#'i try with another i thought i would forget you'

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Toto’s Daughter (part 2)

warnings: smut

part 1

One thing your dad didn't like was seeing you drink alcohol. He never forbade you to drink, especially not now that you are an adult, but whenever he saw you with a glass of alcohol in your hand, he would just look at that glass and then at you, and you would know what it meant. That's why you avoided drinking when you were around your dad, but tonight you couldn't help it after what you heard in Lewis' room.

You drank one glass after another with your eyes wide open trying to forget the hot calling of your name.

"Honey?" The voice of your dad snapped you out of your thoughts. You startled as if you were scared that he could somehow know what you were thinking about. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, dad, yeah..yeah I'm okay" You gave him a quick smile as he put his hand on your shoulder.

"That glass stuck to your hand pretty well, huh?" He commented making you roll your eyes. "Are you having a good time?"

"I am, I just-" The ringing of Toto's phone cut you off.

"I'm sorry, honey, I gotta take this, I'll be right back." He excused himself before answering the phone and walking away.

You took a deep breath and drained another glass of wine that was in your hands. You couldn't stop thinking about Lewis. You suddenly found yourself looking at him in a different light. You found yourself thinking about the way his body must've tensed as he touched himself to the thought of you. Suddenly, you began to see him as a man who was immensely attractive to you, and no longer as just your dad's friend.

It's been a while since you've been with a man and for a second you found yourself thinking that Lewis might just be the one who could change that. The more the evening went on, the more tempting the idea became so you decided to look for him.

You found him in the courtyard of the mansion talking to Susie and her friends. After taking another sip of wine, you braced yourself and decided to approach him.

"Lewis?"

"Hey, y/n. What's up?" He turned around to look at you and smiled seeing you completely unaware that you decided to play with his head.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course."

...

"Tell me where to put my hands, okay?" You say posing on the balcony of his room for the picture you wanted to ask for when you first entered his room.

He stood behind you holding up his phone as you leaned on the balcony fence wearing a perfectly aesthetically pleasing long white backless dress.

"Relax your shoulders a bit" He said snapping a few shots. You listened to him relaxing your shoulders and turning your head to the side so he could catch the side profile of your face.

"Like this?" You asked glancing at him.

"Yeah and spread your arms a bit more. Yeah, that's the one. Perfect." He instructed before kneeling down to take another one from a different perspective. "Now tilt your head back so that your hair falls over your back. And put your hands up in your hair"

"Is this okay?" You asked trying to recreate what he was saying.

"Yeah, you can turn your head to the camera as well"

When you turned to the camera, looking straight into his eyes through your long eyelashes, you almost hypnotized him. He couldn't look away or take a picture as he was stunned by your beauty. He just stood there with the phone in his hands looking into your eyes without saying a word, his slightly open mouth was drying and his eyes glistening.

"Lew?" You chuckled a little startling him from his thoughts.

"S-sorry"

"Can you show me the photos?" You smirked stepping closer to him.

You walked closer to him and he opened the gallery, his finger sliding across the screen showing you the artwork he had just photographed.

"Wow, you've got some skills there"

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I like it just like that, Lew." You half whispered your gaze stopping at the level of his lips before moving up to meet his eyes.

His breath got caught in his throat and for a second he stopped breathing as the words left your mouth. He felt like you caught him in the act, but that was just impossible..it just can't be..

He thought.

"I-I.." He stuttered trying to say something even though he himself didn't know what to say. He started breathing again and his chest moved at a visibly increased pace as your lips were just a few inches away from his.

"What were you doing while you were moaning my name earlier today, Lew?" You asked innocently tilting your head to the side and batting your eyelashes while looking up at him.

"W-what do you mean?" He swallowed dryly.

"Now..you can lie to me for nothing or you can tell me what were you really doing thinking of me and maybe I can make it a reality for you." You said leaving the balcony and entering his room.

"Fuck, y/n how did you hear me?" He sighed quickly following you inside.

"I came to your room to ask you to take a picture of me earlier today"

"Fuck.." He closed his eyes and threw his head back in embarrassment.

"Couldn't stop thinking about it ever since" You whispered putting your hands against his chest. He looked down at you putting your cheeks between his hands and pulling your face closer to his.

"That dress of yours that you wore yesterday drove me absolutely crazy" He said quietly before connecting his lips with yours into a heated kiss.

"Yeah? So what were you doing in the shower?" You asked breathlessly pulling back from the kiss.

"I-I was touching myself..thinking of you"

His pants were getting tighter and tighter in the crotch area by the second and your thighs clenched when you heard him say that.

"Did you cum?"

"Fuck, y/n.." He groaned his hands landing on your hips tightly gripping them.

"Did you?"

"Yes, fuck. I came so hard."

Your hand slowly slid from his chest down his abdomen to his crotch. His breath hitched when you started palming his very much hard member through his pants.

"We can't be doing this, y/n.." He groaned.

"No one has to know, Lew." Your fingers found the button of his pants unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper. "I promise I won't tell" You whispered trying to pull his pants down.

He didn't hesitate for more than two seconds before he helped you remove his pants, leaving himself only in his boxers in front of you. He moved your hair to the side exposing your neck and flooding it with hot wet kisses. You moaned at the tingling feeling in your stomach encouraging him to take things further.

He took your hand in his pressing it against his hard cock while looking deep into your eyes. You palmed him for a second before sneaking your hand into his boxers. He moaned throwing his head back when you took him in your hand and slowly started pumping him.

"Oh, shit.."

"Does that feel good?" You asked continuing to work your hand up and down inside his boxers.

"Yes, fuck. Do you..do you wanna take it in your mouth?"

part 3

[nadvs]

push and pull (part two) (end)

pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach

summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.

content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment

» intro post | part one

» masterlist

When Zach wakes up the next morning, he fully understands the term hangxiety.

His temples pound as he stares at his ceiling. At some point last night, he slipped from tipsy into drunk.

Thankfully, he didn’t get so wasted that he’s forgetting anything. But then again, that means every time he made an ass of himself is a memory etched into his brain.

He remembers welcoming his date. Having a decent time with her. Walking her downstairs. Her lips on his cheek when she kissed him goodbye. Feeling like something was missing, and then, that something wasn’t missing anymore when you came downstairs to let him in.

And he remembers looking over at you across the party. Wishing he was next to you. Feeling crappy for thinking about you while he was with another girl. Knowing he was idiot for thinking he could ignore his feelings for you and date someone else.

Talking to you in the elevator. Crap.

He buries his head into his pillow. Why did he blabber to you like that? His brother would kill him if he knew what he said. He probably already wants to kill him for loudly proclaiming how much he loves him in the hallway. Rafe’s not one for any sort of PDA.

Zach picks up his phone to text you: Trauma dumping to you was just a dream I had, right? Please tell me it didn’t actually happen.

You reply minutes later: you mean in the elevator? definitely a dream.

Despite his embarrassment, he smiles at his screen.

He replies: Sorry about that.

You send another text: it’s no problem. i’m guessing you have a pretty bad hangover.

He replies: Everything hurts.

You text back: make sure to hydrate and rest ok?

Zach smiles again. He can’t help but daydream about you coming over, taking care of him, cuddling him.

He’s worried about the consequences of things going wrong if he got into a relationship with you. But God, does he want you.

He replies: Ok :)

When he eventually leaves his bedroom, he sees Rafe lounging on the couch, still in his pajamas. Surprisingly, his brother actually tidied up.

It gives him hope that Rafe really is trying to improve himself. He’s had his fair share of meltdowns and Zach’s had a front row seat to all of them, watching his brother break down into tears, spiralling into his toxic, self-hating thoughts.

Once he calms down, every time, Rafe talks about how he knows he’s not a good person, that he wants to be better. But then, he sticks to his bad habits. He never gets the help he needs, even though Zach encourages him to.

Nonetheless, Zach never saw the bad in Rafe that he’s so adamant is there. At his worst, he can be violent, drunkenly throwing punches at parties, but Zach knows it’s a result of his emotional scars.

“Shit,” Rafe chuckles when he sees Zach. “You’re alive.”

“Barely.” Zach sinks onto the other side of the couch, closing his eyes as he tilts his head back. “You cleaned up for once.”

“Did you just say for once? I’m always cleaning up, asshole,” he mutters, making Zach laugh.

“I hope the neighbors don’t hate us,” Zach says. “The party got kinda loud last night.”

“This guy’s thinking about the neighbors,” Rafe says with a scoff. “The girl you were with looked like she was into you. Bet she would’ve stayed the night.”

“Maybe,” Zach says with a shrug, thinking back to his date.

Then, Rafe says he thinks you might be into him, too, considering he caught you staring. And Zach’s pulse picks up.

He loves and hates hearing that. Because if you really do like him back, it’s exciting, but that makes it even more crushing that he can’t pursue anything.

“Maybe,” Zach echoes.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Rafe laughs, thinking about how good you looked last night. “I’d jump on that if I had the chance.”

“But you don’t have the chance,” Zach murmurs. “If you love me, you won’t jump on any of my friends.”

Zach sits up and looks at his brother.

“By the way, you never said you love me back last night. I’m still waiting.”

“Yeah,” Rafe snorts. “You can keep waiting.”

────୨ৎ────

On Monday morning, you finally get a response from a student you found online who’s selling a used textbook you need.

You’d rather not go by yourself, so you text the group chat: i need to go to a stranger’s house to buy a textbook tonight. is anyone down to tag along so i’m not alone?

To your relief, Zach texts the group a minute later: I got you :)

That evening, you’re knocking on his front door. Instead of Zach, though, Rafe answers.

“Hi,” you say. “Is Zach around? He’s supposed to come with me to pick a textbook up.”

“Haven’t heard him since he got home,” he says, turning to look up the stairs. “I’ll get him.”

A minute later, Rafe comes down, keys jingling in his hand.

“He’s sleeping,” he says. “I can take you. I was about to go for a drive anyway.”

“Cool,” you say. “Thanks.”

You watch him lean over to slip on his sneakers, his frame broad and tall. It’s surprising that Zach, who’s usually reliable, forgot about your plans. And that Rafe, who you’ve come to known as hot and cold, is willing to help you.

He locks the door behind him before you make your way down the hallway together.

“He must be tired after practice,” you say, well aware of the team’s training schedule.

“Yeah, when he’s asleep, he’s out.”

You smirk to yourself, imagining Zach adorably bundled up in his bed. You already know he’s going to apologize profusely once he realizes he accidentally bailed on you.

