well developed ideas. Does anyone have any questions?"

Someone raises their hand- a short, tanned girl. "Lynn?" prompts the principal.

"Did you say the rebel group was named the Dark Duck?"

"And the Rarelynoticed?" adds another person, with rectangular glasses and a red bracelet.

"Raise your hand before speaking, Auran," scolds the principal. "But yes, those are the names."

"Alright then," Auran mutters.

"Unless anyone else has questions, we'll be sending out sign up forms for everyone interested, and then we will distribute the information packets about your story. You can talk to each other and start planning."

No one else has questions, so once they've all filled out the sign up form, they gather in small groups and flip through the packets, making sarcastic comments or mocking names ("'Rarelynoticed' though-" a stylish hijabi named Raiin sighs as they come across a page of information about the group) as they try to form some semblance of a plan. Once they all agree that they've made a lot of progress, they make plans to meet up again soon and walk back home.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of ominous teal eyes watch from above.

Somber kazoos play once again, and the credits roll.

"So, what'd you think?" Biana asks as Sophie closes her laptop.

Rather inaudibly, Sophie mumbles "It was good."

"What was that?"

"It was good! I liked it!"

Biana grins. "I told you so." She leans over and kisses Sophie on the cheek. "Thanks for watching it. I have to go do some homework, awesome seeing you!" As she walks out, Sophie hears her singing under her breath. "We must be gay..."

#tumblr kotlc fandom fandom #keepers of the chaos #shai types things #cursing tw #we must be g a y #shai's writing

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

Ok imma be honest, this chapter moved me to tears and not the sad sobbing but the more inspiring kind. This chapter means the world.

She had told them her dreams were about ducks – since there were the only equally horrible thing she could think of.

Uncle Magnus had given her an odd look then, as if he knew she was bullshitting them. But he hadn’t said anything.

DUCKS AREN'T THAT BAD! HAVE Y'ALL EVER BEEN CHASED BY A GOAT?? I WAS CONVINCED I WAS GONNA DIE

Lexi would be royally pissed if this turned out to be some stupid pointless dream.

YUP

Even though she was only 7 minutes older than Lexi, Selena always acted like she was 7 years older.

That's so cute though

People looked at her pastel-coloured aesthetic immediately assumed she was the soft and sweet Fairchild twin. People saw Selena in her red leather jacket and thigh high boots and assumed she was in the infamous troublesome Herondale twin.

SMH THE DAMN STEREOTYPES

Why Selena hadn’t killed her in her sleep yet, Lexi doesn’t know.

BYE THAT'S EVERY SIBLING RELATIONSHIP EVER

The meals at the Academy were to die for – quite literally. Last week two students from the warlock fraction had almost killed each other over a blueberry muffin.

Oh how times change...they will never know the dreaded soup

NO ANJALI HAS BEEN GONE FOR OVER A YEAR???

IS JAIME OK?? PLEASE BE OK! HE CAN LIVE WITH TREATMENT SO I REALLY HOPE HE'S OK

Selena’s was Idris of course. She was kind of obsessed with it.

Max loved the shadow markets. Lexi thought they were very cool too.

Rafael loved his father’s office – which was weird. There was nothing to do in that room other than ponder about shadow world problems. Besides, the place still weirdly smelled like the tangerine perfume Anjali wore, even though the girl had left New York almost a year ago.

David loved the New York Institute – especially the library.

Gigi of course loved the dining halls.

Dining halls, kitchens, food trucks, vending machines - if a place had food with it, Gigi loved it.

It's so amazing how they all have their favorite places...(same David same)

“You’re supposed to pour the syrup on the pancakes not into your mouth,” Lexi chuckled as she sat down next to her.

“It ends up in my mouth anyway,” Gigi shrugged.

True enough.

AWW ROMAN MAKING GIGI PLAYLISTS!!

Someone make me a playlist.

“His parents fell in love in Rome when they were in Rome,” Gigi pointed out even though Lexi already knew. “I think it’s actually romantic.”

I had forgotten that-

Roman was nice. But not nice enough for Georgia. Lexi didn’t think there was anyone good enough for her parabatai – who was the most perfect person in the world.

Me @ anyone who tries to make a move at my best friend.

AWW GEORGIA LIKES HIM TOO!!

When's the wedding?

(you're telling me you didn't believe you were gonna marry your childhood crush? Liar)

“I like being his friend,” Georgia said. “I like spending time with him and all of that. But I don’t know if I like him…in that way. I feel like I need more time.”

Demiromantic??? YES GIVE US THE REP

Lexi sometimes thought life would be so much simpler if the world was full of women and everyone was a lesbian.

Ikr?? Life would be so much easier.

Lexi says Roman is too-nice-sus

Well well well

The kind of love that cheated death.

The kind of love that sustained memory spells put by princes of hell.

The kind of love that changed the world.

Trust me all of our standards are very high

Lexi successfully survived the class without falling asleep.

Me during English.

Ok who's the blond?

Lexi I thought we weren't gonna fall this soon-

Oh the girl's straight...sigh we've all been there.

which meant they had to hold hands. Kinda.

Lexi was a little scared of that.

Me.

Goddamnit, Alexandra. Get your gay together!

THAT'S SO RELATABLE LIKE?? YES

OH MY GOD IT'S EMMA AND JULIAN'S DAUGHTER GEIDIDHDOHDJSKSJSKGXJDHSODHKDGDDGDJHDJDGDJDGJDHD

Lexi knew Olivia liked boys. She hadn’t dated anyone officially of course. All the boys were kind of terrified of her father.

She could be bi or pan or omni. WE GOTTA HAVE HOPE

vegetable loaf... David I'm so sorry you had to go through this.

Lexi then decided not to do any of her homework over the weekend because she was not coming back to the academy. She was not going to survive the sleepover and whatever else Olivia had in mind.

Bestie...why is this me when I make eye contact with my crush.

“Good stuff?” Max snorted. “Rafe literally ran away from home cause shit got too intense.”

“I didn’t run away!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Stop telling people that!”

“But you have rumours and shadowhunters getting thrown into silent city and cohort drama and all that exciting stuff!” Liv pointed out.

I-

Liv-

True though.

“Wasn’t there a serial killer when your parents were young?” David asked.

“And didn’t your uncle do necromancy?” Max said biting into a chicken wing.

True and true

“Sorry, Chouchou!” Lexi winced. “I, uh, sensed a mosquitoe on your leg.”

“Girl, your angel powers are weird as fuck,” Max laughed.

MAX LANGUAGE

“I don’t know,” the girl shrugged and threw her a wink. “I wouldn’t put anything past Lexi.”

Lexi looked at Gigi. She was one more compliment away from screaming.

But Gigi of course knew her struggle and therefore quickly stuffed a bread roll into Lexi’s mouth.

I need someone to stuff bread into my mouth when things get like this

There were rumours about David – and how Daddy had an affair. Lexi was yet to find those asshats and shove a witch light down their throats.

When you find them lemme know too.

“Or maybe it’s because you don’t need rumours be interesting,” David pointed out.

Max turned around, looking surprised at that. His cheeks turned purple. Lexi didn’t know why he was surprised. David only ever spoke fondly of Max.

JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY OH MY GOD

“Oh. Oh! I did hear something a long time ago!” Gigi said suddenly. “Olly, is it true you were conceived at the beach?”

“Georgia, you can’t just ask people where they were conceived!” David sounded horrified.

That is very much possible.

“I heard you were conceived in hell?”

“Oh my god,” Selena looked horrified. “That’s not true! It must have been about Max!”

“Y’all I am adopted!” Max was shaking with laughter and then stopped. “Although our dads could have definitely had sex in hell. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Oh yes. Both clace and malec.

Then they had of course continued to discuss that cursed topic until Rafael had threatened to tell the Consul about it.

LMAO

Lexi turned around and saw Liv waiting for her. Nope. She wasn’t going to talk a walk – a fucking stroll! – with Olivia all on her own.

“You are coming back to the institute with me or I will un-parabatai you.”

You know there being an un-parabatai ceremony would solve a lot of shit

What if their hands accidentally grazed or something? That shit was lethal.

RIGHT????

She is just trying to be nice. That’s what friends do. They are nice. And they give each other pretty dresses and say they would like to see them in it.

Honey that's gay.

EVERYONE ASKING HER OUT IM DEAD

Selena: Ugh boys

Selena: When I win back Idris, we are leaving all the men behind.

Lexi: Except Magnus? Lol.

Selena: Obviously.

Is that even a question Lexi? Duh.

ALEC LIGHTWOOD THOUGHT SHE WAS STRAIGHT? THE SHAME!

OH MY GOD IM CACKLING

Not everyone can kiss their partner in the Accords Hall. Some people didn’t have access to the Accords Hall.

And most important, some people didn’t have partners!

We're getting a lexi and Alec talk someone hold me

“I’m going to tell you something,” Uncle Alec said. “It might sound simple. It might sound ridiculous. But it’s the truth. So, you must believe me. Can you do that?”

Lexi gave him a small nod.

“It doesn’t matter what other people think,” Uncle Alec said. “Not when it comes to your future. Not when it comes to your identity. They don’t get to have a say in who you are and why you are the way you are.”

Lexi bit her lip.

“Alexandra, people will always tell what to do. But you shouldn’t let them. Never let anyone tell you what to do with your heart or your body. Neither belongs them. It only belongs to you.”

THIS RIGHT HERE MADE ME START CRYING BECAUSE DAMN YES!

“Yep,” she groaned and then hesitated for a moment. “Uncle Alec…Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Can I say no?”

“No.”

“Then go ahead.”

I love her so much

“I feel…I feel it’s something we have to bear, Alexandra. The fear of rejection. It’s something we have to accept as an inevitable part of our lives. Because no matter how much love we have around us, we will always be afraid of people not loving us – simply because of who we are.”

Yeah...

“Besides, they named you after me,” he pointed out. “I don’t know what else they expected.”

EXACTLY! Did they really expect a straight child after naming them after Alec?

“I do like shouting,” Lexi wondered out loud. “That’s good advice.”

“I didn’t mean it literally!” Uncle Alec looked alarmed.

“No, it makes total sense!” Lexi grinned. “Some of these people can be tone deaf. Gotta shout it out. Loud and clear. Awesome advice! Thanks, Uncle Alec!”

DO IT

“Hey, Lexi. I was wonderin-”

“MOVE, I’M GAY!” she yelled as she shoved him aside and kept on running.

ABSOLUTELY ICONIC

“I prefer she/her,” Lexi answered. "But sometimes I prefer she/they. But you can use she/her because some of y'all already shit at grammar."

That's exactly what I tell people when they ask for my pronouns. Istg people are shit at grammar.

alright girl im here to give you a lecture on how someone's dressing doesn't describe their sexuality

OH MY MY GOD THERE WAS A GENDER AND SEXUALITY CLASS IN THE ACADEMY ARE THEY RECRUITING???

One of the boys who had complimented cleared his throat. “So, uh, you don’t like boys?”

“That’s literally what I said,” Lexi rolled her eyes. “I’m gay. I’m very gay. I’m gayer than the Consul. Okay fine, that’s not true. No one gayer than the Consul. But I’m still pretty gay.”

Does the boy have hearing problems?

ALSO YES NO ONE'S GAYER THAN THE CONSUL

“Sexual orientation and gender expression are two different things,” she explained now, remember what Uncle Magnus had taught them. “Sexual orientation refers to who I am sexually and romantically attracted to. Gender expression is how I want to express my gender identity. Those two are not connected. Just because a woman wears feminine clothes it doesn’t mean she is straight. Just because a man embraces femininity, it doesn’t make him gay either. Does that make sense?”

“Ohhh,” the girl nodded. “Yes, it does. Thank you!”

“What I wear does not reflect who I like. It reflects who I am and what I like to wear,” Lexi explained. “And regardless of my sexuality, I like pretty things.”

Exactly.

“This doesn’t change anything. I hope you know that,” he told her. “I mean I have to change the pronouns in my shovel talk. But that’s not a big deal.”

Awwww

Also – my good friend Raziel told me that homophobia is a sin.”

“You mean homosexuality is a sin?” an older man asked.

“No, homophobia is a sin,” Lexi repeated. “That’s what Raziel said.”

“But that’s not-”

Someone cleared their throat. When he spoke, it was in the Consul Voice.

“Are you saying know better than Raziel?” the Consul asked.

Listen to Raziel you dumb shit

“Sure. Let me just call the Lesbian Alliance,” Lexi rolled her eyes.

Ugh I wish

OH NO NO NO NOT THE FAKE DATING. JUST CONFESS AND DATE FOR REAL

“Alexandra, I have a fucking undercut and I have pink highlights and I cuff my jeans and I literally walk around with a sword and I can quote Lady Gaga to perfection! Why would you ever think I was straight??”

Lexi your gaydar is broken bestie.

Don't do this omg this is gonna be a mess

Gigi: THIS IS A BAD IDEA. ABORT! ABORT!

Lexi: Relaaaax. It’s going to be fine!

Gigi: I’ve read enough fanfiction to know the fake dating trope never ends well!

Lexi: I’ve told you to include the ‘angst with happy ending’ tag!

LMAO

Also Gigi which fanfiction do you read?

Jace omg...

That's so him though.

“How about my peeps? It sounds very hip.”

“It does not,” Lexi replied. “Please don’t refer to us as your peeps under any circumstance."

IM SCREAMING ASHSKHSIDBSHSHDH

Her father chuckled at that. “Sweetheart, you’re a Herondale. Being problematic is what we do.”

EXACTLY

Daddy opened the notebook again. “I need names.”

Grabs flamethrower names

“Besides, the Lightwoods and Blackthorns have been hogging the gay genes for too long. Now it’s our turn. I say you gay it up.”

“Gay it up?” Lexi laughed.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Go for the highest possible level of gay.”

DO IT

He blinked for a second and then it hit him. “OH MY GOD YES! DOES EMMA KNOW??”

Lexi laughed. Yeah, he can never find out it was a fake dating situation.

Hopefully he won't have to because it won't be fake :D

“To love is a privilege and to be loved is a blessing.”

THE GROWTH OH MY GOD

This chapter literally means so much to me. I don't even know what to say. I hope I too can one day have the courage to shout it in front of everyone and not be scared. See ya on Tuesday!

It means so much to me that this chapter meant a lot to you. I hope you find all the courage, strength and support you need. You are amazing.

And here. I made you a playlist.

You can find it here on YouTube. I hope you like it :)

#lbaf

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sparkandwolf · 4 years

Text

Platonic Absolutes (read on ao3)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale and Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Rating: General Summary: When Stiles first met Laura, there was no doubt in his mind that their soul bond wasn’t meant to be anything but platonic. He had heard of that happening, that the marks on a person’s body could mean they had a soulmate by any meaning of the word, and was momentarily disappointed that his meant a lifetime best friend.

Then he realized that Laura was the most incredible woman he had ever met. If it wasn’t for the fact she was very, very, gay, he would’ve fallen in love with her the moment she barged into his life.Hale.

For the fantastic @evanesdust ♥️ Thank you for your support and creating such incredible content for us!

When Stiles first met Laura, there was no doubt in his mind that their soul bond wasn’t meant to be anything but platonic. He had heard of that happening, that the marks on a person’s body could mean they had a soulmate by any meaning of the word, and was momentarily disappointed that his meant a lifetime best friend. Then he realized that Laura was the most incredible woman he had ever met. If it wasn’t for the fact she was very, very, gay, he would’ve fallen in love with her the moment she barged into his life.

Laura took some convincing, though. Stiles helped her through a sexuality crisis - “Maybe I do like men.” “Does the fact I have a penis excite you?” “Absolutely not.” “You’re a lesbian, Laura.” - before they settled on getting to know each other before they pushed aside their fated connection as a mistake. Stiles researched and studied until he found a history book on platonic soulmates; a person who was meant to be in your life as a confidant, an unrelenting support, and a shoulder to cry on whenever the other needed it. Stiles could be that for Laura and he wanted to be that for her.

It was solidified the first time she had him over to her mansion-sized house in the middle of the woods a few miles outside of the town he grew up in. He had heard of the Hale’s - it was hard to not know everyone in such a close-knit town, especially when his dad was the sheriff - and the legacy that they brought to Beacon Hills. The family had been in the town since its founding and there were rumors that Stiles didn’t want to repeat (mostly about incest and immortality) that were quickly stricken from his mind the second he entered their home.

“Mom, Dad, this is Stiles, my completely platonic soulmate,” Laura said carefully as if her family hadn’t believed her the first hundred times she told them. Stiles held out his hand but was quickly pulled into a tight hug that could only be described as motherly.

“Oh, Mr. Stilinski, it’s so nice to finally be introduced to you!” Mrs. Hale said as she held Stiles by his shoulders, shooting a glare at her daughter. “We’ve heard so much about you,” she added with a wink that had Stiles’ face reddening.

“You have already technically met him, Talia,” Laura’s dad chimed in as he extended his hand to Stiles. He shook it steadily, wincing a bit at the tight squeeze of her father’s hand.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hale, you have a beautiful home,” Stiles commented cheerfully, grinning at them with teeth shining.

“Oh, please, son,” Mrs. Hale said with a wave of her hand. “I’m Talia, and my husband here is Evan. You’re gonna be around for the long haul it seems, so you might as well drop the niceties,” Mrs. Hale - Talia - corrected as she made her way into the kitchen area. Laura rolled her eyes and grabbed Stiles’ hand before he could say much more and dragged him further into the living room.

Stiles glanced around, but his gaze froze on the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his short life. There was no doubt in Stiles’ mind that he was Laura’s brother, the one she had spoken fondly and annoyingly about. They shared the same sharp features and dark hair and he looked just as broody as Laura had described him. The muscles in his back and arms rippled from where he attempted to hang a family photo while their younger sibling directed him with a smirk on her face.

“C’mon, Derek, I know you’re not straight, but you can at least hang a picture that way!” Laura yelled, her laugh only loudening when her brother - Derek - shot a glare over his shoulder.

“Like you could do a better job, Lo,” he spat back, letting go on the frame and nodding at it before it fell to the side and swung back and forth. He let out a loud groan and ran a hand through his hair before pointing at his sisters accusingly. “You guys figure it out. I have a pa-- plans with… people,” he said carefully when he finally noticed Stiles in the room.

“You’ve got a pack meeting with Isaac, Boyd, and Erica,” Stiles corrected with a nonchalant gesture of his hand. Derek gaped at him and then his eyes darted to Laura who was barely containing her delight.

“You told him?” Derek asked, taking a few steps closer to Laura who held up her hands in defense.

“Hey, I’m stuck with him as much as the rest of us. He already knew about wolves because of his dad so I figured I’d bite the silver bullet and let him in on the family secret,” Laura said with a shrug.

Derek glanced back over at Stiles before saying, “And he knows not to tell anyone?” Derek said with a heat in his eyes Stiles couldn’t quite explain. The look had his spine tingling with interest.

“Cross my heart and hope to get mauled by feral werewolves, Sourwolf,” Stiles said with a wink that only seemed to annoy Derek further.

“He’s harmless, Der. Just give him a chance, okay? We’re fated, or so they tell me,” Laura responded, tossing an arm over Stiles’ shoulder and pulling him close. His soul seemed to sing at the acceptance and he settled his arm around her waist happily.

“Right, well,” Derek began, grabbing a leather jacket that hung from the coat rack, “I’ll be back for dinner because apparently, our mother wants to pull out all the stops to impress the human.” Stiles was momentarily offended by the disgust in Derek’s voice but he remembered what Laura had told him about her brother. He took a while to trust people because of some tragic past event but once he did, he would protect that person with his entire life. Stiles admired that more than he could say.

“Tell the pack I said hi!” Cora called as Derek lifted his arms to put on his coat. Stiles felt disappointment surge through him when he saw the small mark on his hip that could only mean he had a soulmate. Leave it to Stiles to find the most perfect person he could have wished for only to have his dreams squashed before he could even figure out what they meant.

“I’ll tell Isaac you said hello,” Derek teased as he stepped out of the door without hearing Cora curse at him. Although Stiles was pretty sure werewolf hearing was a superpower and that he was just so used to his sisters swearing at him, he didn’t need to respond to win whatever argument he had just started.

“Got any other family members I need to worry about?” Stiles asked as Laura moved him over to the couch. She shrugged and grabbed the remote, tossing on some dumb reality TV show he had realized Laura found authentic entertainment in.

“Uncle Peter will probably try to hit on you at dinner, but he’s relatively harmless,” Cora noted from where she had settled on one of the many chairs that littered the living room.

“Relatively?” Stiles repeated and the girl’s laughter did nothing to relieve his anxiety.

——————————

The rest of the afternoon was surprisingly normal. Stiles wasn’t sure what to expect when meeting his platonic soulmate’s family, who happened to be made up of supernatural beings, but relaxing definitely hadn’t come to mind. That’s exactly what it had been, though. He lounged on the sofa with Laura, draped over each other the way they usually were - Laura had said it was something about scent and how if he wanted to be protected, he would need the Hale smell on him - and every so often, Cora, Talia, or Evan would come in and get to know Stiles a little more.