“It’s only ten minutes away,” you tell Rafe. “I just wanted someone with me since it’s some random guy I don’t know selling it.”

“Zach didn’t offer to just buy a new one for you?” he asks.

“No,” you laugh, entering the elevator. “Why would he?”

Rafe doesn’t get Zach sometimes. It’s insane that he’s not into you, that he sleeps through plans with you, that he doesn’t offer to buy you something that probably only costs a few hundred dollars.

“Want me to?” Rafe asks. You have to laugh.

“It’s okay,” you say. “I already set all this up. Do you always offer to buy girls school supplies?”

He bites his tongue. If Zach wasn’t so adamant about m not being allowed to try to hook up with you, he’d flirt and say yes, he buys all kinds of things for beautiful girls.

“Not always,” he settles for.

The elevator doors open. You enter the parking garage and follow Rafe to his car, settling into the cushioned passenger seat. He starts the engine, then offers the cable hooked up his radio to you.

“Already know you have good taste,” Rafe says. You smile, plugging your phone in.

You’re Zach’s friend, but he figures you can be his friend, too. Because he wants to get to know what he can about you, to flatter you and joke with you and talk to you, even though the night won’t be ending with you in his bed. He has fun with you. He’ll take what he can get.

He backs out of his parking spot, putting his hand against the back of your headrest as he looks through the rear window. You gaze up at his profile, taking in just how handsome he is, how nice his cologne smells.

Rafe doesn’t know the song you put on, but he likes it. He turns forward in his seat, driving out of the garage.

You chat about your days and even though it’s small-talk, it doesn’t feel like it. There’s an ease with Rafe that you can’t really compare to with anyone else.

Still, he’s kind of intimidating, but you naturally want to keep challenging this way he makes you feel, cracking the wall he has up.

When you reach the house at the end of a dark street, Rafe parks in the driveway, turns his key and takes it out of ignition.

“You can wait here,” you offer.

“Nah,” he mumbles. He unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

With Rafe standing behind you as you knock on the front door, the feeling of him protecting you is intoxicating, making your heart pound harder.

The door swings open and you greet the man you’ve been messaging. He’s holding the textbook you need and when you offer him four twenties, he looks through the bills and shakes his head.

“We said $100,” he says.

“No,” you reply. “$80. You said $80 was good.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I have the texts to prove it,” you laugh in disbelief.

“Really, man?” Rafe mutters. “Just give her the book.”

“$100,” he repeats.

“Forget it,” Rafe says. He steps forward, roughly taking your money out of his hand and pulling you by the waist. “I’ll just get you a new one.”

“No, wait,” the guy calls. “$80’s fine.”

“Get fucked,” Rafe mutters. You follow him to the car, still mentally catching up to what just happened. “Trying to scam you over twenty dollars. What a joke.”

You settle in the car, feeling Rafe’s warm, big hand curl your fingers open so he can give you your money back.

He’s fuming, beyond pissed off that someone would try to trick you like that. He’s glad you didn’t come by yourself to have to deal with this idiot alone. And he’s not sure how Zach would’ve handled it.

“How much is a new book?” he asks.

“Like, $250,” you tell him.

“I got it covered, alright?” he says. “Give me your phone.”

You comply, still a little jarred but appreciating how quickly he swept in to help you. You watch him enter digits, call himself to get your number, then hang up.

He returns your phone and takes his out, taps on your number, and quickly opens up a bank app.

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

“It’s fine.”

Within a minute, he sends you $250. It’s bizarre how he’s acting like that much money is nothing. Like he’s giving you change he owes you.

Rafe exhales slowly, starting his car again, coming down from the daze. This happens a lot. It’s like he blacks out when he gives in to his impulses.

But what can he do? He has a weak spot for you and he hates the idea of someone doing you wrong, of him not helping you when he’s totally capable of it.

He scratches his forehead. Zach’s words resonate in his head, telling him he needs to cool down and think before he does things. Sometimes his temper flares with no warning.

He’s sure he came off way too intense. He doesn’t know how to apologize for it. Before he can speak, you do.

“Can you come with me every time I have to buy something?” you say lightheartedly. It eases some of the tension in his chest.

“Was that too much?” he says, tone low.

You smile to yourself. You wouldn’t call it too much. He seems like he’s an intense, passionate person. Beneath the surface, Rafe feels more than he lets on.

“You didn’t let a guy con me, then you bought me a $250 book,” you reply with a laugh. “Trust me, you’re good. Thank you.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Zach as you back out of the driveway. Crap I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember falling asleep. Did you come over?

You reply: all good! i figured you were exhausted. rafe went with me.

“Guess who’s awake,” you say, the smile apparent in your tone. Rafe glances over at your profile as you text back.

He hates this about himself, the envy that pushes him to be sure that Zach is so much better than him. That every girl, if given the chance, would pick his brother over him.

“So, you were going to go for a drive?” you say, tucking your phone away. Because of his kind gestures tonight, you’re pretty sure that he likes hanging out with you. “Want company?”

Rafe taps his hand against the steering wheel. Even if this is just platonic, he doesn’t want you to leave his car.

“If I can pick the music,” he says.

“You said I had good taste.”

“Mine’s better.”

You laugh, and because he held your waist just a few minutes ago, you don’t feel apprehensive to touch him. You nudge his shoulder. He smirks.

An hour goes by like a minute. When Rafe and you part, your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing with him.

You talked together nonstop, touching on the most random subjects, finding similarities and differences. You have a deep crush on him. There’s no denying it.

When Rafe watches you step out of his car, he realizes that this isn’t just attraction like he’s used to. He feels like he knows you. And he likes you. It’s exciting and scary.

When Rafe makes it home, Zach is in the kitchen, the whole loft smelling like delicious food.

“You actually remembered how to get home?” Zach teases over the sound of ingredients sizzling in a pan.

“Lost track of time,” Rafe says. He settles on a barstool as Zach stands at the range, trying not to burn dinner.

Zach is glad his back is to his brother, because when Rafe tells him that he was with you that entire time, driving around and talking, his eyebrows furrow in anger and jealousy before he can subdue it.

“But before you lose your shit,” Rafe adds, “it was all friendly, okay?”

“Right,” Zach mumbles. He stares down at the pan, trying to breathe through his prickly frustration. He’s unbelievably mad at himself for falling asleep after practice.

You can do whatever you want, he knows that, but he feels that even though it’s just as a friend, you’re his, not Rafe’s. And his brother getting to spend time with you feels painfully unfair.

────୨ৎ────

The bright stadium lights pool over the deep green soccer field. It’s a cool evening, perfect for a match.

Cold seeps in through your jeans as you sit on the metal bench on the sideline. You have your phone at the ready to film the team as they rush the field for a home game.

You’ve grown to love your job. You found great friends, the TikTok account is earning more traction, and you’ve started to genuinely enjoy coming out to games and cheering on your school’s team.

It’s been almost a week since your night with Rafe. You haven’t seen him or Zach since. You welcome the distance. Liking them both is ridiculously confusing.

Minutes pass. The crowd is getting louder. The team still isn’t out on the field. Your dad runs a tight ship, so it’s weird that they’re late.

You head into the stadium tunnel towards the locker room, curiosity nagging you. A group of players are standing outside the door and you approach Chance.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“Something’s up with Zach,” Chance tells you. Alarm rushes through you and you step into the locker room without a second thought.

Zach’s sitting on the bench by his locker, hunched over, surrounded by your dad, the team’s medic, and a few other players.

“Is everything okay?” you ask.

Zach looks up at you. His eyes are sunken, his lips parted. And then, he loses consciousness.

When his eyelids flutter open, the brightness of the room is so painful that he has to squint.

“He’s up,” he hears. It’s you. He hasn’t heard your voice in a while. He misses it.

He slowly comes to, realizing he’s in a hospital bed. You’re sitting to his left. The team medic is standing at the end of the bed with a doctor. He’s hooked up to an IV.

“What happened?” he rasps.

“You’re dehydrated,” the medic explains, leaning over to hand a plastic cup of water to Zach. “You’re at Trinity Hospital. You’re okay. Drink.”

Zach weakly picks it up, downing the cool water, his throat feeling raw. He rolls his head to look at you again. He knows it’s wrong, but he’s relieved that you look so concerned for him. That you’re here.

The doctor introduces herself, then explains that Zach was unconscious for so long that she’d prefer to keep him overnight to monitor him.

The news makes everything in him twist with worry and frustration. He just wants to go home. He doesn’t want Rafe to spiral.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m alright, though?”

“I’m not worried,” the doctor replies. “I just want to be sure you’re in good shape before I send you home.”

Within a few minutes, the doctor leaves the room. Then, the medic encourages Zach to drink more fluids, calls the coach to update him, and asks if you want to head back together now that you’re sure Zach’s okay.

You politely decline. You’re too worried to leave him alone so fast. And shortly after, it’s just you two in the room, listening to the beeps of Zach’s pulse.

“Dehydrated?” you say playfully, but still worried. “What the hell, Cameron?”

“I know,” he says with a smile. He regrets going hard at the gym today. He’s sure that’s what did it. “Rookie move.”

“I specifically told you to hydrate like, two days ago.”

Zach’s laugh is boyish. He reaches for your hand and squeezes. You remind yourself it’s likely nothing more than a friendly gesture.

“That was hangover advice,” he says. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand.

“It was life advice, actually.” You inhale slowly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He lets go of your hand, remembering you can hear his pulse right now and not wanting to risk you witnessing it beat faster.

“It was way more than two days ago, by the way,” he says. He threads his fingers through his hair, suddenly self-conscious of how bad he must look right now. “Where’ve you been?”

You look down at your lap. You’ve been declining all the invitations to hang out in the group chat because the past few days have been so confusing.

Seeing Zach with another girl was painful, and then, you realized just how unimportant you felt to him when he slept through your plans, even though it was by mistake. You need time and space to stop liking him before you can hang out again.

“School’s been kicking my ass,” you lie.

“Do you need help?” he asks. He’d do anything to have you around again.

“Leave it to you to be in a hospital bed asking if you can help,” you mumble. Zach laughs. You try and fail not to fawn over his perfect smile.

“Did I faint in front of everybody?” he says, fixing his hair again.

“Not everybody,” you half-laugh. “But, seriously, everyone was really worried. We all care about you a lot.”

His heart warms. He may be in the hospital, but right now, he’s grateful for having people who care about him. It’s all he ever wanted.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Zach says softly. “And for staying.”

You nod. You were so worried that you told your dad you were going with the paramedics when they arrived, not even considering that you had work to do, that Zach was already taken care of.

“Of course,” you reply. “You said you don’t like being alone, remember? In that dream you had?”

Zach huffs a laugh and looks away, embarrassed as he thinks about that night in the elevator, but still appreciative.

“Did anyone call my brother?” he asks.

“I texted him that I’m with you at the hospital. He hasn’t replied yet.”

Zach nods and thanks you. He tries not to fixate on the fact that you have Rafe’s number. He looks at the clock hanging on the wall to see it’s late in the evening. He figures Rafe’s out with friends or with a girl, not paying attention to his phone.

He wishes he could just talk to him. With every second that passes, he worries more and more about Rafe’s reaction to him being here.

“I should’ve grabbed your phone from the locker room so you could talk to him directly,” you say regretfully. “But I told Chance to get your things for you after the game. Is there anyone else I should contact?”

Admittedly, you’re bracing yourself for him to mention the girl from the other night. Or any girl, really. But he only shakes his head no.

A nurse comes in to remind you that visiting hours are up soon. Zach sits up, visibly on edge, asking her when he can have visitors tomorrow. She tells him 9 a.m.

Knowing he won’t be able to see his brother in person tonight makes him anxious.

After the nurse leaves, Zach frantically asks if he can send a voice-note to Rafe on your phone. You open the conversation and hand your phone to Zach, noticing the nervous way he’s chewing on his lip.

“Hey,” he says into the speaker. “It’s nothing. I passed out from dehydration and I’m at Trinity and they’re keeping me overnight just to be sure I’m good, but the doctor’s not worried.”

His eyes flit to you and he swallows hard.

“This is nothing like the last time, okay? I know your mind’s gonna go there and this is not even close,” he continues. “You can come see me at nine tomorrow. And you better bring me food.”

Zach ends the recording, sends it, and gives you back your phone.

“Thanks,” he breathes. You nod, your eyebrows knitting in confusion and worry.

“Sure,” you say. “Is there anything I can do?”

Zach scratches the back of his neck.

“When he answers, please tell him that you saw for yourself that I’m okay,” he says. “He might be a little freaked out.”

You agree, not wanting to pry, and start to collect your things. There’s no television in the room and you feel bad that Zach’ll be left alone with nothing to entertain him. You want to help.

You tell him you’ll be right back, then rush downstairs at a vending machine you saw when you came in. After, you drop by the gift shop. It’s closed, the flowers and balloons locked up, but you’re still able to pick up a book sitting on a rack.

You leave behind more than enough cash for the book on the counter and go back to Zach’s room.

“Snacks,” you say breathlessly when you enter, dropping the bags of chips and candy and the paperback on the bed, “and a book. Hopefully, this’ll keep you entertained. And don’t tell my dad about the junk food. You know how he is about an athlete’s diet.”

Zach smiles at you, his eyes soft. With everything you’ve done tonight, you could simply be showing what a good friend you are, but what if you feel something for him, too?

The mention of his coach is reminder enough of why he doesn’t pursue this. It could get messy. But maybe he should be more like his brother. Taking risks. Allowing himself to do what he wants to do.

“I should go,” you sigh, looking at the clock. “Feel better, okay? We don’t stand a chance of winning without you.”

He laughs, his eyes lingering on you.

“Thanks,” Zach says. You turn to leave. He stops you with a gentle, “Hey.”

You stop, turning back to look at him. Zach takes you in, how good he feels when you’re around, how there’s still a little bit of worry written into your cute features.

He won’t tell you that he wants to you to be his girlfriend. Not like this, when he’s hooked up to monitors, stuck in a bed. He’ll do it when he’s out of here. He’ll do it when he can hold your face in his hands and tell you how much you mean to him.

“Seriously, thank you,” he tells you. “You’re amazing.” You smile at him again. If only he knew how much his words mean to you.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

You’re pacing through the parking lot when your phone buzzes. It’s Rafe calling you. You answer quickly. He says your name, his voice strained.

“I’m here. Is it too late to see him?”

“Yeah, visiting hours are over. I’m just leaving now,” you say, looking around the dark lot in case you can spot him. “But, honestly, he’s okay.”

“Does he…” Rafe pauses. “I think I see you.”

You approach each other under the starry sky, meeting by a line of parked cars.

His eyes are glossy. He’s been crying. No wonder Zach was so worried. He must have known the effect this would have on his brother. There’s more to this than you realize.

“Hi,” you say softly, ending the call. “It’s okay. He’s acting totally like himself.”

“He doesn’t have his phone?”

“No,” you say. “But I made sure someone’ll pick his stuff up for him.”

“What happened?”

“Before the game tonight, he was in the locker room and he looked really tired,” you explain. “He passed out, but he was already sitting and someone caught him, so he didn’t hit his head or anything. They have him on an IV and drinking lots of fluids.”

“Okay,” he mutters. “Fuck. I was at a bar and I wasn’t checking my phone… I got into a cab as fast as I could.”

“It’s okay,” you console him. “He’s good. He was more worried about you than himself.”

Rafe sighs, hands on his hips as he looks down and paces back and forth, hair hanging over his head. You can hear him panting.

“He was worried about me?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say?” Rafe asks the question the same tense way he did the night of the party. He’s so closed off, clearly upset at the thought of you knowing anything he doesn’t want you to know.

“I heard the voice-note he sent you,” you admit, “and he said you might be freaked out, but he didn’t tell me anything else. I didn’t ask. It’s not my business.”

Rafe chews on his lip the same nervous way Zach does. For once, you see a similarity between them.

His breathing gets even shallower. He rests his hands on the rear window of the van parked next to him. His body curls forward. His skin is flushed.

You step a little closer, searching his face in the light of the lamps lining the parking lot. He’s distraught.

“Rafe,” you say quietly.

His stare is on the ground, his chest heaving now. Something bad has been triggered in him.

“Hey,” you say.

“You can go home now,” he mutters breathlessly.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” you say. You take a risk, placing a hand on his back, feeling it rise and fall quickly.

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” you say evenly. “I get that this is scary, but I promise you, everything’s okay. Zach is okay.”

Rafe’s chest is tight. His veins are made of ice. He feels like punching something. He hates this familiar loss of control, this shock of the world crumbling around him with no warning.

Yet while he thought that he’d hate someone touching him like this, that he’d hate being so vulnerable, he actually feels a little better.

You continue to rub his back, sweetly and tenderly. The touches he shares with girls are never like this. They’re always superficial, fuelled by lust. But this feels like real, sincere care.

“You took a cab here?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he rasps.

“Did you talk to the driver?”

“What?”

“Did you?” you say. “What kind of car was it?”

It’s all in an effort to distract him, and while Rafe stammers his way through his answers about the driver and the car and the bar he was at, you notice his breathing start to even out.

Minutes later, his heart isn’t racing as fast. His chest isn’t as tight. He can think clearer.

He’s embarrassed, but relieved you were here to talk him down before he ran into the hospital and demanded to see his brother. He now realizes how bad that could’ve gone.

“I don’t…” he stammers. He doesn’t know how to say that this doesn’t happen all that often, that this is a piece of him he typically buries deep from everyone.

“What?”

“You probably think I’m crazy.” Saying the word out loud hurts more than he expected. It’s what he’s felt all his life, that something isn’t wired right in his brain.

“No. I get it,” you say. You shake your head. “I mean, I don’t know what happened, but… I’m guessing he was in the hospital for something before, right?”

Rafe meets your eyes, straightening.

“I get why you’re freaked out,” you say. “I would be, too. Memories can mess with us.”

The way you just calmed him down, the sympathy in your tone, the alcohol swimming in his system are what push him to actually be honest with someone for once in a long time.

“We almost lost him,” he admits. “A long time ago.”

Your face falls in sorrow, eyes searching his face. He looks down at the ground, too uncomfortable to meet your gaze again.

“I almost lost him,” Rafe mumbles, his voice thin. Because, really, he knows he would’ve felt the loss the hardest. His brother is the most important person in his life. Always has been.

And to lose him, someone so irreplaceable, someone he was with from the moment he was a living thing, would kill him. Zach’s right, even though he’s joking, that Rafe doesn’t tell him he loves him enough.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “How old were you?”

“Fourteen,” Rafe says.

It was mere months after their mother abandoned them, saying she couldn’t stay with their father anymore, that she did everything she could do as a mom, that she was done.

It left a hole in Rafe that he feels every day. If Zach feels it, he does an incredible job hiding it.

He still doesn’t know what the final straw was. Why fourteen years of her sons’ lives was enough for her. How could a parent decide that they had enough of their kids forever?

She wasn’t the best mom, unpredictable and erratic, but he loved her. There had to be something wrong with her mind for her to act like that. To leave. Something that Rafe is sure skipped Zach and was passed on to him.

“That’s so young,” you say sadly.

“He was really sick for a while.” Rafe’s heart twists thinking about it.

How a freak case of pneumonia had Zach bedridden, his lungs fighting to keep breathing. How mad Rafe was at his brother, as if he did it on purpose. How sure he was that in some twisted way, his mother’s sudden abandonment triggered it.

He still regrets how he acted when Zach was discharged. He couldn’t talk to him for days. He was too angry for scaring him into thinking he was going to lose his best friend, his anchor.

“How long?” you ask.

“Weeks,” Rafe tells you. “And you know Zach. He kept telling everyone he was fine. Even as a kid, he didn’t want people to worry about him.”

“He is like that, isn’t he?” you say with a soft chuckle. Since you met Zach, you quickly learned he dismisses any notion of needing any sort of help. “But I promise, this isn’t one of those cases. I saw for myself. He’s good. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Rafe nods quickly, finally looking at you.

“You’ll see him tomorrow,” you say with a small smile, sad but touched that he opened up to you like this. “Until then, just try to relax.”

Rafe loves the feeling of your hand on him. He can’t remember the last time he loved someone’s touch. If he ever even did.

He’s keeping his promise to Zach. He won’t hook up with you. Because he wants more than that. He wants to know you and for you to know him. He wants you to stay the night, every night. He wants you to be his.

And he needs to be sure you don’t feel anything for his brother.

“Are you and him…” He swallows hard. “Is there anything there?”

Your forehead crinkles in confusion. Zach had told you that his brother was his best friend. You’re sure he would’ve told him if he felt something for you.

If he has to ask, Zach must not talk about you much at all. You’re nothing but a friend to him. Although you do have feelings for him, you were right to be apprehensive from the start. He doesn’t like you like that.