He told them all about his childhood and how he hadn’t changed much since then, which none of them were too surprised about. He recounted memories of his father being the sheriff and his mother and her untimely death, all of which had Talia gazing at him with sympathy that had tied his stomach in knots. In return, they told him stories of their territory battles and how Beacon Hills law enforcement had always worked side by side with them. Stiles was glad there wouldn’t be an issue between their families as he had previously worried.

Throughout the afternoon, he had to push thoughts of Derek out of his mind. Their interaction had been short and not at all sweet, but something about the man had Stiles’ eyes darting to the door as if waiting for him to return. He said he would be back for their dinner and Talia had just announced that it was about 15 minutes from being done, so his fingers tapped anxiously on his knees as he tried his hardest to breathe.

“Alright, what the hell is going on with you?” Laura asked once they were alone in the living room. Cora had been tasked to set the table while Talia and Evan worked on finishing the meal and Stiles was all alone with someone who could read him like a book.

He sighed and said, “I’m a little nervous for this dinner.” It was a lie and judging by the glare that Laura gave him, she sniffed it out immediately.

“You haven’t been nervous the entire time you’ve been hanging out with my family, so there’s something else,” Laura guessed. Just as Stiles was about to deny, the front door flung open and Stiles shot up from his seat to greet the new guest he had hoped was Derek. He was, once again, disappointed when the person who sauntered in wasn’t the man he was waiting for.

“Who is this delectable little thing?” The man said and Stiles furrowed his eyebrows in distaste. Laura groaned from beside him and took a protective step forward.

“This is Stiles. Stiles, my uncle Peter. He’s going to go tell my parents he’s here and stop licking his muzzle in the direction of my soulmate,” Laura said sharply, raising an intimidating eyebrow at Peter. He sighed but relented, floating over to the kitchen without another glance back. “You thought that was gonna be Derek,” Laura accused as she turned toward Stiles and pressed a stiff finger against his chest.

“I wasn’t expecting your creepy uncle, that much is for sure. What is his problem?” Stiles asked as a lame attempt to bring the conversation back away from who he may or may not have hoped was coming through the door.

“Peter is Peter. Harmless but a lot to get used to,” Laura said with a roll of her eyes. She pushed her finger further into Stiles’ chest and asked, “Were you hoping that was gonna be Derek?”

Stiles sighed, exasperated, and pushed her hand away. “So what if I did?” Stiles asked heatedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s got a soulmate that isn’t me because I’m stuck with your sorry ass and I’m allowed to find people who look like him attractive.”

“Derek doesn’t--” She stopped whatever she was about to admit and sighed heavily. “I can’t believe my platonic soulmate has the hots for my brother,” she said with a cringe. Stiles shoved her playfully and Laura’s eyes lit up golden before she pushed him back just a little too hard. He started falling backward, tripping over his feet because his balance was honestly laughable, and braced himself for impact to the hardwood floor. Instead, he fell into a hard wall and warm, solid arms wrapped around his waist.

“Aren’t you trying to keep the human alive?” Derek’s voice chimed from behind him. Stiles was momentarily stunned by the feeling of Derek’s arms holding up that he forgot how to stand until Derek pushed him back to his feet. He stumbled forward into Laura who growled at him in response.

“At the moment, I’m debating on just killing him and having him for dinner instead of the pot roast Mom made us,” Laura said with a glare at Stiles. Derek seemed to freeze at Laura’s words which didn’t go unnoticed by anyone in the room. Laura said quickly, “Derek, I didn’t mean--”

“It’s fine, Lo. I’m gonna go get changed for dinner,” Derek dismissed as he bounded up the stairs. Stiles turned toward Laura and saw an excessive amount of guilt on her face.

“What was that?” Stiles asked carefully, resting a comforting hand on Laura’s shoulder. Her eyes didn’t stray for the staircase Derek had disappeared from until she shook her head and took a deep breath in.

“That was me taking our soul bond for granted,” Laura whispered as she pulled Stiles into a tight hug. He could practically feel his bones crush with the force of it and choked out a nervous laugh as he patted Laura on the back.

“Puny human, here. Can’t take much more of--” Laura let go and Stiles inhaled deeply to catch his breath. Laura glanced at him apologetically before pushing past Stiles to move toward the kitchen. “Wait, Laura, I can feel the guilt echoing off of you. What do you think you did wrong?” Stiles asked, grabbing for Laura’s hand. She shook it away before staring at Stiles with the most serious expression he had ever seen from her.

“I know I did something wrong and I need you to not ask questions, okay? It’s Derek’s story and if he trusts you enough, he’ll tell you,” Laura decided with a nod. Stiles agreed and pulled her in for one more hug before she dragged him to the kitchen. “Ma, Daddio, Derek’s home so we should sit,” she said as if nothing was weighing on her. Stiles wondered if he would ever get used to being so attuned to her vast array of emotions.

“I hope you like to eat, Stiles, Mom’s made enough to feed an army!” Cora joked as she made her way to the table balancing two plates expertly in her hands. Stiles reached for one to assist her and Cora beamed a smile at him. He took a moment to notice just how beautiful the entire family was and thought that fate must have known he’d never have a chance with Laura which was why their bond was strictly platonic.

Derek chose that moment to walk in, a much neater outfit on his body. Stiles found himself annoyed at how quickly his heart skipped a beat at the new view. Derek was wearing black jeans that rested snug on his hips and a dark blue t-shirt, but somehow he still looked dressed up. Laura nudged her hip against his and Derek smiled over at her like it was all they needed to forgive and forget. She made her way over to where Stiles stood frozen and flicked at his chin causing him to smack her hand.

“Close your mouth, Stilinski. Werewolf dens aren’t immune to fly infestations,” Laura teased with a wink. Stiles rolled his eyes at her but made sure his lips were pressed together tightly as he rested the plate on the table. He pulled out the seat beside Laura and before he could sit down, Cora slid into place, thanking Stiles as if he had prepared the chair just for her.

“I have to sit next to my dad,” Cora supplied as if it was the truth, “since I’m such a daddy’s girl.” Laura cackled beside her and Stiles pretended not to notice the sly smile on Derek’s face from where he had sat down. With Laura and Cora on one side of the table, their parents on either end and Peter taking the only other chair that seemed appropriate for Stiles, he had no choice but to occupy the seat next to Derek. Great.

The moment he sat down, Peter chimed in, “So, Stiles Stilinski. Tell us more about yourself.” Stiles wasn’t sure how such a normal command sounded so gross coming from Peter’s lips. He glanced around the table and caught Laura’s eyes, hoping the stare was enough of a plea for help for her to intervene.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Uncle Peter. The interrogation isn’t necessary,” she said with an expert roll of her eyes.

“Then is he single?” Peter asked, staring Laura down like Stiles was some sort of competition. Stiles felt immediately uneasy until Laura’s chest rumbled lowly.

“Peter, please. The boy has just turned 18,” Talia chastised, but there was no heat in it. Stiles didn’t think it was possible for her to be an alpha with the kindness she had displayed.

“18 means legal big sister,” Peter said as he took a sip of the wine Stiles wasn’t sure he should be drinking. He shuddered when he thought of how even more brash Peter could be with a bottle of wine in his system. “I’m not asking for me, anyway,” Peter said with a shrug, leaning forward to glance over at Derek.

“Can’t we just have one dinner without you making-- No, wait,” Laura said, interrupting herself as she grabbed a shovel of mashed potatoes, “I take that back. Can’t we just have one dinner without you? Full stop.” Peter scowled at her, but Stiles was a little too focused on how he went out of his way to look at Derek. He didn’t know much about werewolves, but there must have been something obvious in the air for Peter to make such a large jump when he had only been in the house for that short of a time.

“Stiles, we are dying to know,” Talia began as she put way too many peas onto his plate. Her smile was too bright and the food smelled too delicious for him to ask her to stop. “How did your father react when he found out Laura was your soulmate?”

“Platonic soulmate,” Laura was quick to interject. Derek huffed out a laugh beside him and Stiles couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

Stiles ignored the outburst and said, “Well, at first, he was confused. From his history with your family, he was pretty sure Laura was… not interested.”

“Which is very true,” Laura interrupted again. Stiles threw a pea at her, ignoring her cry of protest before he continued.

“Then he was just amused because, and I think this is a direct quote, ‘she’s going to chew you up and spit you out and you’re going to let her’,” Stiles finished with a wink at Cora. She blushed and laughed, hiding her face when her dad shot an accusatory glance at her.

“Our Laura would never,” Talia said but it was clear in her tone that she figured that’s exactly what would have happened if their soulmate bond was anything more than platonic. Stiles still thought that she was gonna destroy him any chance she got, but she didn’t scare him much anymore. He knew she was secretly looking for acceptance and Stiles was the one to give her that unconditionally.

“Speaking of spitting,” Peter said with a sly grin on his face. At that comment, Derek’s growl seemed to echo around the room.

“Peter,” he said so lowly that Stiles almost missed it even though he was sitting right next to Derek. Peter must have heard it loud and clear judging by the way his face turned to stone. It was almost like--

“Of course, Alpha,” Peter spat, slamming his fork down on the plate. “I wouldn’t want to challenge you for a mate again. We all know how that went last time,” Peter said and Stiles was sure he could hear a pin drop with the silence that enveloped the room. Before he could try to break the tension with one of his jokes, Laura shot out of her seat, wielding a steak knife in her hand, and if Stiles had thought she was intimidating before, he was positive of it then.

“Laura, no.” Stiles almost didn’t recognize the voice as Talia’s, the stern tone and growl that seemed to rumble table so unlike what he had seen from her before.

“He knows it’s off limits, Mom. He’s lucky we even let him in here after what he did to--”

“Laura, enough!” Talia shouted, her eyes flashing red as Laura seemed to crumble back into her seat. Stiles could feel her submission through their bond and it knocked the breath out of him. It wasn’t until Derek’s hand rested on his shoulder that he was able to gulp in enough air to have his head stop spinning.

“Peter--” Evan spat, but before he could continue, Derek was shaking his head and standing. His eyes darted from each face at the table, skipping Peter’s but lingering a little longer on his than Stiles thought was warranted. There was something about the way Derek’s palm slid from the fabric of his shirt and down his arm before resting at his side that had a chill racing down Stiles’ body.

“I’m gonna go for a run or-- Just, enjoy your meal,” Derek muttered. He glanced at Stiles and whispered, “It was nice to meet you. I’m glad Laura has--” his breath stuttered, “--has someone.” Stiles nodded and watched Derek until he reached the door, hoping he would glance back so Stiles could take it as an invitation and follow him. His hand hesitated on the doorknob, but he pulled the door open and shut it softly behind him.

“Mom, as a member of your pack and your daughter, I can’t keep staying silent while Peter hurts my brother,” Laura said, her voice surprisingly steady as her eyes flashed. Talia nodded and held eye contact with Evan like a silent agreement was being made between them. He wondered if that’s how all romantic soulmates were with each other and felt his heart constrict at the fact that may never apply to him.

Laura was staring at him when he looked away from her parents and he realized they had it, too. He knew every emotion that was swirling around inside of her - the hurt, the sadness, the sheer anger directed at Peter, they want to follow where her brother had disappeared to - like it was his own and rested a hand against the mark on his skin. It was something he had resented for so long when he met Laura and figured out she wouldn’t be the love of his life. He couldn’t find himself to hate it at that moment, though. Not when his heart yearned for Derek and the family he had only just met.

“I’ve allowed you in this pack, Peter, because you are blood. You are the only family from my past that I have left,” Talia began as she stood, shuffling over to Peter to hold his face in her hands, “but the family that is my future can never accept you as theirs.” Peter blanched at the statement as if he had never thought Talia would say those words. Stiles didn’t have it in him to feel bad after what he had just witnessed.

“You can’t be serious, Lia. I can’t control how your little brat feels about his past. You all treat him as if his past will haunt him forever when I’m merely trying to--”

“Enough,” Talia whispered. Even with the soft tone of her voice, Stiles knew she wouldn’t let him keep speaking. “Peter Hale, you are no longer allowed on the territory of the Beacon Hills Pack, as proclaimed by the Alpha, Talia Hale.”

Howls erupted through the room and Stiles thought he heard a distant sorrowful one from outside. Laura’s heart burst in her chest and Stiles felt it from where he had pushed back his seat away from the siblings. He shot a glance at her out of the corner of his eye and saw tears bubbling in them. He wasn’t sure he would ever see Laura emotional, but he was glad the first time was for family. Fate had gotten something right when he paired them, Stiles thought happily.

“I’ll be gone by midnight,” Peter choked out, and then he was gone. The room silenced like a dark cloud had suddenly appeared and Talia dropped into her seat with a sigh.

“Mom, I--” Laura began, but Talia’s eyes flashed red. Stiles didn’t see anger in them as he expected. He wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, but from what he had heard from Laura, Peter was the worst person she had ever met and Stiles was glad to be rid of him. Talia might not feel the same as he was family and Stiles couldn’t imagine the pain she must have felt.

“Derek?” Cora nodded and closed her eyes, her chin tilting down slowly. Stiles knew she was listening for him, trying to sense his mood and whereabouts with her werewolf ability. He would have been impressed if he wasn’t still shocked.

“He’s at the treehouse,” Cora whispered as she stood. “I can--”

“Can I?” Stiles asked, shooting up from his seat. All four eyes locked on his and he wasn’t sure who to look at it. The bond pulsing on his skin had him subconsciously choosing Laura, which he figured he would have to get used to. “I just-- I don’t know what happened. I don’t need an explanation,” Stiles said quickly as all of their mouths moved to open, “but I would like to talk to Derek. You all saw what I did and for some reason he… trusts me. Can I be the one to make sure he’s okay?”

Talia nodded slowly and rested her hand on Laura’s as if to calm her. He could feel her confusion and what he thought might be jealousy, but he brushed it aside. If he wanted answers, Derek was going to be the one to give them to him. That much was made clear in the last few minutes.

“Where do I go?” Stiles asked as he reached the door. Laura considered answering him, but Cora beat her to it.

“Behind the house. Walk directly straight for about a minute and it’ll be on your right. It’s the only treehouse out there,” Cora said. Stiles winked back at her and a blush covered her cheeks as she waved him away. He sent one more glance at Laura and was surprised by her encouraging nod before he shut the door behind him.

He wasn’t sure what he would say and that was his first problem. He could tell Derek that Peter was kicked out, but by the howl he had heard in the woods, he had already made the connection. He would ask Derek what the hell just happened, but Stiles wasn’t sure brazen was the way to go with Derek. Maybe he would just sit next to him and wait for Derek to do the talking. He thought about that option for a second before remembering the countless times Laura ran conversations with him and he was happy to listen. If he recalled correctly, that day was the first time he had actually heard a full sentence out of Derek in the time he had known Laura.

All too suddenly, Stiles realized just how different they were. He didn’t know what he felt for Derek or what the night had started, but he wasn’t the kind of person to let it go. He figured Derek might be, but if he thought that Stiles was going to leave without having answers, he had another thing coming.

“I can hear you thinking from all the way up here,” Derek’s voice split through the silence of the forest. Stiles jumped and held in the yelp that threatened to escape his lips. He heard a small huff of laughter from above and flinched when a rope ladder dropped a few feet in front of him.

“I thought it was gonna be a lot harder to convince you to let me up there,” Stiles said, huffing as he attempted to climb the rope. He wasn’t out of shape by any means, but climbing was never something he was good at. He remembered being almost as uncoordinated as Erica on the rope at school before she got the bite.

“You seem like the type that would find his way up even if I didn’t want you here,” Derek noted as he threw his hands on the wooden platform to pull himself fully into the house. He took a deep breath in and sat up so he was facing Derek. He was surprised to see peace in his light eyes that reflected the sunset out the side of the treehouse beautifully.

“Do you want me here?” Stiles asked carefully, moving to glance at the view. It was breathtaking and not at all what Stiles had expected. The placement was perfect for the sunset peeking through the large trees that surrounded the preserve and shined off the small pond Stiles hadn’t known was hidden behind their home. “Wow,” he couldn’t stop himself from whispering. Derek nodded in agreement and leaned back on his hands.

After a few moments of silence, Derek said, “I’m not gonna kick you out.” It wasn’t exactly the answer he had wanted, but it was kinder than he expected. He settled back on his hands, matching Derek’s position as they watched the sun fall behind the trees together. “I’m sorry for what happened,” Derek whispered. The admission shocked Stiles more than almost anything had that night. First, because Derek didn’t strike him as an apologetic type, and second, because Derek thought he had anything to apologize for.

“Your Uncle Peter is a real dick,” Stiles said before he could stop himself. He slammed his palm over his mouth, but before he could apologize, Derek’s laughter filled the air. Stiles pushed back the way his heart seemed to always stutter at the sound.

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, “he really is.”

There were a few moments of silence that Stiles used to think of what he could possibly say next. It was obvious there was a story as to why Laura reacted so strongly to Peter and that it was enough to cast Peter out of the town and out of the pack. Stiles didn’t know much about werewolf politics other than what he gathered from the files he had snuck peeks at in the past, but that wasn’t something that was taken lightly. Derek sighed heavily next to him and cleared his throat as darkness fell over them. Stiles was sad to see the sunset disappear, but the stars that started sparkling through the sky almost made the disappearing view worth it.

“Do you love Laura?” Derek asked and Stiles choked at the question.

He sputtered out, “Excuse me?” Derek sighed again, more annoyed that time, and turned toward Stiles.

“I know you’re her soulmate--”

“Platonic,” Stiles interrupted before Derek could finish. Derek shot him a deadly glare which had him pressing his lips together nervously.

“Even platonic soulmates must feel love for one another, right?” Stiles was a bit scared to speak, so he nodded his head and couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at his lips. “I love Laura, too. She’s my sister, but more than that, she’s the most stubborn, hard headed, independent, kind, strong woman I’ve ever had in my life.” Stiles nodded quickly in return. Laura was the best and they undoubtedly agreed on that.

“There are times when I wish our bond wasn’t platonic,” Stiles began and Derek’s raised eyebrow told him his interpretation of Stiles’ admission was a lot different than Stiles meant. “No, no, no, I don’t wanna like bang your sister, man,” Stiles said, but at Derek’s blank look, he realized those weren’t exactly the most comforting words either. “What I mean to say,” Stiles took a deep breath, “is that your sister was a surprise to me. Our connection is stronger than I’ve seen with even the most romantic of soulmates. I’m here for the long haul whether you or your family - or anyone else for that matter - like it or not.”

He said the words with such conviction, he hoped Derek heard the sincerity in them. Even if Derek wasn’t going to bear his soul right then and there to someone he had really just met, he needed Derek to know that he would find out eventually. Derek would trust Stiles implicitly and it was only a matter of time. He had wormed his way into Laura’s life, charmed her into loving him right back, and he would do the same to Derek because he had to.

It might have been the way his stomach seemed to tremble or the way his heart clenched in his chest or even the way that being so close to Derek with only the night sky giving them any semblance of light had his entire body shivering, as if it anticipated his entire life changing. It could have been the way Derek was watching him so carefully, like he was deciding if Stiles was telling the truth, or the way his shoulders relaxed when he saw whatever he was searching for in Stiles’ gaze.

“Our family hasn’t had the best luck when it comes to soulmate bonds,” Derek began and Stiles let out the breath he was all too aware he was holding. “My mom never had a soulmate and she was happy about it until she met my dad. His soulmate was the love of his life and my mom sat back and befriended them because she wanted him in her life. When he lost his soulmate to a rogue wolf, he didn’t know how to move on. My mom helped him through it and even though they weren’t fated, they ended up together with the same amount of love most soulmates feel for each other.”

Stiles nodded and whispered, “That’s incredibly romantic.” Derek laughed in return and shook his head.

“They had their battles. Mom was an alpha werewolf and dad had barely just been bitten. It was tough for them but they believed that soulmate bonds weren’t the be all end all to how much love someone had to give. It was the only thing that got me through when I--” Derek cleared his throat and Stiles could hear the tears building in his throat.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Stiles whispered, reaching over to rest his hand on top of Derek’s softly. It was so similar to the way Derek comforted him during dinner and Stiles’ mind reeled with what it could mean. They had only known each other for a few hours at most and they both had eased into comforting one another already. It surprised and intrigued Stiles, but his mind was too focused on the trust that Derek was displaying as he shook his head abruptly.

“Like you said, you’re here to stay whether we like it or not, right?” Stiles nodded and said nothing further, urging Derek to continue with a squeeze of his hand. “I met my soulmate in high school. Her name is-- was Paige. I knew I was one of the lucky ones to meet my soulmate so early in life. We had the rest of forever to spend with each other and I was so in love with her.” Derek let out a choked laugh and ran his free hand through his hair. He didn’t try to remove his hand from underneath Stiles’ but turned it over instead. Stiles traced the lines of his palm with his fingertips delicately.

“So fate got it right?” Stiles asked with a smile.

Derek nodded and continued, “Everyone thought we were perfect for each other. I was extroverted and sporty, she was more introverted and loved to lock herself in a room to practice her cello. I thrived on time spent with my friends and she loved spending time with just me. We were the definition of opposites attract and we--” He broke off with another shake of his head. “I believed in soulmates just as much as the next person, but I also knew that sometimes fate was wrong.