“No,” you finally say.

Rafe nods. At least there’s no unrequited feelings on either side. He must have been reading into things, imagining you looking at his brother a certain way.

“You wanna grab some food?” Rafe asks impulsively.

You agree. Right now, there’s nothing else you’d rather do.

Rafe’s been on a handful of dates before, but sitting across from you at a quiet late-night diner, sobering up, getting to know you more and more makes him feel like he’s living in a dream.

He’s never felt this way about a girl before. Scared in a good way. Slowly, he opens up little by little, peeling back layers of the wall he’s been hiding behind for years.

He shares what happened with his mom. How Zach was the strong one, while Rafe acted out and made his life hell. You take in every word, seeing just how much guilt and shame and pain he carries around.

You open up, too, sharing things you don’t tell many people. He’s a good listener, and the eyes you thought didn’t have much hope behind them at first aren’t cold at all by the end of the night.

It’s one in the morning when you part ways. Rafe shares a cab with you, making sure you get dropped off first, watching you step through the front door.

Everything in him wants to invite you to his place, but things are going to be different with you. He won’t rush into numbing himself with sex like he always does, because he refuses to be numb or absent or checked out with you in any way.

────୨ৎ────

“What kind of grown man forgets to drink water?”

Zach looks up from his orange juice to see Rafe walking into his hospital room.

He chuckles, asking Rafe not to give him shit for this because you already did. The mention of your name makes Rafe’s heart feel lighter in this tense moment.

Because of how good it felt to be so open with you last night, expressing just how important Zach is to him, remembering everything they’d gone through together, Rafe doesn’t shy away from leaning over to hug his brother, who stiffens in his bed.

“Uh, good morning to you, too?” Zach laughs. “Is this a hug? What the hell? Who are you?”

“I love you, too,” Rafe mumbles, pulling back and holding up a paper bag of breakfast for him. “And I got you your food, princess.”

“You try eating hospital food,” Zach replies, taking the bag, feeling ravenous.

Rafe settles on the chair, remembering his brother at fourteen, picking apart at the food they served him with a look of disgust, yet telling the nurses ‘it’s good, thank you’ when they asked if he was enjoying his meal.

Rafe urged his dad to bring his brother home-cooked food almost every day of his hospital stay. It was one of the little ways he showed up for Zach, taking care of him instead of the other way around for once.

“What’d the doctor say?” Rafe asks. “Do you feel better?”

“She hasn’t come to see me yet, but I feel totally fine.” Zach digs into his breakfast. “How are you?”

Rafe looks down at his lap, sighing before he speaks.

“I freaked out,” Rafe admits. Zach stills. “She told me you said I would and you were right. But, man… she knew exactly what to do.”

“It happened when you were with her?” Zach knows what Rafe’s breakdowns look like. He has full-blown panic attacks. He’s nearly inconsolable. He wonders how jarring that must have been for you.

“Out in the parking lot,” he says. “It was just too much. All that shit came rushing back.”

Rafe shrugs, defeated. Sometimes, he’s able to give into the fact that he can do nothing but surrender to the chaos in his mind. He felt safe doing it in front of you last night. He felt safe every second he was with you.

“Are you okay now?” Zach asks. He notices the hint of a smile in Rafe’s face. A brightness he hasn’t seen in him in a long time.

“Yeah,” Rafe says. “I gotta ask you something, though.”

“What?”

“Does ‘off limits’ mean I can’t date her?”

“Date her?” Zach repeats, in disbelief. “You want to date her? Like, commit to her? You don’t commit to anyone.”

Rafe breathes a chuckle, pursing his lips.

“Well, now, I want to.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

Rafe looks like he got rid of a ten-ton weight that was sitting on his shoulders. He’s relaxed. He’s content. Zach can’t remember the last time he saw him like this.

Zach became hyperaware of other people’s emotions at a young age. When their parents would argue, he saw what it did to Rafe, who would shut down and lash out. Zach would distract his brother in every way he could.

Then their mom left and it became ten times harder to keep Rafe steady. But Zach did it and he never stopped trying. Because helping others, putting their feelings first, really does make Zach happy.

But right now, he feels really far from happy.

He looks down at his food. He had it all planned out. He’d get in his best clothes, find a nice place to take you, give you a whole speech about how he hasn’t stopped thinking about you for days and how happy you make him and how happy he could make you.

“She feels the same way? Did something happen between you?” Zach asks. His chest is a hole. A pit.

“Nothing happened,” Rafe says, scratching the back of his neck.

It was nearly impossible for Rafe not to give into the impulse to hold your hand in the booth you sat at together last night and tell you how pretty you are and how much fun he has with you.

But he really does want to be a better person. He wants to think before he acts. And that means checking in with Zach that he’s okay with this, considering how tense he is about Rafe getting involved with his friends.

“But I think she might like me, too,” Rafe says. “And I made sure she’s not into you. I guess I was just reading into stuff before.”

That’s the moment Zach’s heart breaks. He licks his lips, his stare low. So, you would’ve just rejected him.

“You really like her?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“Why?”

“Don’t make me be corny,” he groans.

Zach’s head is pounding. He wants to be mad at Rafe. But he had so many opportunities to tell him that he likes you, and he was too chicken to admit it. And now, his brother is falling for you. And he looks so happy doing it.

“You’re gonna have to be corny,” Zach says. “I need to be sure you’re not just messing around.”

Rafe sighs. It’s always Zach doing this, gushing over a girl, freaking out over if she hasn’t texted him back, getting all nervous before a date. Rafe used to tease him about it. He gets it now, though.

“You suck,” Rafe scoffs, tensing up. It’s hard for him to talk like this, but he forces the words out. “I don’t know. I like who I am when I’m around her. And it’s… when she’s in the room, everything’s better, you know?”

“Yeah,” Zach says. He knows. He feels the exact same way.

“Is that corny enough for you?” Rafe says with a scoff. “Are you cool with this or no?”

Zach chews his food slowly only to buy time before he has to speak again. He’s trying to act unbothered and it’s working, considering how in the clouds Rafe seems.

He has no idea that Zach is falling for you. Because he’s too busy doing it, too.

He meets his brother’s eyes. He takes a deep breath. And, because Rafe’s happiness has always been more important to him than his own, he gives him his blessing.

“Go for it,” Zach says. “And don’t hurt her.”

He’s never felt so bitter. He hates that he hopes you’ll have a change of heart. He hates that he feels like he’d treat you better. He hates all of this. But he stays silent.

────୨ৎ────

You’re having a late breakfast when Zach replies to your text asking to keep you updated.

Doctor cleared me. I’m home and I got my stuff from Chance. Thanks for everything.

His message is cold compared to how he usually texts. But maybe he’s just tired from the hospital stay.

You gaze out your window, thinking about everything that happened last night. Rafe isn’t as different from Zach as you first thought. Behind his hard exterior, he’s sensitive and gentle and so badly wants to be loved.

He confessed to feeling like something was missing in him since he can remember. The look in his eyes when you told him that to you, he seems perfectly whole, is one you won’t forget.

Being with him for hours was a wonderful haze. You didn’t want to part. He made you feel heard. It’s a joy that you’ve been lacking for a long time.

Minutes later, Rafe texts you asking if he can take you out to dinner tonight. You smile at your screen. You love how you don’t have to wonder about if he wants you.

The restaurant he drives you to is lavish and elegant. Rafe is unbelievably handsome across the table over the candlelight, his dark button-up making his eyes look all the more blue. Your stomach is full of butterflies, yet a sense of calm fills you when you’re with him.

You pick up where you left off, conversation flowing without any effort. He looks at you like you put the stars in the sky. You’re sure you look at him the same way.

When Rafe pulls the car up to your place, in an effort to keep you from leaving right away, he presses his palm against the back of your hand.

“Did you have a good time?” he asks, tone low, adorably nervous.

“Of course. Did you?”

Rafe chuckles at the question. Good doesn’t begin to cover it.

“You’re…” he begins.

“I’m what?” you laugh.

He squeezes your hand gently, turning it so he can lace his fingers with yours. The contact is warm, his ring hard but smooth against your skin. Your heart pounds in your ears as he stares at you.

“Beautiful,” he says. “In every way.”

His tone is sincere and firm. He says it like it’s a fact.

“And I want to keep doing this,” he says. “Seeing you. If you want to keep seeing me, too.”

“I do,” you say. When he leans forward, his kiss is soft but hungry, making your mind spin.

Zach fakes a headache when Rafe gets home. All he needs to hear is that the date went well. He doesn’t want the details.

────୨ৎ────

You’re wrapped in Rafe’s arms, your back flush against his chest, as music and chatter float through the air around you.

You’re settled on his couch, talking with your friends as the party rages. Rafe’s still getting used to what it means to be a boyfriend, tense and quiet around your friends, but he’d get used to anything if it meant making you happy.

You’ve only been dating a few weeks, but he’s sure if this isn’t love, he’s damn close to it. Aside from his brother, you’re his best friend.

You smile when you feel Rafe’s lips press against the side of your neck. He’s ridiculously affectionate, touching you whenever he can, spoiling you, whispering sweet things to you all the time. He’s completely unguarded.

Zach’s in the kitchen, as far away from you as he physically can be. After the hospital, he hasn’t been himself at all. You can tell he’s trying to be, though, forcing smiles around you.

It makes no sense. He called you amazing that night. But, then, he pulled away. It’s like he’s mad at you for dating his brother, but he refuses to admit it.

You’ve asked him multiple times if things are good between you. He reassured you over and over that they are.

Maybe someone else would believe him, but after you pined for him for so long, you can read when he’s trying to hide that he’s upset. At parties, at casual get-togethers, even at work when you’re making content for the team, he’s absent-minded and disinterested.

And whatever’s wrong, he prefers to hold inside.

Nonetheless, while your feelings for Zach have faded, you genuinely hope he’s happy and that you can be friends with him again one day.

The next morning, you wake up in Rafe’s bed. His arm is around your waist, his breath warm against your back. He’s still snoozing when you slip out of bed to get water.

Zach’s sitting at the kitchen island, staring down at his coffee. It’s almost funny how just over three months ago, you were here for the first time, yearning for Zach to give you a hint that he liked you. Now, you’re falling for Rafe.

“Morning,” you say kindly.

Zach looks up from his coffee. His smile doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey.”

You open the fridge, the awful feeling he’s been giving you lately sitting heavy on your heart. He makes you feel unwelcome, which is something you never expected from him.

“Just getting some water,” you say, searching through the shelves. “He’s definitely gonna wake up with a headache.”

Zach tenses. You’re doing for Rafe what he daydreamed you doing for him. Sharing a bed with him, nursing his hangover, touching him and smiling at him and giving him what Zach would die for.

You look so pretty in the morning, your bedhead adorable, your pajamas complimenting your figure. Why won’t his heart just catch up with his mind? He keeps telling himself to get over you.

He notices that you have Rafe’s ring on your finger. He used to imagine you wearing his things. He’d love to see you in his team hoodie. But he never will.

In another world, you’re in this kitchen as his girlfriend, talking about last night’s party, sharing kisses and laughs. But not in this world.

“I never asked you,” you say, your back to him, “how was that book I got you?”

You hope it serves as a reminder for how much you did for him and how much you care about him. It hurts, the way he’s been keeping you at a distance.

Late at night, as your mind drifts away from you when you try to fall asleep, you’ve considered the possibility of Zach being upset because he’s jealous of Rafe and wants to be with you.

But Rafe told you he checked with Zach to make sure your relationship was okay with him and he even said he didn’t feel anything for you. Maybe Zach thinks you’re not good enough for his brother and he’s too nice to actually say it out loud.

“Good,” Zach says.

You grab two water bottles and close the fridge door. One word is all he’s willing to say to you.

You can’t do it again. You can’t ask him for the hundredth time if you did something wrong, just for him to say you didn’t and he’s sorry that he made you feel like you did.

You leave him alone in the kitchen, padding up the stairs. Zach looks down at his coffee again. His eyes are starting to burn with tears.

He wants to remind his brother that they agreed they wouldn’t let people overstay. And you being here for even one night feels like overstaying. He can’t have you and every time he’s reminded of that, it hurts.

He can’t stop thinking about that night in the elevator and wishing that instead of drunkenly rambling about his brother, he rambled about his feelings for you. At least then, everything would have been out in the open long before you really got to know Rafe.

The girl he met through the video messaged him last night, asking if he was up to hang out again. She’s cute and nice. But she’s not you. And it’d be wrong to pursue someone just to numb the pain of not having you.

That’s all he wants. You. And because he was such a coward, he’ll never have you. Maybe at some point, he had a chance. Maybe you would have grown feelings for him if he was honest with you.

But you seem happy. So does Rafe, who actually wants hold you and kiss you in public. He was never like that with any other girl.

Zach realizes that while he was always so sure he coped with everything that life hurled at them better than Rafe, he wasn’t paying attention to how destructive he is to himself. His martyrdom was never a virtue.

He’s too late. He self-sabotaged. He has nobody to blame for his aching loneliness but himself. That’s the most heartbreaking part of this whole thing.

Rafe’s hair is tousled, his smile lazy when you come back to bed.

“Thought you left me,” he murmurs tiredly into your hair, pulling you tight against his warm body. You smile, your cheek pressed against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent.

Rafe’s sure you can feel his pulse on your cheek. He feels like you own every beat of his heart.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” you tell him.

The tension from what happened downstairs leaves your system. You swallow down the tears that threatened to fall when you left the kitchen.

You plant a kiss on Rafe’s chest. You know where you’re wanted. And you’re happiest staying there.

(the end)

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[spooky-bunnys]

Title: Not like other Alpha's

Fandom: Haikyuu

Pairing: Kenma x M! Reader

Warnings: ABO, bad mouthing, and slight fluff

Other: thank you @reallyromealone for helping me write this

(Name) never quite understood why everyone thought his Alpha didn't care for him. Kenma adores (Name). He just shows his love in a different way.

Kenma isn't one for PDA, but in private he really enjoys curling up with (Name) and playing his games. He also really enjoy's (Name)'s cooking, and always makes sure to compliment his cooking in some way. Or when (Name)'s anxiety gets to be hard to handle, Kenma will gently scent (Name) and hand him the game he was just playing to calm him down.

Kenma proves his love in a more personal way then others. (Name) isn't someone who enjoys big fancy gifts. He enjoys the smaller things.

Like the time Kenma saved (Name) from having an allergic reaction to Lev's sushi he was trying to share. Both (Name) and his golden retriever best friend had forgotten about his allergies to sea food. Thankfully Kenma intervened and scolded Lev about forgetting (Name)'s sea food allergy.

(Name) adores how his Alpha cares for him. But he's getting more and more tired of people talking bad about Kenma. His Alpha told him not to worry about it, but he can't help it! While (Name) was the more forgiving of the two there was certain lines you don't cross with him. Bad mouthing his Alpha is one of those lines.

~

(Name) tensed as he sat in the bleachers of another Nekoma High School Volleyball game. He could hear the people behind him talking about him. Which normally he doesn't care about. But its when they doubt his Alpha when he's had enough.

"I seriously don't see what (Last Name) sees in him! All Kozume does is play his games and barely even interacts with him. I bet (Last Name) is feeling so deprived of attention and affection. The poor Omega...."

(Name) grit his teeth and tightened his hold on the railing. They didn't know Kenma like he did. He gives (Name) plenty of attention and affection. Those idiots don't know what their talking about.

"Yeah. I heard (Last Name) has been hanging around the other Volleyball players more. He's probably trying to get their attention since Kozume won't give him any."

(Name) could feel his hands going numb from how tightly he was holding the railing. He was so thankful Kenma convinced him to wear scent blockers today since his heat was nearing in a few days. If he wasn't (Name) just knows his sour would be the farthest from his usual (scent) right now.

Just as he was about to snap at them, (Name) felt a familiar warm hand and the gentle scent of cherries made him instantly relax and smile. (Name) turned and saw Kenma staring at him. His eyes filled with worry and it made (Name)'s heart soar.

"(Name) are you okay? I could feel your distress and anger through our bond."

(Name) smiled at his Alpha. This was another reason (Name) loved him so much. If Kenma felt even the slightest bit of uncomfort or distress through their bond, nothing would stop Kenma from finding and comforting him. (Name) shook his head and sent a quick sharp look to the gossiping idiots above them.

Kenma followed his Omega's eyes and narrowed his own before calmly wrapping an arm around him.

"Come on. The game is about to start and we need our manager on the court with us. I don't think I can be my best if you're not down there with me."

(Name) smiled once more and excitedly followed his Alpha. Kenma may not be like other Alpha's, but he was everything (Name) could want or need in one. As (Name) looked ahead, Kenma sent a deep and sharp glare at the now paling Alpha's. He'll deal with them later.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: A Wonderful Winter Time

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

'❄️IT'S SNOWING!❄️' 

You hit send and put the phone down. You glance through the window on the other side of your desk and smile. You have it all set up so your heavy laptop doesn't block out the scenery, though it's just the alleyway.

The suite in the building across from yours usually has a rich array of flowers on the summer. And the sun hits nicely at a certain time of day and almost illuminates the brick. 

The whole desk buzzes and you read the response. Lloyd almost makes you laugh with only a '😿'. He used to tease you for all your emojis but now you find yourself trying to decipher his use of them. Sometimes he doesn't make much sense. He is a funny guy. 

You pick up your phone and take a picture out the window of how the powder starts to pile on the railing across from you. You hit send and add a follow-up, 'so prettttty.' 

You smile as you peer out again. Another swell of nostalgia floods through you then rolls over to a sense of longing. Your dad would love it. He'd be trying to goad you into sledding, even though he always lost control of his toboggan.  

Your phone shakes violently in your hand. This time, it doesn't stop. You answer Lloyd's call, "uh, hi?" 

"Whatcha doin'?" 

"Uhhhhh," you lean your elbow on the desk, "just finished some work. Was going to put the kettle on--" 

"Forget the kettle. I'm outside." 

"Outside? Lloyd." 

"I know, tootsie, you're a creature of habit but I'm a man without rules," he snickers. 

"I didn't even know you were back," you say. 

"Wow, some welcome, huh?" He scoffs. "Thought you'd be happy to see me." 

"I am," you argue shrilly. "Alright, let me just get my stuff. It might take me a few." 

"Sure thing, candy girl," he says, "I'll keep the seat warm. Crank this thing up to ten." 

"Right, bye," you hang up and stand with a sigh. 

You're happy to have a friend but Lloyd can be a bit... demanding. He's a bit oblivious too. He doesn't always ask, he just kind of does. You're much the opposite but you suppose it makes it more interesting.  

You grab some socks before you tuck your feet into your boots. You stand and grab your jacket. You lost a button and replaced it with a close dupe. Still, it stands out. 

You shove your phone in your purse and pause. Your forgetting something. You scurry back to grab the bundle on the armrest then pluck up your keys. You hurry out and barrell down the stares. He may have caught you offguard but you always hate to keep anyone waiting. 

You kick up snow as you near his car and the doors unlock loudly. You sit with your feet outside and shake off the snow. You pull your legs in and shut the door with a brr. 

"I thought you liked this sh--stuff," he snorts. 

"I do!" You hold out the bundle, "welcome back, Lolly." 

He smirks and curiously eyes the sewn pouch. He takes it and chuckles at the nickname. One autocorrect mixup and it just sort of stuck. 

"Remember, you can't call me that around others. I got an aura to maintain," he says as he loosens the string and looks inside. He tugs out the wolly mitt with its black and grey ombre. He narrows his eyes and slips the other free. He examines them, feeling the stitching. 

"You don't have mitts so I made some," you say, "just in time too!" 

He looks at you then back at the wool, "you made them?" 

"Yeah, like mine," you bounce excitedly, "you like them. I hope the colour's okay. I didn't have black but I found that on discount." 

"They're... nice," he says. 

"Please, try them. See if they fit. I had to guess and my hands are tiny." 

"Uh, yeah," he flinches and looks down again. He shoves his hand into one and raises it, stretching is fingers inside, "perfect. Warm." 

"Awesome," you smile proudly. "But uh, you know... if you don't like them. I know they're not really your style. Oh, maybe I could sew in a Gucci tag--"  

"Stop," he slips it off and puts them back in the bag, "I love em, okay?" 

He leans over and pulls open the glove box. He puts them inside, his shoulder against you, and snaps it shut. 

"Make sure I don't lose them," he sits back and rests his hand on your seat, "so, anyway, you're not gonna make me feel like a chump so easy. You're not the only one with a surprise." 

"Please, I'm not dressed for that bar," you protest.  

"Ha, no, don't worry, you'll be fine," he assures you. 

"Can I have a hint?" You ask as he pulls away from the curb.  

"Nope," he makes the P pop. 

"Hmm, alright. I'll be patient." 