“I mean, I looked at my parents and how much they loved each other and I would never cheapen that the way others had, but fate had perfected the match between Paige and I. Before we even graduated, we were planning our future together.” He went quiet, staring up at the stars like they held all the answers to a question Stiles was too afraid to ask. The silence in the air was heavy and Stiles broke it with a hefty breath.

“What happened?” Stiles asked softly, lacing his fingers with Derek to try and provide whatever comfort he could. Derek’s small smile warmed Stiles’ heart as he waited for the story he had been intrigued to hear.

“Peter happened,” Derek spat before taking a deep breath. “He is only a few years older than me and he set his sights on Paige, too. Even though she was my soulmate, he was sure that her kindness meant that they should be together so he challenged me for her. Soulmate bonds aren’t just for werewolves…” Derek trailed off, gesturing toward Stiles who huffed out a laugh.

“Obviously,” he agreed with a scrunch of his nose.

“But werewolves take them more seriously than humans. We mate for life more times than not, but Peter grew up with his sister and her husband defying all of the odds and he just couldn’t let it go.” Stiles could tell that even recalling the event was becoming too much for Derek to handle and opened his mouth to stop him. He didn’t need to hear more if it meant that Derek would continue sounding as broken as he did. Derek squeezed Stiles' hand and leveled him with an almost pleading glance.

“Okay,” Stiles muttered as he prepared himself for what he thought would be a tragic story.

Derek sat up a little straighter and squeezed Stiles’ hand tighter before he started again, “Peter wasn’t born with a soul mark and to him, that meant his mate was his choosing. It didn’t matter that the person standing in his way was his family - someone I considered my best friend - he was blinded by the good that Paige was that he would never be. Paige didn’t want to tear us apart, but I didn’t realize at that time just how much. She was going to leave Beacon Hills and break our bond so that our family, our pack, wouldn’t be broken. That wasn’t on her, but that’s just who she was a person, you know?”

“She sounds selfless,” Stiles commented and that made Derek smile again which Stiles was grateful for.

“She was. And Peter was the opposite. He was waiting outside of her house when she walked out with her bags packed and they had an argument. He said it was innocent - that he was begging her to stay with him - and somehow, the tripped and her head slammed against the stonewall lining her driveway.” Derek shuttered and Stiles had to hold back all of the questions he had. Did he think Peter murdered her? Did he see her? Did he get to say goodbye?

He stayed mostly silent, muttering a brief, “I’m sorry.” As if it would do anything to ease Derek’s pain.

“I hated Peter, but he was family and one of the only blood pack members my mother had left. I saw her struggle with the decision to exile him back then and I can’t imagine the hurt she is feeling right now,” Derek said, guilt clear in his tone. He pressed his hand against his heart and Stiles felt his own tightening in his chest.

“He doesn’t deserve to be here with you,” Stiles said and the words were angrier than he had meant them to be. “I’ve known Laura for a while and the rest of you for only a night, but I knew from the second I met you that the tragedy you went through hasn’t broken you.” Derek looked as if he was about to argue and Stiles took a chance, resting his free palm on Derek’s cheek. He was surprised to find it dry as even Stiles’ eyes were tearing at the story.

“I tried for so long to push aside the pain and anger I felt toward Peter, but for some reason, I feel ashamed that my past is what tore my family apart,” Derek admitted, looking anywhere but Stiles’ face. The hand that rested on Derek’s cheek pushed just enough for their eyes to connect and Stiles tilted his head consideringly at Derek.

“Peter tore your family apart by ripping Paige away from you. And from what I saw tonight, he continued to poke and prod at your happiness in order to prove that he was somehow superior. You have done nothing but forgive someone I never would have. In fact,” Stiles said, clearing his throat, “I probably would have punched the guy if it wasn’t for the fact I was meeting your parents for the first time.”

Derek’s laughter was real and raw, only slightly drowned by unshed tears as he asked, “Oh, yeah? What makes you think you would have done any damage?” Stiles considered the question and shrugged.

“I wouldn’t have made a dent in him. But I’ve been told I’m good at provoking people so best case scenario, he would have gone after me and I had at least 4 werewolves ready to attack when he did,” Stiles said with a coy smile. Derek shook his head and reached up to take Stiles’ hand on his face in his own.

“We wouldn’t have let anything happen to you,” Derek admitted and Stiles knew it was the truth.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have. Just like you wouldn’t have let anything bad happen to Paige and how even through your own suffering, you didn’t let it tear your family apart,” Stiles urged. Stiles was sure if he could see Derek more clearly, there would be a blush on his cheeks and the thought made him a bit giddy even with the heavy conversation behind them. “Look, I don’t know you yet, and there was a while in there where I thought I never would,” Stiles began, holding Derek’s hands tightly in his, “but I would like to. I mean, I know what is possibly the most traumatic thing that ever happened to you, so we can only go up from here, right?” Derek smiled wider and Stiles grinned right back.

“I don’t see the harm in that,” Derek muttered. He stood up slowly, gesturing to the opening of the treehouse for Stiles to make his way down. “I can hear Laura pacing from out here. We should…” Stiles took Derek’s outstretched hand in his and nodded.

“Yeah…” Stiles trailed off, pulling Derek back to facing him when he started to drop the ladder. “Hey, Derek?” Stiles asked, gulping when he saw the moonlight reflecting in Derek’s eyes.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered and Stiles thought that he could get used to Derek saying his name like that. It was soft and sultry when he wasn’t even trying. Stiles briefly considered how it would sound when he did try.

“Thank you for telling me,” Stiles said, his lips pulling back into a shy smile before he could stop them. Derek huffed out what sounded like a relieved laugh and squeezed Stiles’ hand in his.

“Laura’s lucky to have you,” Derek responded, but Stiles knew it was as much of a thank you as Derek could probably give.

“Well, I’m feeling pretty lucky, too,” Stiles muttered as he watched Derek lower himself from the treehouse. He was grateful that his extremely platonic soulmate was Laura because that meant he would never be rid of Derek. Derek who he could see becoming friends with, who he could see annoying until he was red in the face, who he could see himself falling in love with… “Yeah, I’m really lucky.”

#sterek #stiles & laura #stiles stilinski #derek hale #laura hale #platonic soulmates #my writing #evanesdust #thank you so much for your support!!#i hope you enjoy this rendition of your amazing idea!! <3

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poptod · 4 years

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Hi I hope ur having a great day! I love ur writing so freaking much! This request is a little different than what I’m sure ur used to but hopefully ur comfortable enough with writing it. Could u write a one shot (or headcanons if it’s easier) where Snafu from the Pacific is crushing big time on the reader (like almost in love) and he’s always hitting on her but she never shown any interest toward him. Then a few days in when the nurses come Snafu walks in on the reader making out with one of the nurses. They see each other and he walks out all like CONFUSED and shook and the reader runs after him to swear him to secrecy. He’s still shook and admits his feelings and she comes out as a lesbian to him. He’s even more SHOOK but he’s rly understanding and accepting even tho he’s incredibly heartbroken. Sorry if it’s not what u usually write, as a bi I’m just always a sucker for “I’m dumb she’s a lesbian”

notes: anon i love you you're literally perfect WC: 1.9k

He was used to this sort of behavior when he first met girls – curt and rude, meant to pry his eyes off their figure. Eventually though, after time, he would win their affection through his shining personality (or, at least, that's what he thought happened). Usually it only took about a week or less; he was good at what he did. This was ridiculous, though – he was ranging on the sixth week of knowing you. That's one and a half months, far above his usual score.

But you're beautiful. Even if you won't share a genuine conversation with him, you 'let' him watch you, allowing yourself to become his only source of entertainment on the island. The shine in your hair – always neatly pulled back – is a fantastic distraction from the blisters on his palms and the heat of his sunburnt skin.

You're the last piece of humanity here. It makes sense he would never be able to win you.

Today you're tending to his wounds, an activity he thought he would never love as much as he does. Your fingers are still soft somehow, brushing against the exposed skin of his arms, sliding over the bandages to ensure they won't slip. The concentration evident in your sharp eyes is revealed in the way you bite your lip, gaze never leaving the bloody blisters on his hands.

"Not for nothin' babe, but," he began to speak, voice raspy and dry, "last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid."

You very slowly raise your head, reluctantly meeting his eye with a dead stare.

"Not today, Snafu," you say.

"Tomorrow then?"

You scoff, shake your head, almost laugh, but in the end you say nothing. Instead you return to your work, diligently cleaning the scabs and covering them up. He can't say he minds––whether or not you truly engaged with him, he heard your voice, and felt your touch. That would be enough. For now.

Surprisingly enough, they still get to have movie night sometimes. That doesn't mean the movies are good, but they're generally more entertaining than watching the shore birds. Every now and then, Snafu will even go and join his tent mates, ogling more at the nurses than paying attention to the actual movie. Those are always good nights, and the forest is close enough that it's not a problem if he gets too excited.

Tonight's movie is titled 'Godzilla Goes to College,' and upon hearing the name Snafu knew he would not be able to attend a full hour of it. Instead he wanders around the encampment, watching shadow silhouettes and the movement of the breeze on tent flaps. The sound of shuffling catches his ear, and when he turns, he's pleasantly surprised to find you beside him, drowning in an oversized jacket. He laughs, loud and probably impolite, but the juxtaposition of him being shirtless beside you truly tickles him.

"Evenin', doll," he says through his laughter, stopping you in the middle of the pathway. A soft groan leaves you as you turn to face him.

"And good night," you say in a too-cheery tone, your saccharine smile instantly falling into a dead stare as you go back to walking, a renewed vigor in your step.

"Hey, where y' goin' in such a hurry?" He asks, and begins to trail slowly after you. He allows a decent amount of space to grow between you before he continues with, "stay n' chat a minute, cher!"

You don't even bother to respond once you turn the corner, where Snafu loses his trail on you. He curses to himself, turns back around, and finds several of his mates coming back from the movie rather tipsy. How long have they been there?

"Reeaaaall lucky with the girls, aren't'ya, Snaf?" Burgie asks, and the four of them fall into teasing laughter.

"I'll get her, you'll see," he promises, turning back to see if he can glimpse you between all the tents. "One a' these days, she's mine."

Later that evening he sees you again, through the sheer fabric of your tent, where you've been burning a candle. It casts your shadow clearly against the wall, allowing him to see you perfectly.

Snafu likes to claim he isn't a pervert, but most who know him in any way know that's not really true. Sure, he can be a gentleman, but if no one's looking he doesn't especially care. No one but him will know, not even you. Even if he wasn't a pervert, he still wouldn't be able to tear himself away––you're undressing, peeling the clothes off your skin and he can see the whole of your body. In outline, of course, but there nonetheless.

Fucking creep, he tells himself, calls himself, but he doesn't cease his staring till you've put out your candle. At that point he can no longer see you, and he returns to his own tent with fantasies circling his head like vultures.

It's not that you're particularly rude to him. You just don't engage or indulge any of his bullshit, which is fair enough he thinks. He has a lot of bullshit coming out of his mouth 24/7. Everyone knows that. There's a theory he has, though––a theory he came up with just a little while ago, that you would treat him perfectly normal as long as he didn't come on to you in conversation. If he treated you just like he treated most others, then you might actually be nice to him. You're a good person. You're not going to be needlessly mean.

"Afternoon," he says to you, and he has to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from calling you cher. You quirk one of your brows.

"Afternoon," you repeat back. "Something ailing you?"

"Why'd ya think that?" He asks, slinking into one of the chairs in the aid tent.

"This is a medical tent," you say, and he wants to facepalm himself.

I'm just achin' with love for you, boo, he wants to say, and again, he has to bite his tongue to stop it from coming out. Damn it, he thinks, that's actually a good line.

"So why are you here then?" You ask.

"Better than tryin' ta find somethin' edible in my lunch," he grumbles out, leaning back against the chair and closing his eyes. He lets out a satisfied sigh.

You giggle, you actually laugh from something he did, and say, "understandable. You should still eat, though. Here."

You move from your spot at a nearly-fully stocked tray, instead digging through one of the numerous unlabelled boxes piled like towers in the aid tent. From there you pull out a granola bar, brand name, and throw it at Snafu's face. He nearly falls off balance, but catches it before he loses his cool.

"Thank ya kindly, ma'am," he says with a grin, tipping an imaginary hat your direction. Again you smile; there is nothing better than this, sitting across from you, and being the reason for your happiness.

Eventually he has to leave in order to make room for those who actually do require medical aid, but he leaves singing on a high note. You say good-bye to him this time, for the first time, and a smile tugs at his lips all day. Therein lies the secret to your affection––a blazingly obvious secret that all men should know––that he must treat you as an equal, not size you up to something he can win over, something he can buy with cheap words and undressing eyes.

He thinks it over all day, lets it mull over in his head how he should next approach you. Things get twisted in his mind if he doesn't speak them out loud, and by eveningtime he's convinced that he should meet you tonight, even if it's just him barging into your tent. Politely, of course. A polite barging in.

For a moment he stops, his hand poised above the handle of your tent flap. You're definitely in there––or someone is––as there's shuffling behind the material, a sound he can barely process over the rushing of his heart.

Fuck it, he finally says, and without giving himself a chance to doubt, he pulls open the flap.

You don't even notice him. To be fair, your eyes are closed. And you're a bit preoccupied. Your tongue is pretty far down that nurse's throat.

His mouth falls open as every muscle in his body freezes. It's the other nurse that actually sees him, and she taps you harshly with her wide eyes set on Snafu. You tear yourself away from her touch, turn to the marine, and all the air in the tent goes stagnant.

He leaves. Throws the flap back into place and all but sprints away, wide eyes burning in the cool night air. It's only a second or two of running before he hears the flap open and close again, followed by you yelling something, and ultimately your chasing footsteps.

You end up being surprisingly fast, and you easily catch up to him. Once you do you grab his wrist, tugging him back, and forcing him to face you. Both of your hearts are racing a hundred miles a minute, both of your eyes wide with shock.

"Merriel I am begging you, you cannot tell anyone about this, please, please, you can't, I’ll do anything," you beg him, and it's then he notices there's tears on the edge of your eyes. "Please do this for me, you can't tell anyone. Don't even think about it––just, pretend it never happened?"

He's panting, unable to formulate any response, only able to stare into your panic and sink in the fear pouring out of your desperate eyes.

"(Y/N), I'm––no, I won't," he says at last, and you practically collapse with relief, falling into him with your forehead on his shoulder. He continues in a murmur, awkwardly holding you, "I just... I'm.. I'm in love with you. I––I couldn't do that to you."

"Fuck, I know," you say in a breath, removing yourself to look him in the eye. "But I can't be with you."

You pause, and he waits a moment for you to continue, his brow quirked in curiosity.

"I'm a lesbian, Snafu."

"Oh," he says, but it doesn't process. Not for a minute, anyway. "Oh. Ohh. OHHHH."

"Yeah," you say with a vigorous nod.

"Okay, I thought – I thought I jus’ lost my touch, you're just.. a lesbian, okay," he says, sparking a laugh from you.

"You're not angry?"

"Shit cher, you can't control who you wanna get freaky with jus' as much as I can't," he says, smiling, and the tears in your eyes finally fall. They aren't sad, though––birthed from fear, yes, but falling from happiness.

"You're a lifesaver, Snaf."

As heartbroken as he truly is, none of it really shows in his face. At least now he knows it wasn't really his fault that you didn't show interest in him. Still, disappointment fills up his chest, until you tell him that he makes a good friend. It's then he realizes he can still keep you in his life, a version of modesty and stature and innocence that he can't achieve alone.

He won't ever be able to kiss you, which he does mourn––your lips are painfully soft, and every time he catches sight of them he yearns to press his own against them. Your statement on him works in reverse, though; you're a good friend, and that would be enough for Snafu. But Merriel hides within the bravado, within the suaveness of his voice and actions, and Merriel weeps childish tears that Snafu doesn't know how to wipe away and comfort. Snafu understands the reality of the world, but Merriel will always lament the unfairness of life.

You're the last piece of humanity here. It makes sense Merriel would never be able to win you.

#merriel snafu shelton #snafu x reader #rami malek #the pacific hbo

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frustrated-writer-skyeknight · 3 years

Text

My main Fanfic squad, but as F.r.i.e.n.d.s (so S.q.u.a.d i guess)

Chandler - Hiccup

Monica - Jack

Ross - Jim

Rachel - Dimitri

Joey - Astrid

Phoebe - Jamie

Scene One

Jack: You know I just don't get it. I mean, I didn't plan to quote 'ruin my marriage' unquote shortly after having one. I don't see why I'm the only one getting all the beef when it's Elsa who wanted the divorce to happen so soon.

Jamie: I mean... Mom still doesn't believe you had no idea she was a lesbian.

Jack: No, no. See, the plan was...

Hiccup: There was a plan for this?

Jack: The plan was... After a year, Elsa would file the divorce because 'Jack isn't suitable for marriage life' like I also kept telling our parents. Then, I finally come out to them as gay because 'this experience traumatized me from liking women' instead of saying I've been that way the whole time. Now turns out, she wants a divorce cause she's the gay one.

Hiccup: So you did plan to ruin it anyway?

Jamie: Then, tell mom and dad that.

Jack: I would, but it's Elsa's call and she doesn't really want to come out yet.

Hiccup: So, what are you going to do now?

Jack: Well, for the meantime, I'd be happy not to deal with any talks of my marriage or divorce for now.

Just then, Dimitri walks in during a hot stuffy day, wearing a tuxedo, of all things...

Hiccup: Okay, how about someone else's?

Dimitri: *goes up to the counter* Excuse me, hi. Uh, I'm looking for someone? I'm told they might be here.

Jack: Dimitri?

Dimitri: *turns around* Jack! Thank god. Nevermind, I've found him.

Jack: Why are you dressed that way? Wait, did you commute all the way over here in that?

Dimitri: I don't even have bills that aren't in rubles. I walked.

Jack: On a hot July heat wave? How are you alive?

Dimitri: Man, I don't know. I wish I was dead. I'm not having the best day.

Barista: Can I get you anything?

Jack: Iced tea. Grande size, thanks.

Jack and Dimitri move to the couch and the white haired man started introducing him to his friends...

Jack: Of course, you know Jim.

Dimitri: *elbows Jack roughly*

Jim: *raises a brow*

Jack: ...and you remember my brother, Jamie?

Dimitri: Of course, hey Jamie. Still think my grandpa is the boogeyman?

Jamie: He looks like a skeleton who sold his soul to add flesh over it. Boogeyman is being polite, in his case.

Dimitri snickers in response as he took a spot on the lounge couch while he waited for the iced tea ordered for him...

Jack: So are you actually going to tell us what happened or should I buy you a vowel too?

Dimitri: Okay... So an hour before my wedding, it literally dawned on me I was going to get married to Anastasia Romanov. And it got me thinking... Do I really want to spend the rest of my life as Dimitri Romanov?

Astrid: Huh, nice. Usually, the bride takes the groom's last name. Glad society's evolved enough to let it happen the other way.

Dimitri: *shrugs* Her last name carries more prestige. Which brings me to my next point... The luxurious life is appealing and all but I don't think it's really worth the boredom of putting up with the entitled rich highlanders in the monthly banquets. At least, that's not a life I want.

Hiccup: See, even the only ones who say that are those rich enough to afford saying it.

Astrid: Like you can talk. Your dad's a lawyer. You lived in a big house in the Suburbs in your childhood.

Dimitri: Anyway, long story short, I ran off from my wedding. And I went to where I knew Jack lived, but he wasn't at his flat. So this big guy wilting a piece of wood on the hallway told me I might find him here and you're the only one I know in the city that didn't come to the wedding.

Jack: ... I wasn't invited to the wedding.

Dimitri: What? But mother told me she sent you an invitation.

Jack: And you remember exactly how your folks feel about me, right?

Dimitri: Well, uh, my mother at least seemed convincing that she was making more attempts in being open...

Scene two

Hiccup: Ever notice that the most popular KDramas usually involve love triangles, petty jealousy, and cliché main guy heartthrobs?

Astrid: Maybe the ones you watch? Kingdom isn't like that.

Hiccup: Yeah, but the have the overused zombie infestation plot to make up for it.

Jamie: When will you guys just watch TV shows for their purpose?

Astrid: And what's that?

Jamie: Entertainment.

Hiccup: Well, when it's actually doing its purpose I guess.

Meanwhile, Dimitri was on the phone while Jim went to get a snack from the fridge....

Dimitri: I'm fine, uncle Vlad. And I'll feel much better if I wasn't hearing dad cussing like a sailor in the background. You know what, just put him on and let's get this over with...

Jack pauses his phone streaming Netflix before they all turned to not-so-subtly eavesdrop on Dimitri, even Jim stares at the Russian while nibbling on a muffin...

Dimitri: Yeah, it's m─dad no─Well, if you stop cursing my existence long enough to let me explain─Is mom there? Cause she'd be rubbing soap on your mouth by now!

Jim: Huh, dad troubles. *walks back to the den* Now I see why the Russian ran.

Hiccup: ... In your case, your dad ran though...

Jim: This muffin could be used as a lethal murder weapon, Haddock.