"Just sit pretty, tootsie roll," he steers down the snowy street cautiously. "Wanna turn on some of that girly trash you listen to?" 

You roll your eyes and tap the touchscreen of the stereo. You search for the 00s station and hit play. An Xtina classic comes on and you turn it up. 

"Oh, I love this one," you wiggle in your seat. 

"Really?" He remarks, "wouldn't think..." 

You sit back and tap your foot to the rhythm. You watch the snowflakes drift and peer up into the deepening blue evening. It's so pretty. You're just happy not to be alone. 

You look over as the tires crunch to a stop at the light. At least he has the sense not to drive like a maniac in this weather. As you glance at him, his lips curve around the lyrics of the song silently. You chuckle softly and turn back to the window. You knew he liked your music. 

[hedwig221b]

Do you by chance have BAMF Stiles recs? I'm reading your stories and all you rec so thank you for being awesome!!

Thank you so much! One wouldn't know by looking at my fics, but I absolutely adore BAMF!Stiles lol. He's a delight!

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them."

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

The Roads Not Followed by SylvieW

Scott decides to leave Beacon HIlls with Allison and her father. Stiles is left alone to deal with the supernatural troubles of his home town, so he turns to Derek.

Years later, Scott’s new pack is threatened, and the only ones who can help them are the Hale pack and Derek’s powerful mate.

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

This is Ridiculous by zosofi

There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.

A Tangled Refuge by wanderingeyre

The Hale House has been rebuilt for the past five years and for all five of those years, it’s been a sanctuary for supernaturals that needed a place to stay, a halfway point, a place to recuperate, or a place to be safe from whatever was on their tail. Word traveled quickly in the small world of the supernatural and now they rarely had to seek out people who needed help. Most came to them.

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

Came For The Spark, Stayed For The Flame

Derek felt the panic build up in his chest as Jezebel held out a hand. He smelled it before he saw it, because who could forget the scent of what destroyed your life? Fire and spark and smoke curled from Jezebel's hands, and the wood stacked at Stiles' feet flared up.

When Stiles and Derek get bonded as Emissary-and-Alpha, hidden attractions become a lot harder to hide, secrets are kept and secrets are surfaced, and an evil teenage girl is planning even more ritualistic sacrifice. Canon divergence from the end of 3a.

Dangerous by jjmash

There are a lot of things that the pack doesn’t know about Stiles.

Some of it is little things he simply has no reason to mention, like how he almost failed organic chemistry his first semester at Stanford. Some of it is bigger stuff that he just can’t bring himself to think about, like the nightmares that still plague most of his nights and trap him inside his own mind in increasingly horrific ways.

But most importantly, the pack doesn’t know all the ways in which Stiles has transformed during his time away from them. He doesn’t need fangs and claws to be dangerous.

The Person You'd Take a Bullet For (is Behind The Trigger) by SadieHerondale

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but until he gets Derek back, Stiles' actions are going to be worse than bad. And he will get Derek back, come hell or high water.

Something More Than Human by gatergirl79

Stiles Stilinski has a secret, a huge secret. A secret that will change the way everyone sees him. No, he hasn't been bitten by a werewolf. Stiles Stilinski is the product of a government experiment to create the perfect soldier, a human weapon. As a second generation transgenic, Stiles has been living a normal life with his dad in Beacon Hills, playing the role of klutzy sidekick to his werewolf best friend. All that changes however when Derek saves his life, Stiles finds himself slowly embracing who he really is. - But at what cost?

Red Witch by rootbeer

The red hair of a banshee. The red eyes of an alpha. The red hoodie of a mage. The red of fire burning.

Derek Hale has been a prisoner to the hunters since they burned his family alive. But now someone has come to save him: skinny, defenseless Stiles--147 lbs of skin and fragile bones. Turns out, sarcasm isn't his only weapon.

Oh my (let me look at those eyes) by Gorgeousgreymatter

A few months ago, he might’ve been able to solve this with some force—a little man-handling, a snarl, a glimpse of teeth. But he looks at Stiles’s broken face, knows he’s seen too much horror and blood and evil, the whole Big Bad Wolf routine is just going to fall flat. Because Derek looks at Stiles and he doesn’t carry himself like a teenager anymore. He carries himself like a soldier.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | magical Stiles | mafia | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack

[asvtrials]

Hate that I want you, part ii

hate that I want you      masterlist

previous part      next part initial idea (part one): @floydsfae Tags: @ilovejeansosomuch @spikedfearn @soberbabes @victorysony @ellie1725 @lucycarlisleswife (I couldn't tag some of you sorry pookies) summary: Parting ways with a friend group was always hard, somehow trying to rejoin that group was even harder. Especially when a particular quick-tempered someone is rather bitter about your choices. warnings/tags: lots of swearing. friends to enemies to lovers. Bjorn is a bitter and jealous shit. angst a/n: I'm not very familiar with the Alien franchise so forgive me if there are any inaccuracies. English is not my first language so please be nice. Thank you for the wait, my internship just started so I didn't have much time. I tried to include Bjorn's accent a bit more. word count: 2415

You could've just gone home and drowned in your bed but instead, you let Tyler and Kay convince you to join them for drinks. Bjorn’s snarky comment was still replaying in your mind when you took a frozen beer bootle “Eh, yeh sure. Thanks, Tyler How coulda forget?” 

The metal steps were cold against your thighs, but you didn't feel like moving. You took a sip from your beer bottle—the bitter liquid burning your throat a bit—while you listened to the rest of the crew joke around.

You had to admit you missed this. Apart from Bjorn's occasional sharp looks everything brought you sweet memories from the countless times you stayed up till late to drink and chat.

You expected it to be uncomfortable, especially with Navarro, since she wasn't the most forgiving person. But it seems like your years of friendship did soften her.

She arrived after you, so you thought she'd ignore you completely and just move on with her night but she was quick to approach you with a smirk, giving you a light jab to the shoulder as she sat next to you.

"The fuck are you doing here?" Her voice held a playful tone.

You snorted. "Careful, you sound almost happy to see me."

Navarro tilted her head and raised a brow before uttering "Don't get your hopes up." with a laugh causing you to do the same. "So to who died and made you come here?" She asked before taking a sip of her beer.

You stalled by taking a sip of your own beer again. You didn't want to make things awkward by making the conversation so serious so fast, especially with Navarro who really disliked all that sappy shit.

"I get you." She said with a shrug before you could come up with a response.

You blinked. "What?"

"I get it. If I bagged anyone who had such a ‘promising’ future…” She dragged the word 'promising', copying the way you used to say it when you talked about him. “let's just say you wouldn’t be seeing me for a while" She joked but her words stung a bit.

"It's not like that..." You disagreed and the girl raised an unconvinced brow. "Really it's not. It's just—I tried to get that transfer to the kitchens, to get out of the mines, and all the time I had left I spent with Noa." You explained as you watched your friend take another sip from her beer nonchalantly. "I did miss you guys, really. Ask Kay, I always asked abo—"

"Jeez dude chill, I get it.” She cut you off, moving her eyes from her bottle to you, a small yet genuine smile flickered across her face “I'm glad you're back."

You stared at her, a wrinkle forming between your brows as you frowned, completely dumbfounded by her lack of care.

"Thanks..." You wanted to leave it at that but you knew Navarro, and this wasn't her. The Navarro you knew would give you the cold shoulder for weeks, you were so sure because you would've done the same. So you couldn't help but ask "Why aren't you like, you know, pissed at me?"

"Do you want me to be?" She asked while taking a cigarette she rolled earlier out of her pocket.

" 'Course not, I just expected you to be a little less...chill?" You ended up saying. Suddenly you turned to the girl with wide eyes. "Are you high? "

Navarro couldn't contain her laughter, some smoke puffing out if her nose.

"I'm not high, you moron. Just shit happened, you know. That kind of changed how I view things or whatever. You didn't abandon me and Bjorn when we needed you the most...I didn't forget that." She explained, taking another puff from her cigarette.

You knew what she meant. It wasn't that long ago since Bjorn's mother passed but you still remember hearing about it as if it happened yesterday.

You were finally at the checkout station, waiting for your turn when your eyes caught the small, old television in the corner of the wall. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched the screen in the spacious checkout room show the face of the woman alongside the other two victims.

You found yourself at the doorstep of their trailer. Navarro's state was enough to destroy you. You were not used to seeing such a pained expression decorating the face of your usually laidback friend.

The younger girl was the only one you saw that day. Bjorn was nowhere to be found.

That was one of the few times you saw her in the past months and you really wished it didn’t need to go this far for you to drop everything and visit.

"Is Bjorn doing okay?" You asked her, not sure what you were expecting to hear.

The boy was awfully close with his mother. It was natural, she was the only parent he had. His dad was a deadbeat, abandoning them as soon as he found out he was going to be a father.

"He's better." Navarro confirmed.

"What happened was so fucked..." You comment, shaking your head in frustration.

"Yeah...i still don't know where was he that day" She confessed.

"You don't?"

"Nah, he wouldn't answer anyways."

Yeah, You could already see Bjorn dodging the question. You could also imagine him getting plastered at whatever bar he found.

Your eyes fell on the boy. He was laughing about something Tyler said until he met your eyes. His wide smile slowly turned into a small smirk, holding your gaze a bit longer before turning back to his cousin.

You chose to ignore the irritation that followed after he tore his gaze from you and focused on Navarro. You continued talking, about her life, about your life, then you moved on to stupid shit until it the usually shady sky was especially dark.

"Fuck it's gotten late." You mumbled, the beer bottles you chuged weren’t doing much to help you focus.

"Oh shit, yeah." Tyler cursed under his breath after checking his wrist watch.

Kay and Tyler didn't live too far from their cousin so they didn't really care. You on the other hand needed at least ten minutes to get to your apartment.

You stood up with a sigh and grabbed your jacket. "This was fun but I have an early shift tomorrow." You announced.

"You're gonna walk alone?" Kay asked concerned.

"You can crash at our place" Navarro offered.

"Yeah, you can." Bjorn spoke to you for the first time since you arrived here. You didn't need to hear his next words to know that he was going to say something stupid, his smug expression a clear sign. "We can share the couch, get all cuddly and stuff." He suggested, sending you an innocent look. 

You grimaced in disgust and wordlessly turned to leave, yet you could feel the blood rising to your cheeks. For a moment you thought he’d add a stupid ‘Like the good old times' or something.

"We can take you home." Tyler offered, standing up from his seat and Kay quickly followed.