Dimitri: Znayete chto, k chertu eto, ya prosto skazhu eto. I'm gay, and always have been since forever. Even Anya knows!

Jack: Called it.

Hiccup: He was your roommate at college. Of course you called it.

Dimitri: Yeah well, tell mama I love her but screw you pops. It's my life, and I'm gonna live it the way I want...... Well, maybe I don't need your roof to return to. I'll just stay here....... Hey, he may be bottom feeder Jack to you, but he's my friend bottom feeder Jack!

Jack: I guess we established I'm still bottom feeder Jack.

Dimitri: It's my decision now, dad....... Well, maybe I don't want to keep my inherita─ No, no! I said maybe! *face falls and places the phone back on the counter and slumps on a dining room chair* Well, now I'm cut off. Shostakovitch... I don't know if the heatwave is just hitting now, or if I'm having a panic attack...

Jack snaps his fingers and went through the kitchen drawers to take out a paper bag and handed it over to Dimitri, telling him to breathe in and out of it...

Jack: Okay, just take calming breaths buddy. Calm, calm...

Dimitri: *breathing quickly, narrowing his eyes at Jack*

Jack: C'mon, don't look at me like that. Just... You know, think of less stressful thoughts. Think happy thoughts.

Dimitri: *inhales* I am *exhales* drawing a blank... Little help?

Jamie: 🎶Think of a wonderful thought. Any merry little thought... Think of Christmas, think of snow. Think of sleigh bells off you go!🎶

Dimitri: *throws off paper bag* Not like that.

Astrid: *shrugs* Made me happy.

Scene three

Dimitri: So, uh, listen James....

Jim: Dude, Jim is fine.

Dimitri: Right... So, I don't know if you knew this. But back in High school, I had a secret crush on you.

Jim: Oh, I heard of it. Didn't really think it was true, though.

Dimitri: Really? Why not?

Jim: Seriously? With practically everyone and their literal mothers going on about how you were gonna marry Romanov after college? Case in point, what you almost did hours ago. I thought they were just messing with me.

Dimitri: You did? Uh, so... I was wondering... Maybe I could take you out some time? Like... On a date? I mean, after the whole... Runaway groom thing dies down?

Jim: Well, we'll see.

Znayete chto, k chertu eto, ya prosto skazhu eto. - You know what to hell with this I'm just gonna say it.

Used google translate

#Hiccup Haddock #Jack Frost #Dimitri Sudayev #Jim Hawkins #Jamie Bennett #Astrid Hofferson

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gray-is-neutral · 4 years

Text

Supernatural

a fan fiction pt. 5

Dean’s POV.

Jordan and I are secretly drinking buddies. Before Cas came home, I just wanted to escape. I went to a bar to find her at the counter, getting a drink. It wasn’t very strong, but still it was a surprise to see her there.

Turns out she had her own sorrows to drown. She didn’t go into detail, but she didn’t mind getting me drunk for me to talk to her. I had ended up passing out drunk and waking up in her living room. I remembered spilling my guts to almost a complete stranger. It was such an embarrassing and weird experience that I didn’t think to ask why she was here at all. She worked in a different state a week before.

“Look, I know this looks bad,” said Jordan. “But I promise, I never mentioned it because I don’t really hunt anymore,” she said. “Why did you stop?” Sam asked. “I was never all that into it to begin with. That was more of my sisters’ thing,” she said. “Sisters?” I asked.

She glared at me. “Yes, we were the Charlie’s Angels of monster hunting,” she said. “What about angels?” Cas said. “My sisters think a- friend for mine is possessed by an angel,” she said. “I low key thought that they were fucking with me,” she said. “God, this is making my head hurt,” she said.

“Well Kelly Garrett,” I said. “How about I take you home?” I said. “You don’t have to-“ she said. “It’s no problem,” I said. “I’ll clear some more things up on the way,” I said. That was our code. It meant, I want to talk to you. She smiled. “Alright,” she said. She had this pleasantness about her. It was weird. Hell, she’s weird, but for some reason, I trust her.

“It sucks I had to meet you in such a fucked way,” she said to Cas. “Let’s hope we meet again under pleasant and not terrifying situations.” Cas looked confused at her. “See you later Sammy boy, C’mon Deany-baby, I’m tired and I need to talk to my sisters,” she said, walking towards the front door.

How did she know where it was? I pushed that thought from my mind as we went from ear shot and she said, “Clear things up for me.”

I explained to her that Cas was an angel. “Your dead crush was an angel?” she said. “He was dead, but we brought him back,” he said. “What in the actual hell?” “How we did that is too long and it isn’t important,” I said.

“Then what is?” Jordan asked. “First that you never lie to me again,” I said. “That seriously pissed me off,” he said. “Noted, continue,” she said. “And I think that there’s more to your story than you’re letting on,” I said.

Jordan is a weird person, but I’m still weirdly comfortable around her. I trust her. Maybe it’s because she’s kind of like me? “Misery loves company,” she had said one time. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything truer.

“So your sisters, are they-?” “One is a lesbian the other one is off limits. Quit trying to cover your homosexual love by hitting on my sisters. You’ve never even seen them before,” she said looking at me annoyed.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” I asked her. “I’m free now,” she said, thinking what I was thinking as we passed a liquor store.

The next thing I knew, I was drinking on her couch as she played a Bon Jovi song over the radio. “I love this song!” I said. “Hell yeah!” she yelled, taking a swig from a bottle that I couldn’t recognize. She threw a bottle of water at me.

I laughed. “You-you’ve gotta stay hydrated,” she said, drinking some water herself. “Are you sure you wanna do this? I can drink and cry without peeps here. Shouldn’t you be with the guy you raised from the dead?” she said. She was drunk, and so was I. I doubted either of us would remember this in the morning.

“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t face the guilt,” I said as she plopped next to me. “You have to-deal with the guilt before healing can happen,” she said, taking another swig from the bottle. Yes, I get my advice from an alcoholic with a doctor’s degree. Where does she get her advice from? No idea. I think she uses me to ignore her own problems, but when your drunk as Hell and in a safe environment, you tend to not care.

She made shots and said, “Let’s play a game.” “This shit is toxic, but look, it’s all bottled up! No big deal, right?” she said. “Right!” I said. “Wrong!” “You gotta take your toxic shit head on! I want you to name a toxic feeling or traight that is causing you emotions, then put that on the shot. Thus symbolically dealing with it, understand?” she said. I nodded, but to be completely honest, I don’t remember what happened after that.

...

We woke up in my room in the bunker. Apparently I wasn’t as drunk as I had thought. I was in a cold sweat. My heart was pounding. “Dean,” Cas said from the chair in front of my bed. “Cas,” I said, not startled. It was comforting for him to be here.

“You were having a nightmare,” he said quietly. “What time is it?” I asked. “Four in the morning,” he said. He sounded sad, and tired. “Dean?” he said. “Yes?” “Why haven’t you told me to get out?” he asked. “Cas, why would I tell you to get out?” I asked.

“It’s four in the morning. You have been drinking,” he said. I chuckled. “Are you still drunk?” he asked. “No,” I said. He looked at me. “Maybe a little buzzed, but not drunk,” I said. “How did I get home?” I asked. “She brought you home,” he said. “She and Sam are talking in the library,” Cas said. “How she was drunker than I was,” I said. “She said this detox helps,” he said, pointing to the large cup of green stuff on the table.

“That was, nice, what you did for her,” Cas said. “What?” I said. “She told us that she was panicking so you took her to get a drink. That you stayed with her because she was drunk and worried about her friend,” he said, convinced. “That was kind of you,” he said.

She lied let me save face. That story made her sound like a damsel in distress. “But could you call next time?” he asked. He was mad at me. I left him because I was feeling bad. Now I feel worse.

“Drink your un-drunkening liquids and go back to sleep,” Cas said. “Will you be here when I wake up?” I asked. If asked about it later, I could chalk it up to being drunk. “If you want me to,” he said. My face was warm. “Remember Dean, emotions make us human and trying to control them does more bad than good,” I remembered Jordan saying.

“Yes,” I half said, half breathed. “Then I will,” he said. He sat in his chair, but I patted the bed. For a moment I thought he had left. But then I felt pressure at the end of the bed. “This isn’t your normal behavior Dean,” he said. I pretended to be a sleep.

I wanted him to lay with me. I wanted to whisper that I loved him in his ear as he snuggled closer, but this was good for now. Maybe forever. I closed my eyes and slept until about 8:46am.

Cas was gone, but he wasn’t gone for long because the bed was warm where he had been. I got up and read a text from Jordan. “If they ask I was a crybaby last night and hella drunk. You were the kind soul who helped me. K?” I smiled. She was crazy. Stupid, but probably one of my best friends.

I walked out of my room into the kitchen. Sam quickly took out his phone and took a quick picture. “What the hell Sam?” I said. “Dean I think your pants shrunk in the wash?” said Jack. I looked down and to my horror, I was wearing a pear of black leggings that were a few sizes too small.

“So did you two swap manly stories or braid each other’s hair?” Sam asked, having a hell of a kick out of this. “I never thought my brother would be on the walk of shame,” Sam continued. “Any news on the angels that escaped the Empty?” I asked. “Jack said the ones that are a threat are handled. Those who aren’t are having a happy reunion,” said Cas.

He looked me up and down. He actually laughed. “Dean please put on your own clothes,” said Sam. “Those leggings are only so strong,” he said. “Shut up,” I said. This is embarrassing. I don’t even know how I ended up in her leggings. What happened to my clothes?

“Do you think she’ll want them back?” Sam asked. “I don’t know, they might be a little stretched out,” said Cas. They were just messing around, but this was not the best place to be in. “Back to the things that escaped the Empty,” I said. “No big bad escaped?” I asked. “Nothing we can’t or haven’t handled before,” said Sam.

I nodded, and I bent over to pick up one of my shirts when the leggings ripped. Sam started laughing his ass off, and soon, so was Cas. I didn’t find it very funny, so I left the room with my dignity in shambles in search of pants. “You might want to tell her she won’t be getting her clothes back!” called Sam. “Fuck off!” I yelled at him.

It was bad enough that Cas came to my room last night and I had asked him to stay. Now I’m in ripped leggings and I’m too embarrassed to come up with a joke or come back. Dad would roll in his grave if he knew I ended up like this. What would he do if he knew I was in love with another man?

I tried not to think about it. I try not think about Dad when I thought of the impala. I try not to think about him when I thought about Mom, or Bobby, or Sam. I don’t like to think about him. I don’t have to think about him either. I don’t have to think about the first and last time I kissed a boy. I don’t have to think about the conversation, the trouble I was in. I’m a grown man now, and Dad is dead. I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I know this is true, so why do I always feel this constant dread?

I got some real clothes on, and I walked into the kitchen. “Hey do you want to go on a hunt?” Sam asked. “A hunt? Like now?” I said. “I thought it might be good,” said Cas. “Just a small, easy hunt,” said Sam. I thought about it and said, “Where?” I asked. “Ohio,” said Sam. “People are dying from suffocation,” he said. “What makes that us?” I asked. “They’re suffocating from flowers in their lungs,” Sam said.

“We think that it’s a curse,” said Cas. “Seems worth checking out,” I said. “To Ohio boys!” I said. “Don’t forget to pack your tights!” Sam said running off to get his stuff together. I hoped I wasn’t as red as I felt and went to get my things.

#destiel #drunk dean #dean x castiel #dean x cas #dean's pov #leggings #annoying little brother #drunk therapist #lgbtq #drunken #i tried very hard #i am very sorry #John sucks

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bow-woahh · 4 years

Note

If you’re still doing the game, chapter 6 from the grocery store onward?

Send me your favorite scene/chapter from one of my works and I’ll post a DVD commentary on it.

ask and you shall receive!

Little bit of background info, this chapter is obviously part one of two, chapter six being it's better if I calm down, and chapter 7 being the rest of the line: it's better if I lash out. If you listened to the song full stop, you might have already known that lmao

I felt like these two chapters worked well being split into two parts (I mean imagine how long it would have been if it wasn't ... like no thank you) because of the overarching themes across them and most importantly, the plot line with her mom and the readers not knowing what's putting her on edge in chapter 6. It was so much fun to play around with and hint that there was clearly something bothering her. I think in my outline, before I found the official title this chapter was called "calm before the storm" because that truly is what it is, there's a lot of nice, fun moments, but it's clear there is something bad on the way.

Anyway, tangent over, commentary time!

They caught a bus to get to the closest grocery store, which was still a twenty minute journey away, so Catra ignored Diego for most of the ride, listening to music and texting Adora.

When I was originally outlining chapters and everything, the grocery scene wasn't planned in to this chapter (I just love giving myself more to do). I have a section in my outline document where it's kinda just a thought dump of things I want to happen possibly at some point, because I think it'd be cool or cute or whatever. This was one of those instances, and because this chapter felt a bit bare bones at first (the final product was not in the slightest) I added this in as it felt like a great way to introduce Adora and Diego and since Catra and Adora are still fairly early in their relationship here, it just worked so well, because they truly didn't expect to see each other.

“Hey, hi! I knew you said you were going shopping, but I didn’t think—well I guess it does make sense since you live in Alwyn but—”

Okay, time for context no one asked for! Bright Moon is the city they are in (obviously) and Frighton (the Fright Zone) is the neighbouring city. Bright Moon is kinda split into lower city, upper city and mid/center city (guess which kinda classes live where). Alwyn and Elberon (where Catra and Adora live respectively) are more lower city, so they are typically where poorer people live, though there are some nice places there I'm sure. Just not many.

Adora said, “Loser? Nah, Catra’s actually super cool, trust me.” She looked at Adora, properly, for the first time in a few minutes, and found her staring back at her with a fond smile.

Adora's piss poor attempt at flirting. Jk, but I do think this moment is v cute and I just love how Adora defended Catra, even though it's just her younger cousin being stupid. We love to see it.

Once again Diego beat her to it, opening the door and saying, “Sure!” before jumping out and slamming it shut.

[Context for this line: Adora asked if they needed help taking the bags out of her truck.] Honestly, Diego's really cute here. He really admires Adora and looks up to her so he's taking every possible opportunity to talk to her, and be around her.

“You know you could've left, like, ages ago, right Grayskull?"

“Yeah well,” Adora did that little shrug she always did. “I didn't mind.”

Narrowing her eyes for a moment, Catra said slowly, “Alright. Well, you can go now. And I should probably head in.”

She turned to go inside, when Adora grabbed her wrist. “Wait.”

Ahhh I love this whole section of dialogue so I had to talk about it. These two are just... useless. What I love about them, and writing them in specifically this, is the constant push and pull with them, how they can never just explicitly say whar they want, either in fear they'll be judged and rejected or because they don't even fully understand what they want to begin with. With Catra and Adora, as much as one can say something like "You should go" the other will always hesitate to, will always have something at the tip of their tongue that they're not quite saying, or like here, will literally tell them to stay, using words or otherwise. They want each other but aren't quite ready to admit it yet. And I just think that's beautiful.

Also the grabbing of the wrist and the "Wait"? Pretty sure that was an accidental reference to the "stay" scene in Taking Control but it's so ingrained into my brain I'm sure it was subconscious.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

This line is just so... teenage romance vibes and I love it

Even though they had been talking nonstop for days now, and had seen each other just the other day, there was a palpable tension in the air, one that Catra wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with.

The said tension was definitely more on Adora's end than Catra's, because obviously, Catra is still hiding things (or more accurately, just not sharing them) and although Adora wants to pretend to be fine with it, the closer she gets, the more she wants to know what the truth is, she doesn't want to listen to the lies and rumours anymore.

Adora studied her face for a moment, before saying carefully, “Well, I, uh, have a ton of old gear I’ve been meaning to get rid of, but maybe you could ask him if he wants it? It’d be a good start.”

Catra hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I'm sure he'd like that. I'll, uh, see what he says and get back to you.”

“Great!” Adora beamed.

Another little moment I love because Adora is just so considerate here and understands that Catra doesn't want to delve into things like money issues. She also gets Catra isn't one to accept handouts but the way she puts it isn't ‘let me help you out’ but more ‘you'd be doing me a favour’. Adora understands how she feels. She gets it.

“Why did he think you were texting your ‘boyfriend’ by the way?” Adora asked, and Catra felt her heart drop to her stomach. She hadn’t thought Adora had been paying attention to what Diego said (arguably nobody should ever pay attention to anything he says, ever) but of course she had, because once again, Catra had underestimated Adora’s observational skills.

“Because he's a stupid kid who doesn't know what he's talking about.”

Honestly Diego isn't that far from the truth he just needs to turn that 'boy' in boyfriend to girl.

Also the fact Adora is asking about this.... interesting. Catra's answer.....very defensive and also interesting. Once again they're so many unspoken words and subtext layered in all of this. It's like a tiered cake.

“That? Oh, nah. I don't—it's not really any of her business, y'know?” Catra replied, staring just past Adora’s shoulder.

Catra is replying to Adora asking whether or not Serenia knows she's a lesbian and, well, obviously what she said wasn't true. Well it was, technically, but she's ommiting the real reason. As I've already at least slightly portrayed, Catra has a complicated relationship with her sexuality, and I don't want to spoil it but that will definitely be explored more in the future, and Serenia definitely plays a part in it, being her guardian after all.

“I guess it was always kind of obvious. I never looked at guys the same way I look at girls—my first crush was some girl in like elementary, although I didn't realise at the time, and they just continued from there. I thought all girls had crushes on other girls at some point, that wishing I was a guy so I could be with them was what everyone did. When I realised they didn't, that it was weird, I spent all my time convincing myself I just wanted to be my celebrity crush and not be with them, until I actually kissed a girl for the first time. Then I couldn't exactly ignore it. I still tried to though. Especially when—well yeah, I tried to deny it for a while. But then, I guess I got tired. Of lying to myself.”

This whole paragraph is just... yes. No one has ever asked Catra how she knew, but more importantly, Catra has never wanted to answer this question, and if it were anyone else asking, she would have definitely shut it down, or answered with something short and simple. It's because it's Adora, and because she's growing more comfortable with her, to the point where she doesn't mind, even wants to share these types of details about herself. That vulnerability is even more important in chapter 7, so this was a stepping stone of sorts for her.

“So, uh, how about you? Not that I’m saying that you’re—but since you asked…” She cursed at herself internally when Adora's expression morphed into one of surprise, eyes slightly widening.

“Oh, me? I, um—I don't really know. Is that weird? I just haven't ever really thought too much about it. I guess my main priorities are school, lacrosse, and work.”

God, it's in moments like these where I wish I wrote from Adora's perspective as well. Because there's a lot to unpack here. She's not lying when she says this, I do think this is partially how she feels. But, some could argue it's so obvious how much she likes Catra, and she's definitely admired some women before. So. I'll leave it at that because otherwise I'll say too much.

Quickly though, back to the what I said about writing in Adora's perspective... saying this here and here only because I don't know if it'll happen but I did have an idea to make a sequel of sorts, from her perspective. But, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

The smooth stream had been interrupted once Adora had asked if Catra's had any plans next week, with Halloween coming up. The relaxed, open demeanor that Adora had seen for the past few hours had almost instantly closed up again, and she could hardly focus on what Adora was saying anymore.

Now that Chapter 7 is out, why she reacted this way obviously makes a lot of sense, but to add more of a commentary to it, as we saw throughout this chapter she was trying her best to ignore her emotions about her mom's death anniversary because for once things were going well and therefore she had other things to focus on. Adora mentioning Halloween forced Catra to acknowledge it, along with the memories that come with her mothers death.

“Promise you won't ditch me?”

“I, Adora Grayskull, promise not to ditch you,” she said, hand on heart.

We love a good promise cameo.

“Did you really get kicked out? Of Horde High?”

Catra should have been expecting this to come up once again. It was bound to. With all the rumours. Especially when Sparkles seemed to be a fan with how she brought it up on Sunday.

I've already talked a bit about the rumours and how they arose in my chap 1 commentary, but really I wanted to talk about Glimmer here, since her scene was before the grocery scene and I have a lot to say about this one. Initially when I wrote it, the scene was a fairly quick altercation that kinda lacked a real punch, but after spending a little more time on it after my beta pointed some things out...it hit hard. I know there is a fuck Glimmer train at the moment because, yeah, Glimmer is pretty mean in that scene. And other scenes. I don't know why I love writing Glimmer as her S4 self so much, but it's fun to play around with okay? I like how she can take on an almost antagonistic role at times.

Glimmer thinks what she is doing is to the benefit of her own friend, by pointing out all of Catra's faults and the fact that she's from the Horde, but I also think there's a little jealousy there. No Glimmer doesn't like Adora, but she is quite a possessive friend, so I can't imagine she likes the fact Adora is spending so much time with someone she doesn't know, and to add to it, she's got the worst reputation in the school. So.

Catra thought back to the moment, and remembered what had provoked it, all the way back in eighth grade. “Yeah. I'd say they did.”

Exclusive for Tumblr gang only, but yes they did on fact deserve it because they called Catra the d-slur. This was during a time where she was really struggling with her sexuality so at the time, this cut deep.

As Catra lay in bed that night, she found her mind wandering back to Adora's handshake, how they had held on for just a little too long, mismatched eyes staring into blue ones. How such a casual touch had brought back that burning sensation, that need to be closer.