"Yeah, it will be good to walk a bit." She assured with a warm smile, although her excuse was laughable. You bet both she and Tyler got enough exercise in the mines, and to your disappointment, the kitchen was no better.

Then the person you least expected to speak up silenced all of you. "Nah, I'll take 'er."

Everyone eyed the boy in either confusion or annoyance.

"No" Kay let out a breathy laugh, as if the boy's words were merely a joke. "We'll take her home."

Bjorn threw his hands with a huff and slumped in his chair. "Yall call me a wanker all the fuckin' time yet don't want me to be nice? Maybe I just wanna mend things between us, don’tya agree Y/n?"

"Oh spare me." You scoffed, sending him a disbelieving look. "You just wanna talk more shit about me and Noa and everything I did wrong. You just don’t want Tyler or Navarro to shut you up."

"Yeh, Like you'd hate that, darlin’. So quick to bite back." He said, a hint of a smile making an appearance. “Yer a bit of a shit talker yourself, don't ya think?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the way the corner of you mouth twitched upwards at the mention of the familiar nickname.

“Gosh, you're so annoying.” You grumbled but you had to admit it was nice talking to him normally again—or at least the idea of normal you and Bjorn adopted. You were sure this truce would be short-lived.

The boy ignored you and pushed himself up from the chair, capturing the blunt he was rolling between his lips.

“Let's get goin’, wouldn't want ya to miss your beauty sleep,” He mumbled with the cigarette in his mouth as he walked past you earning a glare from you.

He continued walking as if he wasn't even considering that you might not follow, knowing you too well. God, he was annoying.

“You kinda deserve this for dumping us” Navarro joked. You flipped her off but laughed a bit.

You followed him with a sigh, waving goodbye to your friends in the process.

“Please don’t kill each other.” Kay laughed, returning the wave.

Your walk was quiet, the only sounds accompanying the two of you were the crickets in the distance and the occasional puffs that Bjorn let out, the smoke enveloping the both of you. Sometimes you would hear the loud music and inaudible talking at a nearby bar but that was it.

It was frustrating. He was the one that insisted on taking you home and now he was the one refusing to speak. Bjorn was always hard to understand but he was especially hard since you came back.

You understood it was because he was angry that you left, abandoned them, abandoned him but then why demand on being around you so much?

But still his words from before—they made you think that there was something more than anger behind his behavior. The memory of the unexpected tenderness in his voice engraved in your mind.

Even if it wasn’t for the all years you knew him, that one moment would’ve been enough to want you to actually mend things between the two of you, even if Bjorn ridiculed the idea before.

“Thanks for doing this.” You attempted to sound as normal as you could.

“Sure.” He replied, not bothering to look at you.

You sighed trying to ignore the uncomfortable silence that clutched at the two of you like a veil.

“What?” The boy asked irritated.

“Nothing. It’s just weird, I guess.” You replied truthfully, too tired of playing all those mind games.

“Very observant, aren’t you darlin’” He chuckled and tossed the finished cigarette on the pavement.

“See, that’s weird.” You gestured toward him with a scoff. “You keep acting like an asshole, then call me darling and insist on taking me home.”

Bjorn ignored your words and just continued to walk to your house, his hand raising to rub the nape of his neck was the only indication of his own discomfort. 

You could already see your house from here but you weren’t done. You halted your movements in frustration, sending him an aggravated look. “Why are you acting like a little bitch?” You winced at your words as soon as they left your lips, you wished you had picked something more tactful to say.

Bjorn turned to face you, eyebrow raised and a sarcastic smile spreading on his lips. “Callin’ me a little bitch? Really? If anything I’m the only one that’s not actin’ like a little bitch.” The boy spat back, approaching you. “You left, for bloody two months, and expect everyone to run around and kiss your feet for blessing us with your presence?” He spoke, his words lacking the gentleness from the last time you had this conversation.

“What, is little Y/n sad that I’m angry at her?” You had to lift your head to hold his mocking gaze the closer he got to you. You swallowed thickly when he crouched a bit to get closer to your face. You should’ve felt uncomfortable, scared even but the way your stomach flipped was anything but uncomfortable.

“That’s not what I said.” You were disappointed at how weak your voice sounded and you weren’t sure if your narrowed eyes gave the harsh effect you wished for.

“Mhm? Go on then.” 

“If you’re so angry why are you taking me home, huh? I thought you wanted to talk shit but you were quiet the entire walk. What is it, just want to be blessed by my presence a bit longer?”  You asked and it was your turn to watch his jaw tense. 

Bjorn held your gaze for a long moment before ripping his icy eyes away from yours for a split moment, to regain his composure. However, it seems to be fruitless because when he turned back to you, his eyes held the same dark look to them. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. Your brows furrow at his movements yet your body refuses to move an inch.

Without a word, he leaned closer and you swore you saw a quiet plea in his eyes. To be okay with this—No. To want this as much as he does.

Embarrassment is long forgotten when you open your lips ever so slightly, running your tongue over your bottom lip in anticipation as his hand slowly reached your flushed cheek, his fingers grazing the warm flesh.

“Jus’ wanted to show ya—” His hoarse voice ripped the silence “That I can make you feel like that, just by looking at you…” He whispered making you shudder. “I bet you haven't felt like this in a long time, eh?”

Dammit…You shouldn't feel like this. It was Bjorn for fucks sake. Stupid, loud, annoying Bjorn. Why was he making you feel like this? He never did before. 

Teasing, joking around, that was good, it was safe. You never wanted more. But now you felt like your body was about to burst into flames.

You only managed to say a quiet “You're a fucking dick…” 

A small smirk spread across Bjorn's face when he saw the tension in your eyes, matching his own yearning. He hoovered over you, lips barely touching when you heard an aggravating noise.

(i love reading your comments babes don't be shy)

[howlsofbloodhounds]

You know, one of my favorite headcanons is that Nightmare's and Dream's Negativity and Positivity auras cause permanent damage to the soul if used too frequently.

My thought process about it is literally just that they function basically as extraneous bodies influencing the soul from the inside. Meaning that, with enough exposure, an actual extraneous residue can remain inside the soul. It's basically like an incurable infection.

Now, imagine this applied to Killer. Killer who probably chased after the feelings of the aura at least at first because sometimes he needs to feel literally anything at all to not lose it (and because the pain that came after the high was grounding and 'fun' in the way he's been conditioned to regard all pain).

And imagine him after running away from Nightmare and finally finding a a safe space with Color only to be hit with the realization that both of the ones who destroyed him left permanent marks on him (Chara with the very shape of his soul, and Nightmare with the black sludge he can never wash away flowing just below the surface). Imagine Color having to gently but firmly refuse to leave a mark of his own. Because that's not gonna make anything better, not really, it's only gonna hurt Killer further. But Killer insists that he needs it, he needs at least one mark that is from something good- from someone good.

Just, hhhhhhhhhhh, the possibilities for angst with this are so many

I love that headcanon, and the thought of that is kinda sad.

It reminds me of this little comic I came across like a year or two ago where Killer carved Color’s name into his wrist. It was for different reasons, i believe it was because Killer couldn’t think of another way to show Color that he loved him other than to leave something of Color on him permanently and that way he’d never forget him.

I wonder what kind of marking(s) Killer would be looking for here, what he’d be willing to settle for, how desperate would he get and how far would he be willing to go to get what he wants from Color.

Does it need to be something permanent, something small and easily hidden or something big enough to notice? Can it be temporary but frequent, like bite or scratch marks? Would he try to get color to fight and bruise him up. Would he find a way to leave color’s mark on him himself. Would something like a collar from Color or with something that links back to Color work, if it’s not exactly what he wants.

I’d imagine the thought of being marked again, even if by Color, would cause some major conflict between his stages—his dissociative parts, causing a lot of confusion and disturbance.

The body may have been conditioned to enjoy pain and torture, especially in Stage 2, but doesn’t mean Killer wants it or even can mentally or emotionally handle it in other Stages.

If Color marks him in a permanent painful way, somewhere deep down it’d register as a betrayal to Killer—and if Color doesn’t do something, there’s a risk of feeling misunderstood and maybe even rejected—leading to distancing if Color doesn’t approach the subject carefully.

Color is in a very delicate situation, and he has to make a choice or a compromise if he’s willing, but he also has to be prepared for any consequences or pushback that would come from refusing—which he is of course allowed to do.

I can see him being willing to find a safer alternative or compromise, and Killer is going to have to accept that one way or another—no matter how may push at the lines, keep trying to convince Color. And even if he may come very close to straight up begging—trying to convince Color that it’d be good, he can take it, it’s just once, he trusts him, yada yada.

Cause at the end of the day, Color can tell this request is coming from a place of fear and self dehumanization, a need for security and reassurance that Color is willing to give him in safer ways, not a genuine want.

{ @stellocchia }

[shatcey]

No sidekick…

I just realized… Leon doesn't have a sidekick. I mean… he had, but after a not very pleasant situation... he was left without him… It was tough. Never thought it would be so difficult to write without specifics...

I don't think it's a problem for Leon to find another one though (if he wanted to). People like moths are attracted to him, he's incredibly charming… Even with all his desire to keep secrets and "I love the whole world" attitude, he must have someone… but there's no one around him.

Actually I decided to check all the princess and came to the conclusion that half of them have no one. But it's easy to explain.

From the oldest to the youngest

Jin doesn't need anyone. He seems lazy and doesn't want anything, but he is one of those who prefers to do everything himself and is not used to asking for help. So… It's pretty obvious why he doesn't have anyone.

We skip Chev and Clavis. The Chevalier has Lucien. Clavis has Cyran, and after Belle got into picture there are two more boys, Hugo and Kai (sorry guys that I couldn't remember your names at first, just don't cry).

Leon… the man in question.

Yves. He just stays away from people with his pretended pride. No one would dare approach him. To some extent, it was his decision.

Licht. I would say that all his soldiers are his sidekicks. They all adore him, but… Licht doesn't let them get too close. And don't forget about Yves… May I called them each other's sidekicks? Hmmm…

Nokto. The same as Jin. Actually I never thought they had anything in common before…

Luke. He's just a newcomer. He'll definitely find someone. There were people at his previous job who loved him very much. So I think it's quite possible.

And the princes of other countries

Gilbert has two of them. He and Clavis are probably competing.

Keith has a butler. An amazing sarcastic butler (It's Liam, right? I feel so bad right now. I'm sorry, kitten, I didn't forget about you. Never!).

And Silvio has Carlo. I love Carlo. He always made me smile.