Ah...the handshake. There is literally no other reason for this other than the fact they are gay. This chapter along with the next are especially important for their development physically—they get a lot more comfortable touching each other in passing but at the same time they still have to find a reason to touch each other (hence the handshake). Either way, it helps break another barrier in their relationship, and this is even moreso the case in chapter 7. I don't know if you noticed, but that chapter is full of small touches and more, but they couldn't have gotten there if it wasn't for the little steps along the way.

Boy that was a long one! I hope you guys enjoyed this, I know I said chap 8 would be out soon but schools really kicking my ass, trying to find a balance is hard. Nevertheless, it will be out asap, I appreciate your patience! (:

#spop #catradora #micah answering asks #bloom #bloom asks #asks and answers #send anons #ty anon #again #this was fun

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sugarbooger513 · 4 years

Text

Moving on- Chapter One

This is the beginning of my OC’s story. Hope you guys enjoy!

Her icy eyes stare into the mirror as she tries to fix the short honey brown curls on her head. However, there isn't enough patience in the world for her to deal with it. Jasper finally gives up, tossing the comb onto her dresser before straightening the tie around her neck. "Are you decent, Jasper?" "Yeah, come in." Her roommate, Lilith, walks into her bedroom with a small smile. Like usual, she's wearing her sky colored bodysuit and white combat boots. Her hair, which reminds Jasper of virgin snow, is in a neat bun on the top of her head. "Looking like the lesbian you are, I see." "Fuck you, Lilith. My girlfriend likes how I dress." "Exactly. A les-" "Stop it." Her laughter makes Jasper smile, despite wanting to look irritated. Lilith has been her best friend for a few years now. They decided to get a small two bedroom apartment when Lilith got a full time job at the Ingenium agency. Jasper still worked as a free lance hero, until today, that is. "First day jitters?" "Huh?" "Your hands, Jas. They're shaking." Jasper frowns at how easily she can be read. In a way, it's ironic. "The All-Knowing Hero" Daedalus is the easiest person to read. "Yeah, I guess so. At least Midnight will be there." "Oh yeah, she's your old mentor, right?" Jasper nods, smiling from the thought of the kind Hero. While Jasper never bothered copying the R-rated aspects of Midnight, she certainly learned from her combat skills. At the time, Midnight was fresh out of high school, but she took Jasper's training very seriously. There were days she would come home beaten to a pulp from training, but Jasper is nothing if not headstrong. "Well, I'm going to join you at your frist day." "Wait," Jasper pauses, "why? They have the Sports Festival today. You'll just-" "I want to introduce you to my old homeroom teacher. I was a part of his first class." "I thought you couldn't stand him." "I mean," she chuckles lightly, "he really wanted to expel me. Like, REALLY wanted to." "Sometimes I sympathize with him." Lilith sends her less playful roommate a wink, which causes Jasper to roll her eyes. How do they get along so well? "Whatever, Jas. I'm going with you whether you like it or not." "Fine, but you aren't allowed to embarrass me." "Trust me, I don't think I could. Eraserhead is generally one of those guys that just doesn't give a damn about what's going on around him." 'Eraserhead,' Jasper tilts her head slightly, 'that sounds awfully familiar. Still.. I can't quite remember why'. The two of them walk outside, so Lilith pulls the mask from her body suit over her head. Jasper smiles at her friend as they start their walk to UA. The nerves seem to only get wilder in Jasper's body as they walk. Principal Nezu reccently called her about an opening at her alma mater. Not long ago, a class was attacked by a "League of Villains" at USJ. One teacher was severly hurt from protecting his class, and the number one hero, All Might, was also injured. They decided to hire a few more teachers, preferably ones with quirks that can prove useful in case this league attacks again. Jasper doesn't have a physical quirk, so she was shocked when Nezu explained the situation to her. Her quirk, Daedalus, allows her to see someone's strengths and weaknesses as long as she stares at them. However, if she blinks, her quirk is deactivated. It also tends to give her really bad headaches if she over uses it, so she tends to only use it in short bursts. "So, what is your title now? Ms. Daedalus?" "Nah. Just Daedalus, or Jasper for the other teachers." "Are you actually teaching a subject?" "No? I'm not sure if I ever will, but as of right now I'm some sort of disciplinary officer or something." Lilith snorts. Jasper... her friend.. as a disciplinary officer. Is that some sort of sick joke that Principal Nezu has planned? If so, where's the punch line? Before they know it, the two of them make it to the now ramped up security gate at UA High. One of the police officers at the front make both of them flash their hero licenses before they are allowed to walk inside. "Man," Lilith shoves her license back into her body suit, "this seems insane. I would feel bad for the kids." Jasper waits a second, but her friend doesn't finish the thought. "Umm.. you would feel bad for them..?" "If I cared." There it is. That's the Lilith she knows. "Well, I feel bad for them. UA was always my safe place, and I had a great home life. I can't imagine if some fo these kids come here to get away from their homes." Lilith shrugs slightly, but she can't convince Jasper that she really doesn't care. She might hide her normal name from the world, but being a hero is Lilith's calling. There have been multiple times where Pro Hero Ether has put herself on the line for complete strangers. "Yo, Ether," Lilith glances at Jasper, "do you know where the otehr teachers would be?" "I do. Just follow- Tenya!" A tall, blue haired boy turn towards the sound of his name being called. As soon as Jasper meets his navy eyes, she realizes that he's Ingenium's younger brother. No wonder Lilith knows who the kid is. "Ether, it's nice seeing you here! Did Tensei give you the day off?" "Yeah, he didn't want me to join while he did his business in Hosu City. Plus, I thought I should be ehre for Daedalus's first day." The polite young man actually bows in front of Jasper. 'Man, he is a lot like his older brother'. "Uh-you don't need to do all of that. I happen to be friends with Ingenium, and I have done a few missions alongside him. It's nice to meet his little brother." "It's nice to meet you as well, Daedalus. I see that you have a UA badge on your blazer. Are you one of the new teachers?" "Oh, I'm the new disciplinary officer, so I hope I don't have to deal with you too often." The way the boy holds his arms up makes Jasper chuckle lightly. He seems a lot more.. robotic than his generally laid back older brother. "Of course not, ma'am. I believe in keeping order and-" "Yeah, yeah, all that noble bullshit. We'll catch ya later, Tenya. I'm gonna go introduce her to Eraserhead." He nods and walks back towards a group of teenagers that they can only assume are his fellow classmates. The two heroes turn and start to make their way up a flight of stairs. Lilith surprisingly pulls her mask off before knocking on the door at the top of the stairs. "Come on in." Jasper jumps a bit from the familiarity of that voice. Once the door is opened, the shocking green eyes make her smile. "Holy crap, is that Present Mic?" The enthusiastic blonde hero jumps form his seat when he sees his friend and past partner. Well, not exactly a 'partner'. If he ever needed an extra set of hands, Daedalus was one of the first numbers saved in his phone. The two of them never really went anywhere to hang out, but they considered each other good friends. "Rock oooon! If it isn't Daedalus herself! What brings you up here, baby?" Jasper chuckles before accepting a hug from the lanky hero. "I missed you too, boom boom baby. I actually got a job here as a disciplinary officer, and Lilith wanted to bring me up here to meet her old teachers that I didn't have." "Well, ya know one of 'em, baby." Jasper smiles at his sweet term of endearment. Mic has called her baby since day one, and he's the only person other than Mirko, her girlfriend, that could ever get away with it. Lilith suddenly lets out a sigh. "Eraser, you look fucked up." "Language, child." Jasper turns and winces at the man sitting in the chair behind her. The poor guy is wrapped in bandages from the waist up. She has no idea what any of his facial features look like, minus how deep grey his eyes are. Lilith sighs softly. "Jasper, this is my old homeroom teacher, Eraserhead. He's the one that always tried to expel me." "Sometimes I wonder why he really didn't Lils. It's nice to meet you Eraserhead." The man lets out a small snort, which she can only hope is a bit of laughter. "Just call me Aizawa, since we'll be working together. Without thinking, Jasper holds a hand out to him. When he glances at it, she blushes a deep red. "Shit.. sorry." "Don't apologize. I understand that it's weird. Daedalus, was it?" "Jasper, please, but yes." He nods slightly. "Sho," Mic shifts his intense gaze to his wrapped up friend, "you can't tell me you don't know her." "Oh, I remember her. I remember training her with Midnight." "Wooooah, I don't remember.. oh wait." Jasper suddenly remembers one training session when she was a teenager. Midnight had taken her to an abandoned building with two other guys. The two guys faced her and her mentor in multiple sparring matches. She always remembered Mic being one of the boys since he had taken the time to talk to her, but the other boy was more to himself. He was really cute, in a mysterious sort of way. "You seem to be realizing that you know my best buddy, Sho." "I.. Yeah, I apologize, Aizawa." "You apologize too much, seriously. I don't care. You look different than I remember, though." Jasper lets out an awkward laugh. "Yeah, I guess I do. I cut all my hair off and.. ya know, gained a bit of weight." Lilith immediately shoots her friend a glare, which isn't shocking, but Mic jumps in. "Yo yo yo, baby, you look just as gorgeous as ever. Hell, if you didn't like women, I would totally hit on you." Jasper chuckles and gives the blonde haired man a pat on his head. Aizawa groans when he laughs softly, and Jasper's first instinct is to crouch in front of him worriedly. "Is there anything I can do to help your pain a bit, Aizawa?" "Not really. It's just something I have to put up with for a while. Thank you, though." Suddenly, Mic's phone starts to ring, making the other three people in the room jump a bit. His usually bright green eyes seem to dull when he looks at the number. "Hey, Joke. What can I do ya for?" Aizawa mutters a few curses under his breath. "Joke," Mic continues with a groan, "the two women with us are not trying to hit on your boyfriend. One is a lesbian and the other is an old student of his." Jasper can't help but chuckle a bit. "Jealous girlfriend?" Aizawa's eyes hold the smallest amount of amusement when he meets Jasper's baby blue eyes. "Yeah, you have no idea." Something about the tiny giggle she breathes out makes his heart pick up its pace. He's suddenly thankful for the ridiculous bandages wrapped around his face because he's sure that she would notice the slight flush on his otherwise pale cheeks. Mic finally hangs the cell phone up, glancing over his shoulder to look at his friend. "I don't understand why she only tells me when you 'screw up'. Sho-" "Can we talk about this at home, Mic?" Mic respects his friend's wishes and stops talking about the situation. Still, Aizawa knows that he won't forget. The two girls decide to hang out with Mic and Aizawa for the rest of the sports festival. Mic and Lilith end up reminiscing about her school days at UA, while Jasper sits in the chair next to Aizawa. Most of their small talk ended in something about a shared love of cats and coffee. "Have you ever been to the cat cafe downtown?" "No, actually. My dads work as vets, so I spend time with their patients a lot." Aizawa makes a small note in his mind about her admitting to having two fathers. He would never judge her about it, but he likes to remember things he thinks other people would tend to forget. "Mic and I go there sometimes. There are two cats I enjoy the company of a lot." "Well," Jasper smiles a bit, "maybe I can go with the two of you at some point." Aizawa feels a smile creep to his face. Her company amidst the boistrous blonde he calls his best friend sounds like a nice change of atmosphere. "Would your girlfriend care?" "Mirko? Hell no. She isn't the jealous type." "I hate being the bearer of bad news," Mic sighs, "but Joke would." Jasper quickly puts her hands up. "I swear I won't jump your bones, Aizawa." "She'll jump my bones." Lilith has to add in. Mic snickers at that. "Lilith, I will break your bones." "That's hot." "Good lord." Aizawa even chuckles at Jasper's flushed cheeks. He can't help but think how cute her embarrassment is, but he keeps the thought in his head. Mic would flip his lid if Aizawa admitted that anything other than cats was cute. "Honest question, baby," Mic passes Aizawa a bottle of water, "would you jump MY bones if you liked guys?" Lilith howls out her laughter as Jasper smirks. "Nah, too loud. The whole neighborhood would hear you climax." "Damn, baby. That kinda hurts my ego." Aizawa rolls his eyes before holding the water bottle up. "You deserve it after giving me an UNOPENED water bottle. I can't open it, dip shit." Jasper giggles and reaches to unscrew the lid for poor Aizawa. "There ya go." He feels his face warm yet again. He didn't exactly mean for her to do it for him.. "Thanks, Jasper." "Anytime." "Look at that," Mic groans softly, "Bakugo wins the Sports Festival." Jasper smiles, not knowing who the kid actually is. She remembers when she won it in her third year. Her parents cried like babies seeing her on the television, and Midnight even threw her a party. 'Hopefully that kid feels good about his win. He deserves it, I'm sure'. "I'm not shocked," Aizawa comments, "he's headstrong." "He's a bit unstable, Sho." "No, he really isn't. He doesn't settle for less than what he wants, and that's how a true hero is." Lilith snorts. "Tenya has told me about that guy. He sounds like an ass, but one of the greatest heroes in Japan is a grade A bitch." She's talking about Endeavor, and the thought of that man makes Jasper tighten her fists in anger. Jasper can't stand that man. From the moment she met him, a weird feeling of absolute hatred invaded her body. Her girlfriend, Mirko, has to work with the guy from time to time, and Jasper always refuses to accompany on those missions. She just knows that she wouldn't be able to focus with that asshole barking orders like he leads something. "Jasper? What's wrong?" She jumps slightly from Aizawa's sudden question. "Oh, I just don't like Endeavor, and that's who she was mentioning. I swear, that man makes it hard to want to stay a hero." Mic tilts his head. "I mean, he's saved a lot of people." "But there's a reason All Might is number one. I'll give you a hint, All Might isn't a major douche canoe." "Being likeable isn't a necessary trait to be a hero, Jasper." Aizawa raises an eyebrow despite the fact no one can see it. "You're right, but being an ass to fans and such is just wrong. You hide all of your hero work, Aizawa, so I'm not sure if you would understand how much it means to a child when you give them a high five or sign their freaking teddy bear." Aizawa nods in agreement. No, he doesn't really know that feeling, and he doesn't care to. Lilith even snorts. "In all fairness, I don't like kids, so I never pay attention to them while they watch me work." "I love helping kids, yo. They get a kick out of my speaker." Jasper turns her attention to Aizawa when she notices him picking at the bandages on his face. "What are you doing there?" "I'm supposed to be allowed to take most of these damn things off since the festival is over." Jasper stands from her seat and walks over to where he's sitting. "May I help you out?" "Can you?" Lilith chuckles from her seat. "Trust me, she has taken care of a lot of my injuries. She should be a medical professional at this point." Jasper rolls her eyes before she reaches behind Aizawa's head to take hold of the end of his wrappings. "Anywhere that I need to be careful around?" "Oh, uhh, under my right eye is still kind of tender." She nods, thankful he's honest about his pain. Even Mic goes quiet while watching her unwrap Aizawa's face. Truth be told, it scared the hell out of him when Aizawa got the news that his quirk might not be the same. For Christ's sake, the man is only thirty. He doesn't need to retire that early. "Aaaand, that should be the last one." Jasper turns to throw away the bandages before turning her attention to his arms. "Do any of these need to be left alone?" "My right elbow. Thank you, Jasper." She smiles at his thanks and wuickly unwraps his left arm and his right forearm. Finally, she stands completely and meets the man's eyes. Despite his hair being slightly disheveled, he's a very handsome guy. He looks exhausted, but his eyes hold a sort of alertness that only the best heroes have. The deep scar under his right eye, however, makes her stomach drop. If she remembers correctly, his quirk works a lot like hers. Any injury to the eye can be detrimental to their careers. "Sho," Mic glances worriedly at his friend, "do you think erasure will work?" Aizawa closes his eyes for a second before nodding slightly. "Only one way to find out. Mic, scream." "Are you-" "Do it." The scream is enough to almost rupture all of their eardrums. Jasper quickly covers her ears and watches as Lilith does the same. Suddenly, Aizawa's eyes shoot open, and the color of them makes Jasper gasp out loud. Hopefully no one heard it. That would be a bit embarrasing. Still, the crimson color of his eyes is grogeous. Mic suddenly goes quiet, barely making a peep. Aizawa smirks, but it's quickly replaced by him closing his eyes and letting out a pain filled groan. Jasper's next movements are out of pure instinct. She quickly gets on her knees in front of his seat and her hands are immediately on his face. His eyes are squeezed shut, but he tenses at the gentle touch. Her fingers glide so easily over his now sweat glistened skin. "Open your eyes, Aizawa. Let me check on you." Usually he would push someone away for being so caring. He usually can't stand when people try and take care of him, but her voice is so fucking genuine. He can't help but open his eyes to meet hers. Her lips curl into the smallest smile hes ever seen. "Don't over use it, Aizawa. It works, and that's what matters. Let it get back to normal on its own." God, if it were Mic telling him this, he would tell him to shut up... but it's this caring girl. He finds himself nodding. Suddenly, the door is opened, and his stomach drops. "Umm... what the fuck are you doing to my boyfriend?"

@katgalle

#eraserhead #aizawa shouta #mha shouta #bnha #aizawa x oc #present mic

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mollymauk-teafleak · 5 years

Text

A very very happy Christmas to my lovely girlfriend @spiky-lesbian, I’m so lucky to have you, I hope you like this!

------

Being a father made Vax think of his mother.

Not that he didn’t think of her often already, whenever he’d heard the song she used to sing come on the radio around Midwinter, whenever he’d need something from the back of his closet and find the scarf she nearly always wore, whenever something small and fleeting would bring the grief rushing back so hard it would turn his airways to cement and he’d choke on it for days.

But now every time he’d hold his daughters close, feel them tuck up small and rest their little heads under his chin, every time their eyes would brighten when they saw him, every time they’d look for him when something scared them, he’d think of her. Of how she’d done this for him. Of how she’d felt the same intense rush of love, the dizzying sensation of knowing you’d do anything to protect them, the ache of the impermanence of it all when it had become your oxygen.

Vax thanked the gods for her every day. Without her, the living proof that it could be done, that such a deep and desperate love could be picked up and carried around every day, he had no idea how he would have managed.

Sometimes the thread was so strong in his mind, he could feel her next to him, the warmth she’d always seemed to radiate, the smell of clean cotton and soap. He could feel her hand on his shoulder when he’d sing her namesake back to sleep, whenever she’d fuss in the night, when he’d kiss the many bumps and bruises Johanna collected as she grew up.

He could feel her hand in his hair, fingers stroking through the strands like she used to do when she could sense something on his mind, when he realised he wanted another one.

That was how Frederickstein von Musel Klossowski De Rolo IV arrived, five years after his sisters.

A second child was different to the first. It was like dancing a dance you already knew the steps to but every so often the music would get faster or slower without warning and you’d put a foot wrong. But it was no less exciting, heartbreaking, joyous and exhausting in equal measures.

Now Freddy, nicknamed that way because Vax maintained a child didn’t need a name that took longer to say than they’d been alive, was just over two. He had big blue eyes like his papa and fluffy black curls like his daddy, he was shyer than his sister Johanna but loved to follow her around devotedly and he was in love with reading as his sister Elaina, who read to him every night.

Right now he was sat on the living room rug, the afternoon sun forming a warm little puddle of gold around him, burbling an approximation of an engine noise as he rolled a toy tractor back and forth.

Vax exhaled sadly, feeling that phantom hand on his shoulder again, “He isn’t going to like it.”

“No,” Percy sounded equally defeated beside him, “But he needs them or it will just keep being a problem for him. Damn the shitty eyesight genes in my family.”

Vax nudged him with an elbow, already well aware of where his husband’s mind would be, “This isn’t your fault.”

Percy gave a grunt that was neither assent nor refusal. He anxiously passed the long, thin box from hand to hand restlessly before starting into the room.

Freddy looked up when he heard them come in, smiling his adorable gap toothed smile, “Papa! Daddy!”

“Hello there, little man,” Percy knelt on the carpet beside him, “Got your tractor?”

“Yep!” Freddy waved it in one pudgy fist, “Playing farm.”

“That’s great,” Vax smiled softly, “Can we talk to you about something?”

Freddy seemed to sense the more grown up tone in his voice, looking up curiously, giving a little nod.

They’d noticed it in small ways. How Freddy never seemed sure who was coming into the room, how as a little baby he’d sob until he was picked up, only when held close seeing that it was his dads and he didn’t have anything to worry about. How he would screw his fists against his eyes until they were red. How he seemed unable to follow things when they moved in front of his eyes.

Pike had recommended a trip to the pediatrician who’d passed them on to an optician that specialised in infants. Freddy had seen it as a fun trip, he’d got to sit in a special chair and a nice drow man had asked him to look at a few things and then given him a treat.

And now they had to convince a two year old that was already sensitive to textures and sensations to wear a pair of glasses.

“We’ve got you a present,” Vax explained, taking the box from Percy, “A present that will help you.”

At the mention of a present, Freddy got excited, “Aminals for my farm?”

“Animals,” Percy corrected, smiling, thinking privately that if this didn't go well, a whole fleet of farm animals might be in order, “And no, this is something else. Lets try them on.”

The little blue glasses came on a rubbery band to stretch around his head and keep them in place. Almost as soon as they fixed in place, tucked in amongst his curls and over his slightly pointed ears, Freddy’s face crumpled.

“Don’t like them,” he mumbled, little fingers scrabbling at them.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” Percy looked fretful, his worst fear about this coming true in front of him, “But you’ll see…”

“No,” Freddy’s voice took on that dangerous, wobbly ‘I’m about to full on tantrum and there’s no avoiding it’ quality, “No, don’t like! Gone please. Gone please!”

“Hey, little bud, its okay,” Vax said softly, seeing the panic on his face.

Percy scrambles for something positive, “Love, look. I wear glasses, see? They’re not so bad once you get used to them and then we’ll match.” He reached behind his ears and made his own delicate, gold rimmed glasses bounce in the way that never failed to make them laugh when they were babies.

But Freddy seemed past even that, his rounded cheeks flushed red, upset and angry, “No. Don’t want to, don’t want to match!”

Percy clearly tried very hard not to look wounded at that, hands dropping to his sides and leaving his glasses sitting on his nose all wrong. He tried.

Vax winced internally and gently removed the glasses, “Okay, we’ll try wearing them for little bits at a time and help you get used to them, alright?”

Freddy pouted the way only a two year old could, sinking down into an angry little stormcloud of himself. Percy tried to reach out and bring him into a cuddle but he shrugged him off, mumbling a no under his breath.

Vax took Percy’s hand, knowing his husband would break throwing himself against that particular brick wall again and again. Handing him a problem, particularly an emotional one, with no solution but to wait, was like taking away his hands. So firmly but gently, he picked Percy up off the floor and took him back through to the kitchen.

“I...I hate when this happens,” he eventually mumbled miserably, once a steaming mug of tea had been put in his hands.

“When what happens?” Vax looked over his shoulder from where he was washing the spoon, “Our kids throw tantrums every five seconds practially?”

“No,” Percy groaned, “When they suddenly grow up so a hug isn’t enough to fix their problems any more. It happens so fast, just...just when your back is turned. And suddenly it’s not enough.”

Vax felt a tug deep in his chest and the faint impression of a hand on his shoulder that wasn’t really there. Of course he understood, of course he hated it too.

“Now don’t go all maudlin and philosophical on me,” he murmured, coming over and resting his head on Percy’s chest, wrapping his arms around his waist, “We knew this was going to be tricky but it’s nothing we’ve done wrong. We just have to try something new to help him.”

“Yeah…” Percy sat his mug on the counter behind him so he could throw himself into the embrace, clutching him the way he clearly needed to just for a moment.

And then Percy suddenly seemed to stiffen, like something had grabbed him. He disentangled himself and Vax saw that look in his eyes, the one he always got when he’d had an idea that would mean he’d be in his workshop for a while and reemerge probably with some new burns and cuts.

“I’ll be back in just a moment!” he gasped, heading, of course, down towards the door that had once led to the basement that was still cold, still damp, but was now his workshop.

Vax gave a bemused little laugh, shrugging and claiming Percy’s tea for his own. That happened so often he’d started adding more sugar to Percy’s drinks, enough to suit his taste rather than his husband’s.

Of course not being able to snap his fingers and fix every problem his children collected weighed on him, just like it did for Percy. Back when the girls were very young, he stressed himself to bits over every faded smile and skinned knee and bad mark on a piece of homework. But he’d learned over time, growing as his children did. That was a comforting thought; at least they were all in it together.

And eventually, as he’d hoped, there came the padding of small feet and a red eyed little Freddy appeared in the doorway, clutching his tractor.

“Hi daddy,” he cheeped, a little sadly.

“Hello, little buddy,” Vax smiled, holding out an arm so Freddy could waddle closer and rest his head against his daddy’s knee, like he loved to do, “Feeling better?”

“Mm,” he felt a little nod, “Don’t like them, daddy.”

Vax didn’t have to ask what he meant, “I know, Freddy, I know. I’d never ask if it wasn’t really important but they really will help you. Can you be a big, brave boy for me and try to make it work?”

“Girls don’t have to,” Freddy mumbled bitterly.

“Yeah,” Vax sighed, knowing the unfairness of that would be hard to explain, “Your eyes just need a little help. Like daddy’s.”

Freddy made a frustrated little noise, “Don’t look like daddy’s. Stupid glasses.”

“Now where did you learn to curse like that, little man?” Vax had to laugh, his righteous anger was just too adorable.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to explain what curses were by Percy crashing back into the kitchen, looking a little haggard, like he’d been moving at a hundred miles an hour for a good while.

“Freddy!” the mania melted off his face when he saw his son, “Look what I made!”

Freddy looked delightedly curious, he loved to see what his papa made in his workshop, “Something for me?”

“Kind of,” Percy knelt down and smiled hopefully.

What was in his hands was what clearly used to be his spare pair of glasses. But now they looked very different. A large, thick strip of leather had been hastily attached to them with metal clasps, in place of the usual arms, sized perfectly so it would fit around Percy’s head.

In short, a perfect approximation of Freddy’s glasses, made for an adult.

Percy whipped off his usual pair and attached his new, modified ones, fitting them to his head. Vax had to swallow hard so any sobs that would very much ruin the moment stayed firmly in his throat.

Freddy’s eyes were wide and delighted, “We...we match!”

“Yeah,” Percy’s face split into a wide grin, “We match, love.”

If there was anyone who was good at finding new solutions, interesting ways around problems, it was his husband, Vax thought proudly. He felt that phantom hand on his shoulder squeeze and he smiled softly.

He didn’t have his mother anymore. But he had Percy, and that was everything.

#bailey #percildan #fluff

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mmmatchasay · 6 years

Text

one step ahead

this was requested by @lesbian-kiwi a while back (sometime last year) but I never got around to posting it. I’m not too sure how I feel about this but I rewrote this twice and I still feel dissatisfied with how this turned out to be. I hope everyone enjoys this regardless the mistakes and my dissatisfaction.

words: 1513 words

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you thought you were sly but spencer proves he is one step ahead of you.

You saunter casually in to the pantry, holding your mug like it was the only thing that kept you grounded (in truth, it is the only thing that kept you from hightailing it back to your desk). “Hi, Spence.” You greet the Doctor, whom you had actually seen walking in to the pantry and mainly the reason why you have found yourself here in the pantry.

Spencer looks up from his own mug and when his eyes land on you, he gives you a smile. A smile that leaves your heart racing, knees shaking, and you curse him (half-heartedly, of course) for having such a beautiful smile that makes you incredibly soft and mushy. “Hi, Y/N. Getting a refill?” He motions to your mug and you nod your head. Spencer makes some space for you to stand beside him and you swallow the lump in your throat as you took the space beside him.

“My mum sent over some Green Tea she got when she went to Japan for a vacation so I figured I should try it out. Mum’s very picky with her tea so I think she must have really liked this.” You tell him as you showed him the green tea bag you have in your mug. Spencer leans over slightly to look and half of you wanted to flinch while the other half simply wanted to lean in – you can smell his cologne and it sends shiver down your spine.

Spencer nods his head, leaning back. “Green tea is loaded with antioxidants and nutrients that have powerful effects on the body and it is also about 30 percent polyphenols by weight, including large amounts of a catechin called EGCG and this substance can reduce the formation of free radicals in the body, protecting cells and molecules from damage. Drinking three to five cups of green tea per day seems to be optimal to reap the most health benefits…” Spencer trails off when he notices the look of awe (and is that admiration he sees?) on your face and suddenly he feels shy. He clears his throat and looks at his own steaming mug.

Snapping out of your adoration for the Doctor beside you, you cannot help but let the smile on your face grow. “I didn’t know any of those so thank you for sharing, Spence.” You point out and when he looks at you shyly from the corner of his eyes, you almost poured hot water on your hand instead of your mug, but you didn’t. So, you had saved yourself from the embarrassment. “So.”

Spencer looks at you curiously.

You clear your throat. “I heard Emily couldn’t make it for the movie thing the two of you have planned.” To be honest, you only heard about this from Garcia because she would not stop talking about how sad Spencer had looked when Emily had to cancel due to her Ambassador Prentiss flying in.

“Yes, we were supposed to be watching this Russian movie I came across and thought we would enjoy.” Spencer informs you. He had really been excited to watch Ballad of A Solider and since the film festival is conveniently showing the 1959 movie, Spencer had wanted to watch it with Emily seeing as she also enjoyed watching movies (regardless of the language). “According to the synopsis, a young Russian solider earned a medal but asked to see his mother instead and it is supposed to recount his journey of various kinds of love during wartime.”

You nod your head, hanging on to every word Spencer had just said. To be honest, you are probably going to regret this sometime in the future but since the opportunity is presenting itself, you swallowed your pride and turn to look at him. “Do you mind if I join you instead? I know I am no Emily, but I happen to be free.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Really, Y/N?” A smile appears on Spencer’s face when you nod your head to his question. “That’s really great! I was really looking forward to watching the movie ever since I came across the flyer for the Russian Film Festival. As far as I know, we don’t have a case tomorrow so, is it too soon if we go right after work?”

Your heart races against your chest and you nod your head dumbly. You hadn’t exactly expected Spencer to ask you so soon – then again, you reckon he must have been really excited to watch the movie. “Sure, that’s fine with me too.”

Spencer beams at you. “Looking forward to it.”

Spencer still has a smile on his face as the two of you walk out of the outdoor theatre – the night was really nice, not too humid nor too dry. It was just perfect, surprisingly. He looks at you and the smile on his face widens even more. “Thank you for coming with me, Y/N.” He informs you shyly and you give him a smile that manages to steal his breath away. You aren’t privy to this information, but Spencer has found himself developing feelings for you for a while now. If Spencer had to place a time, his attraction to you had probably started when you actually listened to him when he began rambling away about facts and genuinely looked like you were interested in what he is talking about. When he started hanging out with you outside of the office, Spencer had been elated to find out that you are such a fun person to be around with. With your cheery disposition and your attitude towards life in general, Spencer finds himself always looking forward to whenever the two of you can exchange stories or facts about this and that.

You, on the other hand, are starting to feel slightly guilty because not only had Spencer bought the popcorn and drinks for the movie, he had also paid for your ticket. The two of you are currently walking towards the car park which was a block or so away from where the film festival is happening and despite not understanding an ounce of Russian, you had actually enjoyed the movie (you made up dialogues in your mind in place of what was actually said). “It was nothing, Spencer. Thank you for agreeing to bring me along.” You tell him, seeing your cute car in a distance.

Spencer smiles. “I enjoy spending time with you, Y/N.” He really does; Spencer swallows the lump in his throat before he calls out your name, stopping you from heading towards your car. You raise an eyebrow at Spencer. “Actually, there is something I would like to tell you.”

You slowly turn to face him.

“Actually… I had been too afraid to ask you out so Emily and I came up with this elaborate idea of Emily not being able to come with me to this festival and of course, Penelope, the romantic that she is, wanted in on our plan and well, you see, I just…” Spencer trails off slightly, gauging your expression. To his surprise, you are staring at him in shock, but Spencer can also see the blush starting to creep over your cheeks. “I like you, Y/N. More than just a friend that is, if you needed any more clarification.”

You must have entered twilight zone somewhere in between the outdoor theater and on the way to the parking lot because you definitely did not see this coming! You always had an indication that Spencer might share the same feelings as you however you didn’t want to be too full of yourself and assume things – only to end up in disappointment so you tried your hardest to just play it cool. Now, hearing all of this from Spencer’s very own mouth, you are convinced that your face almost resembles a tomato.

But before Spencer could even continue talking, you cut him off. “I have a confession to make as well.” You rub the back of your neck sheepishly and Spencer looks taken aback by what you had just said before he looks slightly wary and apprehensive. “It’s nothing bad!” You quickly rectify but Spencer still looks wary. So, you take a deep breath and exhale. “I, uh, actually I don’t understand Russian at all. Not an ounce, nope.” You shake your head but when you see Spencer about to open his mouth, you lift up your hand to stop him. “I have a massive crush on you, Spencer and I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship because what if you hadn’t liked me back?”

Spencer furrows his eyebrows before he shakes his head. “No wonder. There was a point during the movie when I turned to look at you and you looked completely lost, Y/N. You should have told me you didn’t know Russian – there was also a showing with subtitles.” Spencer informs you but then he clears his throat. “So, can I walk you to your car?”

You blink a couple of times and nod your head, a smile appearing on your face. “Of course, Spencer.”

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homenum-revelio-hq · 5 years

Photo

Welcome (again) to the Order of the Phoenix, Seb!

You have been accepted for the role of BRANWEN YAXLEY with the faceclaim of Sonequa Martin-Green! We adored your application for Branwen! You really took the bio created and brought her to life in your own way! We especially loved the bias/prejudice section and how you really went for the nitty-gritty and didn’t hold back. We’re so excited to have her on the dash!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Seb

AGE: 21+

TIMEZONE: CET

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I‘m on my winter-break for three weeks now, and while it might get busy for me around Jan and Feb, I should still manage at least one reply daily.

ANYTHING ELSE: Nothing really. Thank you for asking <3

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Branwen Yaxley

AGE: 30

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis female. She/Her. Hard rock gold star lesbian with a(n unpopped) cherry on top.

Her sexuality was always something she was very straight-forward about. She was probably introduced to the term ‚homosexual‘ as a slur at first, and immediately decided to defend it, not even knowing what it actually meant. By the time she found out, she had spoken up about it too loudly to retrieve her opinion quietly. And because it seemed so magnificently radical to call herself a Lesbian and be attacked by homophobes first hand (which gave her a reason to do what she does best: fighting) that it became an identity she wore on her sleeves from a young age on.

I like to imagine that the pureblood side of the Wizarding World was – even in the 60s and 70s – less open about such topics than the Muggle World. The pureblood mentality is all about passing on ‘pure‘ genes, isn‘t it? Which could mean that they see homosexuality as something standing in the way of such goals. Nevertheless, I don‘t think Branwen would‘ve been quiet about her identity. For one, because it told the sweet, quiet and closeted pureblood girls that they were very welcome to approach her in the shadows of certain corridors at Hogwarts, and for two, because most pureblood families raised their daughters to be perfect future wives. And this train had long left the station for Branwen. Her parents – who still think this is just a phase and will pass eventually – always knew Branwen would choose a husband fit for her rough and brawny attitude herself. So as long as they think this will still happen, they mostly refuse to talk about it with her. After all, the Yaxley name will live on whether Branwen has children or not: through honourable, righteous Corban. The one everyone is so goddamn proud of…

So, yes, Branwen has made her experiences, with emotions as well as short-lasting relationships, but only ever with other pureblood girls. After all, even if an accidental child won‘t be a situation, the mingling of bloods is just ‘wrong and disgusting’.

(note: I just want you to know that personally I dislike the term ‘gold star lesbian’ as it‘s usually used to invalidate gay people‘s identity based on their past relationships, and the same goes for ‘popping a cherry‘, for obvious reasons. But when I thought about how Branwen herself would answer this question, this was the exact phrase that came to my mind. The nuances of terms don’t matter to her at all as she doesn’t care at all about offending people.)

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: I‘d love to change the FC to Sonequa Martin-Green. While Mackenzie looks very cool and has strong brawl vibes, I think Sonequa fits those vibes very well too.

She’s unashamed of who she is but, because of siding with the Order, does have to restrain certain parts of herself. I’d like to express this with some hair symbolism: whenever she’s being herself, unrestricted from either side, she wears her hair natural and open. Willing to fight anyone who might want to say something negative about her appearance. But then, for example when she joins the Order in a battle (or in smaller situations in which she has to act in a way that is unlike her), she prepares by braiding her hair. For this symbolism, I think black hair works best. It holds the most meaning, considering our society‘s prejudices against it, and that‘s why I‘d prefer Sonequa over Mackenzie!

Also, giving her a non-white FC is a nice way to visualise her name, which means ‘beautiful raven‘.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

There are three things one needs to know about Branwen:

She knows exactly who she is. She acts before she thinks. She is unapologetic and relentless in what she wants and does.

I looked up the etymology of the name ‘Branwen‘ but accidentally typed ‚Bram‘, which apparently is the old English word for ‘broom‘. Even though the name Branwen has a different origin, I had a good giggle and it gave me a good idea to explain her personality. On the one hand, Branwen is extremely skilled on the broom, most likely having played on the Gryffindor Quidditch team during her years at Hogwarts (as a Beater, naturally). On the other hand there is this a German adjective, borstig, which means to be like the bristles of a broom/brush. More than any other, I believe that this adjective describes Branwen perfectly.

She is like the rough bristles of a broom, sweeping over whatever surface she deems messy, tearing everything away from their peaceful state on the floor, allowing no failures on her side. Crash your hand directly into the bristles and you might even draw blood from the wounds, but run your fingers over them carefully, putting up no counter-pressure, the bristles will tickle you at most. Perhaps even feel like a gentle caress.

When crashing your hand into the bristles:

It’s important to understand, that she doesn‘t prick for the sake of pricking. Nor is fighting for moral reasons. She‘s not a Nora Lynch type of a personality, despite their similar willingness to quarrel.

There‘s a saying which goes, your bubble of freedom ends where the bubble of freedom of another person starts. Branwen‘s bubble is larger than most people‘s. To be comfortable she needs to be able to swing her arms and be able to express herself loudly. She takes up a lot of space, not minding to take up other people‘s space but minding very much when other people take up hers. Whether it be opinions, physical space or emotions, she knows exactly who she is, anyone opposing her beliefs is – in her opinion – someone who tries to minimise her bubble of freedom. So when she pricks, it‘s not because quarreling with people is a way to alleviate boredom, but because she deems it necessary to gain her freedom back.

When gently touching the bristles:

In return this means that Branwen is – as long as one lets her be who she wishes to be – quite the enjoyable character. Because she‘s the opposite of whatever ‘social anxiety‘ is, she‘s easy to be around. There‘s no awkward silence, no struggle to understand what she wants, no hesitation when it comes to making plans. She leads the conversation, and because there‘s no topic too private for her, she can and will lead those conversations easily to blush-worthy places.

She‘s always up for drinks and jokes, adores hearty jokes, never says no to adventures, and while she doesn‘t really care about ‘deep‘ topics or philosophising around, she does care about the problems of those she considers friends. The aforementioned caress, is a genuine one. It’s not particularly deep, has no healing effects, but it can soothe a momentary itch. She will lend you an ear and give you concrete advice, usually even offer to deal with the problem in question herself.

This being said, there is one scenario where she restricts herself and turns a little stiff, and that is when she speaks to Muggleborns or half-breeds.

Around all Order members she wears a mask of civility, which holds in her prejudices much like braids keep her hair tied back, making sure her fight for personal freedom never turns political. But around Muggleborns and half-breeds she’s too aware of how different she is from them.

Perhaps it’s something akin to disgust, but perhaps it’s also the fear that if she gets started on fighting for her freedom around them, she might go too far and unmask herself completely. She‘ll warily stalk around small-talk and listen more than she speaks, which is unusual for her. No leading of conversations, instead she allows herself to be led – but put a pin in this, we‘ll come back to it later. For now it‘s important to know that Branwen is not at all the same person around people she likes, and people she is convinced don‘t deserve her respect. People who thinks might one day take away her freedom on a political basis.

All in all, Branwen has the kind of personality that allows for fun threads. The war doesn‘t affect her the way it affects most Order members (again, put a pin in that) and so not all her conversations turn around its effects. There‘s no heaviness to her, no sorrowful pondering or air of hopelessness. After all, what has she got to lose? This being said, stir the conversation towards something she has an (utterable) opinion on, and you‘re in for a ride. (As long as you‘re not a Muggleborn, as previously mentioned.) She knows no shame, never thinks back about where fights went wrong, always runs head-first into what many people would consider ‘taboo topics‘. And even when fists and curses come and go flying, she will never think herself in the wrong. After all, she‘s not the one who started. It was her freedom bubble which was being stepped on! She only defended herself!

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF THE FAMILY:

To understand Branwen, it‘s vital to understand her family, her paternal side, the famous Yaxleys, as well as her maternal side.

Part of the sacred 28, an – in Branwen‘s opinion – honourable circle of British purebloods, the Yaxleys are Scottish and have their seat in a grand castle in the highlands, not too far away from Hogwarts. Most of the sons who carried down the name were in Slytherin, however it is not uncommon for the daughters of this family to land in Gryffindor, showing that the Yaxley‘s priority has always been honour and pride.

Lachlan Yaxley, Branwen‘s father, is your typical Slytherin. He‘s two-tongued and cunning, ceaselessly putting the appearance of what he does over its actual content. What he wants, he‘ll fight for with all his might, but contrary to his wife, he fights for it in the shadows, silently, in a way that leaves no traces of the sharp, unforgiving violence he exerts.

Bethan Yaxley, born Burke, Branwen‘s mother, went to Gryffindor. Although from another generation and an even stricter familial background, she always showed signs of rebellion, of a will to fight. Raised to be the perfect bride one day, always taught to be lady-like, beautiful and adorable, her ways to get what she wanted were never concealed or performed in secret. Stand in between what she wants and herself, and your life might literally be in danger. She‘s no less violent than her husband, but while his violence shows itself in emotional abuse, always making sure he‘ll be able to call himself innocent afterwards, she‘s unapologetic about her ways.

In fact, while she had been engaged to marry into the Yaxleys from a young age on, she decided herself that she wanted the older, instead of the younger brother. Her ways to get him were never concealed or performed behind closed doors, on the contrary, the whole Wizarding World watched as she made her family even more noble, even more rich, by catching Lachlan and putting him into her pocket. Did Lachlan disagree with what she wanted (his money, his nobility), no one ever learnt about it, though. He must’ve not been too disapproving of Bethan’s determination though, or else he would‘ve had his own, quiet ways to stop her. After all, make no mistake, just because he seems more subdued compared to her, it doesn‘t mean he‘s less powerful in their relationship.

Growing up as the daughter of two people, who, on the one hand, encouraged Branwen‘s large freedom bubble, always teaching her to take what she wanted, never make excuses, and on the other hand, had their own very large freedom bubble, which was so easy to overstep, was anything but easy.

The abuse – as modern Muggle psychologists would call it but which Branwen‘s would never see as such – strengthened her. From a young age on she had to fight for every inch of freedom she wanted to claim for herself, be it something small like which books she enjoyed reading (”Really?“ her father would always ask in a skeptical, hostile way. “That‘s something you enjoy?“) or who she knew she truly was (the day she came out to her parents, her mother wiped a spell over her, leading to a permanent scar across her shoulder which she carries to this day).

Psychologists would also be able to detect the ways it weakened her. Her fear of actually letting people come close, scared they might judge, scared she might never get the freedom back, for example. Her inability to be soft and gentle. Or her constant need to be right, as though allowing another opinion to co-exist with hers, would negate who she is as a whole person. Or her actual physical flinching at the idea of befriending a Muggleborn.

But Branwen would never admit to that, perhaps hasn‘t even figured it out herself yet. She firmly believes it made her strong, and perhaps it did. The ability to unapologetically demand what she wants, what she believes she deserves, it is a type of strength. To get through battles and duels with a grin on her face, because what is there more familiar and home-feeling than fighting with others? To never step down from a childhood feud that started for a reason no one quite remembers, simply because she can. To never hurt when yet another girlfriend ditches her, after all, she wasn‘t raised to share but to be self-sufficient, raised to never need people‘s friendly words and gentle touches…

To her, her surname means power. It means protection and honour, and she carries her head high because of it. Being way more outspoken about it back when she was at Hogwarts, she has however stopped mentioning who she is all the time now. Perhaps because the Order wouldn‘t see this as something positive. Perhaps because slowly she has stopped seeing it as something quite as positive either. Before, she was quite indifferent about the prejudices the Sacred 28 fostered, not really caring about the ‘deadborn‘ and enslaved Squibs, and definitely not bothering to question what there was to hate about Muggleborns. Nowadays, she still doesn‘t really care about any of that, but she understands that her noble name comes with those opinions.

However, she’ll never renounce this name. She won‘t let her parents disinherit her, she won‘t let herself be burnt off the family tree, she won‘t do anything that‘ll risk her nobility. Even if that means that one day, she will have to let her bubble of freedom burst and submit herself to her mother’s control… But it’s worth it, right? To give up ‘Branwen’ to be a proper ‘Yaxley’? After all, this name means strength. And she is strong because of it. If she were to lose her name, her family, what would be left of her? And, who knows, even though she’s determined to win this war to stick it to her damn cousin, what if they lose? At least she’ll have a proud title to go back to.

OCCUPATION: Blacksmith and vendor at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop, the Knockturn Alley branch.

After some splendid suggestions from the group, I have come up with a little idea: Wizards can conjure material goods but only for a limited period of time. It is therefore only logical that they need to buy the objects they expect to last for a whole year or longer, such as cauldrons. And therefore it is just as logical that those objects need to be manually crafted.

If some cauldrons are more expensive than others then it’s because they are more sustainable, and this is achieved by the kind of metals used, but also by the magic woven into them as they are crafted over a real flame (considering that elemental magic is the oldest and purest form, therefore also the strongest form of magic).

Branwen is clearly not in need for a job. Even if her parents disapprove of her choices, they still believe she‘ll come back around to marrying and giving the Yaxley genes to a child one day. (The name and heritage will follow Corban’s bloodline, anyway). They support her with a huge monthly allowance that make working obsolete. So why is she doing it anyway?

Well, the truth is, she started to work at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop because the branch in Knockturn Alley allowed her to overhear the telling chit chat between family members. Sellspeople are so easily overseen by the rich… It was one of the plans she had with which she talked her way into the Order. Told them that she had a great job where she could innocently inquire about this and that and learn about what was going on with the Dark Lord‘s supporters via their wives and babbling children. And because the shop is close to Borgin and Burkes, where a paternal great-uncle of her works, it not only put her parents at ease knowing he‘d look over Branwen, but also allowed her to be alone often, it was a winning argument.

What she tells her parents and everyone of the noble Pureblood Society, however, is: „I‘m doing this for fun.“ And it might‘ve been a lie once, but is it still?

Certainly, working as a friendly sellperson is mostly out of character for poor Branwen, who struggles with just letting the hostile comments of clients wash over her, but damn is she good at finding exactly the right cauldron the person is looking for. She‘s not someone who gives up or half-arses her job. If she is asked to help someone, find the exact right cauldron for a very specific potion, then she will not rest until that very cauldron has gone over the counter.

One day however she couldn’t find such a cauldron. So she went down into the cellar where the cauldrons are being made and it was the start unexpected: she began forging cauldrons herself. Manually. In the roaring fire, she‘ll stand for hours and hours, one hand holding the potion-soaked hammer, in the other the metal, as her mental strength turns into physical strength. She doesn‘t stop when the soot covers her face, doesn‘t stop when her clothes drench from the sweat, doesn‘t stop when her muscles begin shaking under the hard work. Seemingly inexhaustible she forges, refusing to think about how this work comes from a time when Muggles and Wizards still shared lives.

No one knows that she is more than a vendor, other than the other blacksmith, and she needs this to stay that way. She is proud of every single one of the cauldrons she makes, knowing they are perfect, but she is not proud of the manual labor. Yes, there is magic involved, but still. She is a Yaxley! And this is lower class labor at best… But there is something about holding the heavy hammer, about feeling the fire burn in her lungs that keep drawing her back down into the cellar, and she can‘t explain what it is. In a way she doesn‘t want to think about it, because what if she began to admire Muggles for their manual labor too? Began to envy them to live in a world without magic…

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

I think the bio does a beautiful job at explaining how Branwen feels around the Order.

On the one hand she just couldn‘t care less about the cause. She doesn’t care about morals or politics as long as the hierarchy of society stays in a way that she can keep her power, money and title. Most Death Eaters, she assumes are good, upright citizens, family and friends, who are just concerned about the Wizarding World. Not everyone who‘s on the Dark Lord‘s side immediately wants all Muggleborns dead, right? Most of them just want them apart so they can‘t mingle with the purity of their beautiful magical world, and isn‘t that very sensible? Surely most Muggleborns must agree, too!

On the other hand she has begun caring for the Order members. I love this part a lot so I don‘t want her to be too far into this caring yet but want to develop it as I play her. I don‘t want her to be too enamored with everyone just yet, but enough that she‘d consider some of them almost friends. When they talk to her about their private problems, she finds herself caring, and while she might hold back from seeking out their friendship, it‘s definitely begun forming, slowly, quietly, within her. No matter how much she pretends it hasn‘t, she can very much feel it. This feeling of fondness. Of admiration. Adoration, at times, even.

She values strength, doesn‘t she? She loves fighting and honours those who fight bravely as well. So this means two things:

One, her purpose in the Order is exactly that. She‘s not someone who will spy in other camps, or sit at home watching over a map like Edgar. She‘s someone who wants to be out on the field, her wand in her hand, curses on her tongue. And because she lacks moral values – the Death Eater values as much as the Order values – she has no trouble fighting with all her heart. She just wants to win, what for, it doesn‘t really matter. She just doesn‘t want to lose and so she fights without hesitation, and the other Order members will know that. That‘s perhaps why she‘s made it to Mid-Level at this point: because she has proven herself to be trustworthy on the battlefield. No hesitation, no laziness. When she fights, she fights. She‘s in it, with her heart, head and muscles.

Two, she has seen other Order members fight like that as well. When she initially joined she didn‘t know what she got herself into, perhaps even thought that they‘d need her to win this war. After all, they were just some silly rebels who just happened to oppose her cousin‘s side, she didn‘t really have faith in them. That‘s why she joined. To prove her cousin wrong. But then the months went by, years, eventually, and Branwen had to learn a harsh lesson: those people weren‘t joking around. They weren‘t wimps. They weren‘t pitiful. They were everything she had ever wanted to be, and at times even more.

Usually, when she argues with someone, duels them, she has no emotions or opinions about it afterwards. It‘s never really personal. During her time with the Order, she quarreled a lot (mostly with non-Muggleborns as explained above), however it never left her quite as cold as fighting did when she was young. She began rethinking what people told her in those arguments.

And instead of despising her for being so head-strong, she began admiring them for it. Especially because they didn‘t fight like her father did, with jabs and a smirk, solely to leave you emotionally wounded. They didn‘t do it like her mother did it, with physical violence, rather wanting to lame you than to allow you to take up space. No, what they did, how they defended themselves, is by simply … standing their ground. By reminding her of other people‘s freedom she endangers. By taking her by the hand and guiding her to show her that them (the people who they‘re trying to defend) being free, doesn‘t necessarily mean she won‘t have any left for herself. That true freedom means freedom for everyone.

She‘d rather cut out her tongue than speak about this to anyone, but it‘s there. This knowledge. She knows it has happened. She knows how she feels. And she fears how it‘ll make her decide one day…

SURVIVAL:

Being a pureblood with a well-known family, she doesn‘t struggle much in this war. As long as she gets her few hours at Potage‘s in, no one wonders what she‘s doing during the rest of the time. She officially lives with her aunt in a city house in Wizarding London, but she mostly comes by to take a shower and change her clothes. Most of the times she‘s out at night, enjoying life, not worrying too much about all this war-trouble, and convincing people to let her stay in their bed. Yes, bed. Do you think a Yaxley would settle for the couch?

In recent times, she‘s begun sleeping over at other Order members’ places more and more often. Perhaps because they don‘t ask questions like “so what are you going to do with your life now”? Perhaps because … no. Branwen refuses to see them all as friends. Some perhaps. Close acquaintances who she happens to trust with her life. But friends? Never.

And yet, when she speaks words of comfort, holding them shielded from dark incidents, promising to be there for them, she can‘t help but wonder how much of her freedom she‘s already given up for their love.

It conflicts her greatly. You wouldn‘t see it in the way she interacts with people, but it almost scares her, all this. The idea that they might lose this war. Because it would make her cousin all too happy, yes, but also because, well, what would happen to them? Trial? Azkaban? Death?

She condemns no one from her family to be on her opposing side and yet is quite glad they don‘t know on which side she‘s on. Perhaps because she knows that one day she‘ll see her parents‘ shoes under the Death Eater‘s robes and will have less than a second to figure out on whose side she‘s truly on.

RELATIONSHIPS:

It is safe to say that Branwen never really had friends.

At Hogwarts she was the kind of person to throw those (in)famous Gryffindor parties; aword from her and everyone would come. She knew everyone, and everyone knew her. A party thrown by her meant a good time. And people usually liked being around her. This went on even after Hogwarts, in Wizarding London. And yes, she‘s the type of person to call people she met a few times ‘friends‘, to treat them like buddies, touching them and talking to them as though she knew them for years. But real friends? People she trusted with her emotions? With her pain? With her fears? Those were incredibly rare. Countable on one hand.

One of those people is Alice Longbottom, as she proved herself from a young age on the type of person Branwen respects. I‘d need to plot with the player, of course, but I like to imagine that they got into a terrible fight-at-first-sight, and Alice won in such a glorious way, that Branwen couldn‘t help but feel that through her bruised ego, she was mostly just proud of Alice for having such a big dick energy. And because they spent so much time together, eventually, the deeper conversations started to unfold, and she did grow attached.

But this doesn‘t negate what I previously said. She‘s not someone to get all touchy-feely with, and so many people would never place her high on their friendship list, even if Branwen does like them a lot. Like, she might feel close to someone, but they‘d never think about inviting her to their intimate wedding “for family and just a few closest friends”.

So the war didn‘t change much. That she can‘t talk to her purebloodist friends about what she does outside of partying and working at Potage‘s, or that she can‘t talk to the Order members about how little she actually cares about their cause, doesn‘t really affect her relationships. She was never someone to just talk about how she truly felt, anyway.

On the contrary. Because around Muggleborns she‘s forced to shut up and listen, she might‘ve grown to learn how to actually listen to other people for once. Before, when someone talked in a way that bored or upset her, she‘d just say so. Around those she can‘t do this, she is forced to listen to their side of things, to their opinions, their feelings, and as the years with the Order went by, she might‘ve begun actually caring for other people on more than just surface level. She got to know them, and because they are all brave in their own way, she began to like them.

No, she never really had friends.

But at times she wonders if she wouldn‘t like to be friends with those in the Order…

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

As literally everyone else, I‘ll obviously say Branwen x chemistry. However, I do think that romantic/sexual relationships with men will be out of the question. Deep, important friendships as explained in the point above? Heck yes! But no romance.

Also, I do like the idea that Branwen might fall for a Muggleborn girl. Not just for the beautiful star-crossed lover trope but also just to explore her bias and morals. I think such a romance could work well for character-development.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Muggles are inherently dirty. Werewolves (as well as other half-breeds) shouldn‘t even be just kicked out of society, they should be killed. Or at least be castrated. It‘s a shame to even consider them human, and allow them to perform magic. Muggle music is stressful and too loud and chaotic, there‘s no grace to it. The same goes for all their other art. Halfbloods can stay but their magic is weaker. The magic of Muggleborns is weaker as well, in fact, so weak, that Hogwarts shouldn‘t even seek out British Muggleborns but just let them stay in the Muggle world. Squibs should consider themselves lucky that they‘re made servants instead of being completely kicked out of society, as it would be the Wizarding World‘s right to do. It’s for people with magic, after all. A marriage between a Muggle and a Wizard/Witch should be forbidden. Salazar Slytherin was right when he said Hogwarts should stay clean of mudblood, as Muggles are known to be inherently hateful. They have proven themselves incapable of accepting magic and it‘s therefore for their best to keep them unknowing of the Wizarding World. After all, what if the Wizarding World ended up being revealed to the Muggles? Would they come hunting Witches again? Or would the Wizarding World have to force them into submission, into oppression, perhaps making slaves out of them the way they do it with Squibs? It’s just for their best to keep them away, really.

Here a handful of prejudices Branwen‘s fosters. But mind you, she is not only outspoken about them but also doesn‘t have enough … incentive to fight about it. None of this really regards her, she finds. She will fight about everything and anything, but not for moral reasons. As long as her status of a mightier Witch isn‘t doubted, she won‘t fight with people who say Halfbloods‘ magic is valid. However if they say it‘s as strong as hers, she‘ll want to fight to prove them wrong. So if the war would end in favour of the Order, she‘d be like, okay, as long as I get to keep my privileges. Being rich. Getting an education. Having people respect her noble status. Etcetera etcetera.

All those beliefs she holds are beliefs because they were taught to her as facts. Not as opinions. What drives people angry are when opinions are being challenged. “This movie was bad”. She‘d fight people on that. But the same way no one would fight another person about the colour of bananas, she has no reason to fight people about the dirtiness of Muggles. It‘s just a fact. They clean their houses with mops! So that‘s perhaps a reason why she manages to not get into arguments with other Order members. Because she either thinks them uneducated about certain topics – or her silence forces her to listen to what they call facts, quietly challenging what she thought to be the only truth.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

I am easily uncomfortable in group chats and environments with new people. But this group was just so welcoming (the first night alone I received about five messages from people asking for plots!) that it made me feel terribly at ease. So I was very soon very certain I wanted another character to dive deeper into this game with all those lovely players.

I wanted a character different to my Edgar baby to explore the purebloodist side of the war, and open myself up to in-character conversations you‘d never see Edgar having.

Branwen immediately caught my eye because she joined the Oder out a joke-like whim, not because she already sees the problems in her purebloodist upbringing. It’s always a fun challenge to play a character who thinks very differently than me. The idea that someone might manage to challenge her prejudices and actually change to a point that one day she might even fight her own beloved parents in a battle, enthralls me.

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

I‘d love to see the Yaxley‘s being outed as Death Eaters, or getting hurt by the Order. To see how Branwen would react.

I‘d also love to see what will happen with the werewolves by the McKinnon farm next. Edgar seems to be getting it into his head that they should be allowed into the Farm and have a warm bed – and Branwen‘s reaction to even just the suggestion makes me laugh.

Also, I wonder what would happen if a mission such as the current event fails and members of the Order get injured. If Branwen‘s worry would show and if perhaps it would drive her to 1) question why their morals are worth dying for and 2) realise she does love them like friends.

Oh! Also: “[…] she won‘t do anything that‘ll risk her nobility. After all, this name means strength. And she is strong because of it. If she were to lose her name, her family, what would be left of her?” I’d love to explore this as well. Her being outed as an Order member, far far down the line maybe, and see what she’d do.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Thank you for your consideration and thank you for being lovely admins! (You put in an alternative subit-page!! :D) You can be very proud of yourself and I hope you‘ll make it through the (dangerous for RPs) holiday season without too many losses and without getting too stressed!

#homenumaccepted #harry potter rp #marauders rp #hp rp #hp roleplay

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terrencehq · 5 years

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[ALEX FITZALAN, CISMALE, HE/HIM] have you seen TERRENCE BRADDOCK-KENNEDY around sedona? TERRENCE is a CRIMINAL JUSTICE MAJOR AT SCC, but they're also THE LEADER in the sedona sleuths, so you've probably seen them around the firehouse shed. they're known for being ADVENTUROUS and CHARMING, but they're also known to be NAIVE and IMMATURE. when they're not at the shed, i can usually find them at JENNY'S. i can always recognize them by their (high school yearbook filled to the brim with signatures, conspiracy board with red yarn, old photos hung up that refuse to be taken down, bag that's never been cleaned out, shouting loudly about demons in the local diner).

[ THE LEADER: This role is the glue of the group, the one who holds everything together. They’re probably the planner and organizer, and the one to say, “Let’s split up!” Their role has emerged naturally over time. ]

STATS

Name: Terrence Braddock-Kennedy

Age: 21

Gender: Cismale

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Pansexual

Personality Type: ENFJ

SCC Major: Criminal Justice

Jenny’s Diner Order: Cheeseburger deluxe w/ waffle fries and a rootbeer float

Similar characters: Fred Jones, Jake Peralta, Steve Harrington, Dipper Pines, Michael Kelso, Fox Mulder

ABOUT

FULL BIO CAN BE FOUND HERE

Terrence’s grandfather, Stan, is the town crazy dude who has this weird cabin in the woods and believes in Moth Man. He’s a survivalist though, so his mom, Reggie, ended up being super into outdoorsy stuff. She’s now the local park ranger and will take people on hikes.

Reggie met Terrence’s other mom, Gemma (who is the local high school drama teacher), and they fell in love. Kansas ain’t that cool with lesbians though so they hadda go through some shit. They eventually adopted Terrence and his younger sister Ava & now they’re a happy family!

Terrence loved hearing conspiracy stuff and scary stories from his grandfather and his mom. He started loving mysteries because of it and started helping people around town with small tasks and unsolved things. He was super charming so everyone liked him as long as no one brought up his weird family or two moms.

He’s super nice to everyone and is always willing to help with anything. He’d drop whatever he was doing to lend a hand.

Eventually helped form the Sedona Sleuths and was deemed The Leader. He’s always coming up with the big plans and helping to keep everyone from killing each other. He loves his friends a lot and would legit die for any of them.

He can kind of be selfish and immature sometimes though without realizing it. He means well always it’s just that he’s a dumb boy.

Is going to SCC for criminal justice and wants to become a police officer or detective one day. He basically wants Grimley’s job and doesn’t plan on ever leaving town.

Whenever anyone in the group implies that they’re leaving after graduation he gets super angry about it. The idea of the group breaking up is one of his biggest fears. Terrence is afraid one day everyone is going to go away and he’s going to be the only one left.

HEADCANONS

His sister, Ava, is 16 and goes to the local high school. They’re super close and if anything ever happened to her he’s lose it.

Even though Terrence is adopted, he says he doesn’t really care about finding out who his real parents are. In reality though, he’s just afraid to find out. Change is something he doesn’t like and the idea of his world turning upside scares him.

He’s closest with his mom Reggie. They go hiking and camping together every weekend that it’s nice out. Ava is closer to Gemma, but the whole family gets along equally.

Stan Braddock is NUTS but Terrence loves his grandpa. He thinks he’s the coolest person in town. One time he tried to teach Terrence how to hunt though until they both gave up and just decided to go back to his cabin and eat baked beans.

Terrence is totally against dating within the group and will give people a hard time for it. His motto is “don’t shit where you eat.”

He carries a backpack around with him that he’s arguably had since 8th grade. it’s so worn out and the group is convinced he’s never cleaned it out. He’s never seen without that or his field journal.

Terrence’s room is covered with newspaper clippings about their cases, a cork board where he puts his latest conspiracy theory down, and a shit ton of polaroids of him and his friends.

In high school he ran track and got a scholarship to a pretty good university away from town, but turned it down. Everyone thought he was insane for doing it and his coach beat the shit out of him with his clipboard when he heard he didn’t take the offer to go to SCC.

His mom made him do the school plays in high school so he probably roped others in the group into doing it with him.

He drives a really nice car and it’s like the only thing he ever keeps clean.

Literally never sleeps. You can always find him at Jenny’s at like 3am drinking a milkshake and flipping through their latest case.

CONNECTIONS

ROMANTIC

ONE NIGHT STAND: Terrence is always preaching not to have relationships inside the group, which is why he had a full fledged freak out when he woke up hungover and naked next to this person. They’ve only hooked up once, but it was really fun. Terrence makes them swear to keep it a secret though for the sake of his credibility.

CRUSH: They grew up super close and are maybe even neighbors. Terrence constantly snuck over to their house in the middle of the night to hangout and talk on their roof. Terrence has a crush on them, and maybe they also feel the same way, but Terrence has made it clear that dating within the group can only go wrong. He hides his feelings for them, but he’s constantly laying awake at night thinking about them and there’s been a plethora of paragraph texts he’s sent to his confidant about how shiny their hair is. (taken by KARA)

CLUELESS CRUSH: The boy tends to unintentionally flirt with everyone so it’d not be a surprise if he accidentally caused someone in the group to develop a crush on him. He’d be really clueless that this person likes him and just assumes they’re really close friends. (taken by MILO)

FRIENDSHIP

BROS FOR LIFE: Typical bromance where they’re obnoxiously close. They’re unbashfully affectionate and people in the group probably had theories they might have been secretly dating at one point. They likely call each other “bro” and “babe” all these time & Terrence definitely has made them friendship bracelets. If they ever take them off then you know it’s a serious argument.

THE UNOFFICIAL 5TH BRADDOCK-KENNEDY MEMBER: Maybe someone with a bad family situation that would always come over to The Braddock-Kennedy house growing up? His moms are really cool and they’re all for taking kids when they��re in need. Terrence definitely tried to kick the shit out of whoever was making them show up to his house in tears a few times, but they talked him out of it. (taken by ELISE and DREW)

CHAOTIC STUPID: These two are responsible and okay by themselves, but when you put them together it’s pure chaotic energy. They probably go along with Terrence’s occasional not-so-smart plans while everyone else is screaming at them to not. The group can’t let them sit together anywhere or else the two won’t get any work done. Terrence refers to them as his second in command. (taken by NICK)

PINKY AND THE BRAIN: Terrence is kind of a himbo at times so I’d love him to have a best friend/ close friend that recognizes he’s an idiot, but loves him anyway. He makes them absolutely bonkers and roll their eyes constantly. They can drag him all they want, but as soon as someone else says shit about him then they’re swingin’. (taken by LEO)

CONFIDANT: Terrence goes to them for everything. They somehow have been cursed with receiving his 3am phone calls about his latest case breakthroughs, conspiracies, or about the person he has feelings for. They always take his calls anyway and know all his secrets. Terrence trusts all his friends but something about them makes him run to them first. (taken by NADINE)

NEGATIVE

COCKBLOCK: Two people that had/have strong feelings for each other and either dated or almost dated that Terrence completely WIGGED OUT on when he found out. He made the whole thing super dramatic and guilted them both into breaking up or to not pursue each other. There’s still some bad blood there that might eventually come to a head. This can also be added on to another connection.

TOXIC FRIENDSHIP: Someone that has expressed leaving Sedona after graduation and Terrence is NOT happy about it. They’re super close and Terrence absolutely makes it clear that he’d pull an immature move and not talk to them ever again if they leave. Whenever the subject is brought up Terrence suddenly gets really angry, but he doesn’t realize how toxic he’s really being. He means well, he’s just immature. This can also be added on to another connection.

RIVALS: Terrence doesn’t have a lot of people that dislike him, but these two can’t seem to stop fighting. The guy doesn’t NOT like the other though. In fact, he kind of finds their bickering endearing (even if they do question his authority constantly). Terrence will sometimes pick fights with them when he’s bored and some people in their group are even convinced it’s flirting. Terrence claims they’re frenemies, the other other claims he’s a pain in the ass, and the Sleuths all have a pool to when they’re both going to finally just make out. (taken by MAXINE)

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bristlybranwen · 5 years

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BIO

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Branwen Yaxley

AGE: 30

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis female. She/Her. Hard rock gold star lesbian with a(n unpopped) cherry on top.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: I‘d love to change the FC to Sonequa Martin-Green. While Mackenzie looks very cool and has strong brawl vibes, I think Sonequa fits those vibes very well too.

Also, giving her a non-white FC is a nice way to visualise her name, which means ‘beautiful raven‘.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

There are three things one needs to know about Branwen:

She knows exactly who she is. She acts before she thinks. She is unapologetic and relentless in what she wants and does.

When crashing your hand into the bristles:

When gently touching the bristles:

This being said, there is one scenario where she restricts herself and turns a little stiff, and that is when she speaks to Muggleborns or half-breeds.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF THE FAMILY:

To understand Branwen, it‘s vital to understand her family, her paternal side, the famous Yaxleys, as well as her maternal side.

OCCUPATION: Blacksmith and vendor at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop, the Knockturn Alley branch.

What she tells her parents and everyone of the noble Pureblood Society, however, is: „I‘m doing this for fun.“ And it might‘ve been a lie once, but is it still?

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

I think the bio does a beautiful job at explaining how Branwen feels around the Order.

She values strength, doesn‘t she? She loves fighting and honours those who fight bravely as well. So this means two things:

SURVIVAL:

RELATIONSHIPS:

It is safe to say that Branwen never really had friends.

No, she never really had friends.

But at times she wonders if she wouldn‘t like to be friends with those in the Order…

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

#bio #{ the bold adventurer }

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you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus · 6 years

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Cyrus’ Dictionary

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13

Summary: Cyrus has always been good with words; there’s a reason English is his favorite subject. But with TJ, he seems to be at a loss for words. When they get paired up for a summer assignment, Cyrus slowly starts to build a new dictionary. One that involves TJ and everything they do together. Along the way, maybe he’ll find the words to tell him how he feels.

Chapter 13: La Douleur Exquise

Word Count: 3090

Read on AO3

You get to exhale now, Simon. . .

Cyrus blinked away his tears, silently cursing himself for crying. He’d probably seen the movie a million times, and still failed to get through it with dry eyes. That little phrase of words was all that he needed to start the waterworks. He reached for his nightstand, where he had a bowl of ice cream, slightly melted. He took note of his situation; it really did look as though he’d gone through a breakup. Well. . .nevermind. He wasn’t going through a breakup. He was just drowning his sorrows in gay movies and ice cream.

Yeah, okay, he was trying to break up with his crush on TJ.

TJ seemed to be the only thing he could think of. TJ this, TJ that, and it hurt. Not even emotionally, but physically; it was like he could feel his chest collapsing under him. It hurt knowing that he couldn’t get affection from probably the only person he really wanted it from. It was like this awful, physical pain in his chest. Pausing the movie, he opened up another tab, searching away.

wanting affection from someone impossible

He squinted at the words for a minute, pronouncing them in his head and then out loud. Good thing he’d taken a few years of French.

la douleur exquise: the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable

He jotted it down in his journal, along with a quick note about pronunciation beside it, and put it back on his nightstand. His hand lingered on the spacebar of his laptop, hesitant to restart the movie. Did he really want to watch the rest of it? Watch and see how this guy gets the guy, when he knew that he wouldn’t. It was painful; it was painful knowing that TJ was gay, because that just made his stupid heart try and convince him he had a chance.

Which he didn’t. Because why would TJ like a dorky little nerd like Cyrus when he could have someone better? Cyrus could probably name a few guys off the top of his head that had better chances to TJ than he did.

search: how to get over a crush on your best friend

“No, over then under,” Andi instructed, reaching over, “here let me help you,” she offered, taking Amber’s hands and guiding them properly. Her touch was gentle and feathery, making Amber melt inside.

“What would I do without you?” Amber wondered out loud, letting Andi take almost full control of the craft.

Andi giggled, adding another strand of yellow. “Probably die,” she joked, “so, if you don’t mind me asking, how are things with your mom?”

Amber shrugged, playing with a bead in her hand. “They’re fine as long as I don’t tell her about us or anything that has to do with me being a lesbian,” she said through a laugh.

Andi frowned, setting the bracelet aside. “I’m sorry about that. People really should learn to be open,”

“I know,” Amber agreed, sifting through Andi’s small pot of beads, “that’s why she got all pissed when TJ was hanging out with Cyrus,”

“What?” Andi questioned, studying Amber’s face, “what do you mean?”

“Don’t tell him I told you this, but like, she made him stop hanging out with Cyrus because he’s gay,” she said softly, as though TJ were waiting right outside AndiShack.

Andi pouted, moving over to the beanbag. “That’s terrible. Cyrus loves TJ,” she blurted out. The words were out of her mouth before she could even think to stop them.

“He. . .what?” Amber stammered, plopping down by Andi’s side.

“Well I think,” she admitted, rubbing her arm, “I know Cyrus cares about him a whole lot,”

“TJ is so whipped for Cyrus,” Amber chuckled, leaning her her on Andi’s shoulder.

“I’m shocked,” she deadpanned, linking her hand with Amber’s.

TJ ran a hand through his hair, sighing. It’d been one of the rare days where he hadn’t really seen Cyrus, so he occupied himself by going to the kids’ gym. He didn’t work there regularly anymore, but he still enjoyed the company of the kids. Plus, it was nice that he got to talk openly about Cyrus while he was there.

He pushed open the door to his house, slipping off his shoes. Looking up, he saw a familiar figure making coffee, a luggage bag by the door. And all of a sudden, he wished the air conditioner wasn’t working because his blood ran cold.

“How was the reunion?” he finally spoke, getting her attention. He pulled out a stool from under the kitchen island, taking a seat.

“Good. Nice to see friends after not having seen them for a while,” she drawled, toasting herself a piece of bread, “People came with their fiancees, some of them with their kids. . .”

TJ didn’t mean to zone out, but all he could think about was, well, take a wild guess. He got distracted, thinking about Cyrus and all the things the kids at the gym said.

You should invite him over again!

Isn’t he your boyfriend? You talk about him all the time.

Oh, so that’s who’s with you in your phone background!

TJ and Cyrus sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

“TJ?” his mom cut through his thoughts, her worried eyes searching for answers, “is everything okay? You seem out of it,”

“Huh?” he breathed out, blinking a few times. He felt so tired, physically yes, but, just in general. It was as though every word around her took all his effort; he was always walking on eggshells.

“Honey,” she started, taking a seat by him, “it seems as though. . .more and more you seem to be holding your breath. Like there’s something you need to say, but you’re not,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “is it something about school? You know you can tell me anything,”

TJ shook his head, feeling nauseous with every movement. He could feel the words catching in his throat, but they were going to escape. It was all going to come out, like word vomit. He could feel tears budding at the corners of his eyes, but he willed them not to fall. He knew things weren’t going to end up well, but what was the point of worrying anymore? What was the point of keeping this a secret anymore? He was tough; he could deal with weird looks and a bit of awkwardness for another two years.

“Mom. . .I’m gay,” he squeaked, swallowing thickly. Cool air surrounded the place where his mom’s hand used to rest. He could hear her take in a sharp breath, the room falling eerily silent after his remark. Here we go.

“What?” she whimpered, almost hurt by his words, as if they’d cut her. As if her son had just said that he’d killed somebody.

“B-but I’m still me, you know? I’m still the same TJ,” he told her, his head hung low. He couldn’t bear to look at her expression, but if he had to bet, he was pretty sure it was one of disappointment and betrayal.

She put a hand to her chest, rubbing her collarbones. “No,” she whispered, her hands nearly trembling by now, “this isn’t my s-this isn’t you TJ,”

“This is me, you just refuse to acknowledge it,” he shot back, venom lacing his voice. For someone who was in a pretty bad situation, he seemed to have a lot of confidence in his voice. He held his breath, making sure to keep himself composed.

“. . .that Cyrus kid did this, didn’t he,” she shook, her voice trembling, and eyes glossed over with tears. There was almost a hint of disgust to her tone, an attacking angle.

That felt like worse than anything she could have said to him or about him. He took a step forward, his steely eyes meeting his mother’s watering ones. “Don’t you dare say anything bad about him,” he demanded, his voice low and quiet.

“I told you he was a bad influence, I tried to warn you-”

“-I swear if you-”

The door opened, and Amber walked in, clearly a little confused about the situation. “What’s going on here?” she dared to ask, playing with the bracelet around her hand.

“Tell her,” TJ said smugly, looking at his mom, who looked almost too scared to speak.

“Amber, sweetie, your brother is. . .gay,” she shuddered, screwing her eyes tight as if that would erase the reality before her.

Amber’s eyes grew, gawking at TJ. Her face read ‘you told her?’, and she looked more worried than shocked.

TJ shook his head, moving towards the stairs. “I can’t be here right now,” he mumbled, starting up the first few.

“Where are you going?” his mom choked out, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. TJ didn’t respond, going into his room and shutting the door a little louder than needed. Amber exhaled shakily, smiling weakly at her mom.

“Amber, how are you, honey,” she cooed, reaching out to give her a hug. Amber tried to resist, she really did, but that would probably make the situation worse.

“I’m f-fine,” she stammered, pulling back, “I think I’ll. . .go up and work on some summer work,” she lied, bolting up the stairs and nearly colliding into TJ in the process.

“What the fuck TJ?” she hissed, glancing at the bottom of the stairs to make sure her mom wasn’t there, “what the hell?”

TJ waved her off, acting like it was no big deal. “Long story, I’ll tell you later, Ambs. I’ll be okay. I’ll be back soon,”

Amber stared at the floor, squeezing her eyes tight. “Where are you gonna go?” she asked, rubbing her arm.

“Probably Cyrus’,” he sighed, “I. . .didn’t really think that far ahead, but I’m not about to turn back now,” he decided, “I’ll text you, though,”

Amber nodded, reaching forward and wrapping her arms around TJ, her hands digging into his back. She was crying against his shirt, and it’s not like Amber didn’t cry, but she didn’t do it around other people, unless she really trusted them. TJ had to peel her off of him, giving her a quick peck on the head before heading downstairs.

“Where are you going?” his mom asked, back to TJ as she scrubbed some non-existent stain on the counter.

“Shouldn’t matter to you,” he snapped, tugging on the strap of his bag, “I’ll be out of your hair,”

“TJ, I-”

“Save your breath,” he muttered, leaving the house and slamming the door shut. He walked down the steps, slowly, stopping when he reached the end of his driveway. He turned around, looking at the house in front of him. All the birthday parties, play-dates with friends, lazy days with Amber; all of them were trapped in that house. He sharply turned around, stomping into the concrete as if that would clear his head. He felt like everything was falling apart; it felt like no oxygen was reaching his lungs when he breathed. His heart might as well have not been beating.

As he rounded the corner, he pulled out his phone from his pocket, calling Cyrus. Pick up, pick up, pick up, he prayed his pace quickening. He forgot how close he and Cyrus lived, because by the time he was a few steps away from the other boy’s house, the phone went to voicemail. TJ knocked on the door, a little frantically. He could feel his hands tremble, a lump surging into his throat. Great. Now when Cyrus would open the door, he’s see what a pathetic mess TJ was.

Footsteps grew louder and louder from the other side of the door, and TJ heard the door unlock. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or more nervous. As soon as TJ saw those brown eyes, lit up like a fire, he knew he was a goner. Cyrus didn’t even have a chance to say ‘hello’ before TJ dropped his bag and started to sob. All the snarkiness and cold exterior that he’d had at home was gone, and he was reduced to a puddle of tears. Cyrus quickly reached forward, tugging him inside and shutting the door. He grabbed TJ’s back without question, and led him upstairs, albeit shakily. It wasn’t easy for him to prop up an athlete who looked like he was ready to collapse. As soon as they entered his room, Cyrus shut the door, placing the bag down, and led TJ to his bed, where he collapsed onto the pillow, his cries muffled and heartbreaking.

TJ tried to explain things, through all his hiccuping. “I-I told my mom. . .t-that I was gay,” he choked out, tugging on his hair, “and I-I couldn’t s-stand it anymore, Cy. I just. . .b-broke,” he stammered, shaking his head vigorously.

“Any particular reason you chose to tell her?” he asked softly, rubbing the other boy’s back soothingly. He didn’t mean to pry, but it was as though he could hear his parents voices in his head.

You. “No,” TJ lied, hiccuping through a breath, “everything just kind of tumbled out,” he whimpered.

“You’re going to be okay,” Cyrus whispered, leaning in and pulling TJ in for a hug, “maybe not right now, but you will be. I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel better,”

Guilt pooled in his stomach as he remembered why he was here. “About that,” he mumbled, scrubbing at his tears, “I was, kind of sort of hoping, that maybe. . .I don’t know if you’d want-”

“-you can stay here,” Cyrus finished for him, smiling sympathetically, “I saw the bag, and then kind of figured after you told me what happened. Of course you can stay here, Teej,”

TJ thought he was going to collapse and start crying all over again; how was Cyrus so generous? It was unfair. “Thanks,” he mumbled, clearing his throat, “sorry. I just kind of came here and imposed on you,”

Cyrus shook his head, putting his hand on top of TJ’s. “You’re not imposing,” he murmured, cheeks turning pink at the touch, “please don’t feel about this, of all things to be upset about. I’m going to grab some pajamas to change into, I’ll be right back,” he said, giving TJ’s hand a squeeze and leaving him alone.

TJ sifted through his bag and dug out his journal; a few of the page corners had folded in the process of blind packing, but he didn’t care. He grabbed a pencil from Cyrus’ nightstand, flipped to the next page, and started writing.

6/28

I didn’t think things could get worse at home, but I was wrong. I told my mom I was gay because. . .because I couldn’t stop the words from coming up. Everything seemed to spill out, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I felt awful, and my mom didn’t accept me, obviously. I thought things were going to get ugly, but then Amber walked in and ‘saved the day’. I was just so upset, I went upstairs and packed a bag and came to Cyrus’ house. I thought I could get through it without breaking down, but evidently, that was a lie. I’m so grateful that Cyrus is letting me stay with him for a little while. I really don’t deserve him.

He shut the journal, slipping it back in his bag as Cyrus came through the door. Donning gray sweatpants that were probably a size too big, as well as a shirt with some dinosaur cartoon on it, he looked damn adorable.

TJ shifted off the bed, kneeling down beside his bag and sifting through for his pajama shirt. Not even bothering to leave the room, or warn Cyrus for that matter, he slipped off his shirt and exchanged it for the other one. Cyrus had to swiftly turn around or he was worried he would faint.

“Thanks for letting me stay here again,” he mumbled, pulling out all his clothes from his bag and putting them in a pile.

“Of course. . .what are you doing?” Cyrus asked, arranging the bed neatly.

“Getting ready to sleep,” TJ said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Cyrus shook his head, getting down by TJ’s side and putting all the clothes back in his bag. “Bed’s big enough, we can share,” he stated, “there’s no way you’re winning this argument,” he tacked on, grabbing TJ’s hand and pulling him up to his feet.

“Fine,” TJ mumbled, getting under the covers and trying to take up as little space as possible, “night Cy,”

“Night, Teej,” he whispered, pulling the covers up to his neck.

TJ didn’t even try to fall asleep. He made no effort to try and forget about the events of today, instead choosing to linger on the worst parts. Tears pushed against his lashes, and he let them fall, trying to breathe as softly as possible, as to not wake Cyrus. He winced with each sniffle, and felt his heart sink when Cyrus turned towards him.

“Do you wanna talk about it more?” he whispered, “I’m here for you, you know,”

TJ shook his head, wiping his tears with the hem of his shirt. “I don’t think there’s anything else to say. Sorry for bothering you,” he whispered, his voice wavering.

Cyrus propped himself up a little on his elbows, shifting closer He could feel TJ’s warm and shaky breath on his face, and it was almost like he was in a daze, but TJ clearing his throat woke him out of that.

“You are never a bother, please hear that,” Cyrus begged, “you are so special to me,” he insisted. Hesitantly, he reached forward and gingerly wiped the other boy’s tears; every millisecond of contact made him feel dizzy with anticipation. Attempting another bold move, he laced his hand with TJ’s, laying back down.

“Night Teej,” he whispered, pulling the covers up with his free hand.

“. . .night, Cy,” TJ murmured, trying to shut his eyes and fall asleep, but failing. He couldn’t stop concentrating on the fact that holy shit Cyrus Goodman is holding my hand. He peered over at Cyrus, who appeared to have fallen asleep in a heartbeat. Poor kid, must have been stressed as hell when TJ showed up at his door. TJ didn’t allow himself to linger too long on this, instead opting to remember that they were holding hands. That didn’t put a smile on his face, but did allow him to finally fall asleep.

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