Azel has a guy who "helped" him… However, I do not know if he will appear anywhere else besides this event…

I cannot imagine anyone with Kagari… for an obvious reason.

And I know nothing about Matias. Maybe.

I almost forgot about Sariel and Rio…

Sariel. No. If you call yourself the devil, no wonder people try to stay away from you.

Rio. Well.. let's say he's too obsessed with Belle to has time for anyone else. But… I still think he's a really good team with his older brother.

So… I can explain everyone except Leon.

I feel a bit offended on his behalf...

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[dekusheroacademia]

I love how much of the Togachako chapters and ending of Ochako in MHA mimic the first ever yuri manga published.

I have been on a shojo kick and tried to read all manga that kickstarted GL and BL, and especially the Year 24 group authors (go read Moto Hagio... her work is wild). Among the Year 24, the author Yamagishi Ryouko who wrote the first yuri manga: "Shiroi Heya no Futari".

This post will have full spoilers for this manga!

The manga follows the story of Resine, a very sweet girl who is also very naive, and her new roommate Simone, who is a rebel, often laughs and can be kind of mean. Simone is much more open with her feelings, she loves freely as well and she soon falls in love with Resine and declares her love openly.

Resine tries to forget about Simone by dating Rounaud but he is not what she really wants.

Resine is not ready to accepts Simone's love - not because she does not love her back, but because she is afraid of the rumors around them, basically of society's reaction. She decides to leave the school.

Later she finds out Simone has been killed and she laments that she was at fault for it - because Simone was killed after goading a man, telling this man that she was in love with someone else when he tried to flirt with her. Simone is stabbed to death and dies because of blood loss, smiling and thinking of Resine:

The end of the manga sees Resine reading a poem Simone wrote about her and for her, and she decides to love Simone for the rest of her life and never love again, always mourning Simone.

The ending sets the scene with Resine alone on a cliff/in the forest, crying about Simone while Rounaud (the man Resine tried to fall in love with to avoid being queer) runs towards her to console her.

This is just like Deku reaching for Ochako while Ochako is mourning. We can see Resine and Ochako both curling over each other's in pain, to cry about Toga-Simone.

Their regret is also similiar, it is not only pain but guilt. Both Resine and Ochako think their loved one died because of them.

I thought the similarities were quite a lot. Maybe it is by chance, maybe it is just because of how influencial the first yuri was in determining the standards of many subsequient GL work, but it is still interesting.

Resine and Ochako are both positive girls, naive girls experiencing love for the first time. Both try to fall in love/fall in love with a boy (Deku, in the case of MHA) which is the socially acceptable choice for them, the choice that society would not mock or shame.

Both characters are put in contrast with another (Simone and Toga) who is open with her feelings. She is not afraid of acting freely, she wants to be free and she keeps her freedom even if that leads her to her death. The "teaching" experience is the same for both Simone and Ochako: live freely, declare what you love without shame.

Many expected that this meant Ochako would declare her feelings towards Deku, and instead Horikoshi uses this lesson to allow Ochako to mourn for Toga and to feel pain.

In both manga, Ochako and Resine end up living for Toga and Simone. Resine declares that she will always love and mourn Simone, while we see Ochako dedicating her life to never allow someone to be abandoned by society like Toga was:

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

dance evening. l Joel Miller

Summary:  this evening was full of music and dancing

Warnings:  tw: panic attack, panic attack symptoms, drinking alcohol, fluff, they are just for each other

A/N: your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The dance hall was really nicely decorated. Hundreds of lights were lit from the ceiling, tables were pushed to the wall to make room for people dancing, and someone was playing some good old music.

You didn't know if your head was spinning from the dancing or from that one drink you had earlier. As soon as you sat down in your chair, someone would immediately appear and offer you another dance, and you couldn't refuse. 

You noticed Ellie on the other side of the hall where she was sitting with her friends, and Joel was watching you from your table, sipping his whiskey.

It was a pleasant evening, full of laughter, memories, and promises that you had to do it all again soon. He listened to all of this without taking his eyes off you, smiling when you managed to go back to your table only to get up again right away.

Life in Jackson went on at its own pace, and you somehow managed to get used to it. On nights like this, you could forget about your worries and the danger waiting outside the gate.

Joel swallowed another sip of whiskey, smiled at Tommy and Maria dancing nearby, his gaze wandered to you again when he suddenly felt it.

His heart sped up as if it was taking part in some strange race. He clenched his fingers around the glass, trying to somehow control this terrible feeling, but he felt that he couldn't do it. 

The cold began to pass through his entire body, and the sounds around him became both louder and distant at the same time. Joel squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath.

You noticed him just as he stood up a bit unsteadily from the table and headed for the exit. The older man you were dancing with just spun you around and Joel disappeared from your sight for a moment.

"I'm sorry, but... I'm sorry, but I have to go." You said quickly, letting go of his hand and making your way through the other people to the exit.

The cold air swept over your face. The dark sky was dotted with stars, but you didn't have time to admire it. You looked around quickly and noticed Joel not far away. He was leaning uncertainly against the wall of a nearby building.

You quickly approached him, placing your hand on his shoulder and asked "Hey, are you okay?"

It was like a hand that appears when you're already underwater and don't know how to get out. Your presence sharpened his senses in an instant. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his breathing. His fists, clenched to white, were heavier than ever.

That's when he saw and felt you. Your warm hands gently cupped his face and guided him so that he could see you in front of him.

"It's okay, Joel... I'm here." You whispered, your voice sounding like it came from the afterlife "Breathe. Deeply and slowly... With me."

You took a deep breath through your nose, inhaled it deeply into your lungs and exhaled slowly through your mouth. It was only after a few times that Joel managed to imitate you, you smiled gently seeing it. Dark eyes stared at you with fear, but also hope. You were his focus, you helped him be here and now, you helped him survive this.

"Does something hurt you?" you asked with fear, but Joel shook his head "That's good. We'll deal with this too, right?"

One of your hands found his. He didn't know how, but his fingers loosened and a moment later intertwined with yours. The thought that he was squeezing you too hard, that he was about to break the bones in your hand, flashed through his mind, but you didn't even wince. You were still breathing together, your hand still tenderly touching his cheek.

Finally, Joel closed his eyelids. For a moment, the sight of his long eyelashes touched you and you thought that it was so stupid to pay attention to it at a time like this.

You saw that he was already breathing more or less normally, but he didn't let go of your hand. He was leaning so close to you that you finally took one more step so that he rested his forehead against yours.

"It's okay." You said quietly, your thumb stroking his stubbled cheek. "We're fine. We're safe. You can let go. Breathe, Joel..."

"You're here." He whispered, and you smiled weakly.

"Of course I am. And you're here with me too."

For the next few minutes, you breathed together, not saying anything, not making any gestures. Only then did you realize that the party was still going on, the music was playing and people's laughter reached your ears. However, at that moment, only he mattered.

"Thank you." His voice was slightly shaky, but clear.

You pulled away from him and looked into his tired face. "You have nothing to thank me for, Joel. You would do the same for me."

He nodded and straightened up, looking around as if he had suddenly woken up from a long sleep. He was still holding your hand, but he wasn't sure if he would be able to let go of you. You were his anchor.

"Come on, I'll take you home." You declared after a moment, seeing that he was already in better shape. "You should go to bed."

Joel nodded again, probably not having the strength to argue. So you led him slowly down the street towards your house. The night was pleasant, but you hadn't gone far when his hoarse voice rang out.

"You don't have to come with me. You can go back to the hall and dance some more, you had such a good time there."

"I've danced enough already." you replied "Besides, I'm taking home the hottest guy at this party, so I guess I'm the winner, huh?" your shoulder bounced off his and you saw Joel shake his head, smiling.

"I'll dance with you next time, I promise," he murmured.

"I'll take you at your word, Miller."

His fingers twitched slightly, but you didn't let go of his hand until you were inside the house.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[akutasoda]

Hi, love your work!! I’m not part of the q nation, unfortunately😞 my dumb brain can’t brain when I’m trying to learn the q language no matter how hard I try…

can I request- Sunday angst where the reader gets in an accident and gets amnesia? Hurt/ no comfort if thats okay!

if you’re uncomfortable with that, don’t worry about it, I love everything you write anyways!!!! Mwah!!

lead me towards freedom, just for me to forget

synopsis - he loved you. let down all his walls, trust his emotions with you and yet, you can't even remember who he is.

includes - sunday

warnings - gn!reader, reader gets amnesia, slight fluff, angst no comfort, religious imagery?, maybe ooc, wc - 811

a/n: not apart of the q nation? apologies, i cannot write your request /j the q language is not for everyone anon, but if you try hard enough you will get there!! but thank you!! <3

if someone had asked sunday if he ever saw himself in a relationship in the future, he probably would've scoffed at them.

sunday had no such time for those feelings. the bigger picture was much more important to him, granting robin's wish was his number one priority and he didn't want anything to stray him from fulfilling such goals. petty emotions that led to developing romantic relationships were useless to him - not that he even had anyone in his life that he'd ever dare see that way.

relationships only hurt people. they could cut deep into people, causing pain and heartbreak. even uglier emotions that made reality all that much more harsh to those on the receiving end. and that was a possibility that could happen to him.

if he ever found someone he could love romantically, they could see him at his lowest, at his weakest point. they could exploit that. use it against him, rip his heart out, crush it right in front of his very eyes and he wouldn't be able to do anything. he'd love them too much to fight back, they'd open the gates to more emotions that would make him weaker, more vulnerable.

but that was before he met you.

admittedly, when he first met you, he thought you were simply another lost soul that needed saving. the hand of the order to bless you and lead you towards a dream. a world that saved you from the harshness of current reality. and it was his duty to lead you, another sheep among the herd lead towards freedom of reality.

but you weren't a sheep. you were a wolf in sheep's clothing.

yet it remained the same, he wanted to guide you away from suffering and pain. even more so than the rest of the flock.

sunday still denied it. either he couldn't recognise the signs or he simply couldn't believe that such emotions were being evoked from him - the lines were very blurred. either way, it wasn't immediately recognisable to him, willingly or unwillingly. those feelings would only prove meaningless down the line.

but you were persistent. always there in his life. unwavering in your friendly attitude toward him, unrelenting in checking up on him and showing a genuine interest. sunday wanted to push you away. keep you at arm's length and stop you from getting closer than you were already - in his eyes, you were too close, to his emotions and to getting in the way of his goals.

however, somewhere down the line, he let you in. sunday stopped fighting to keep you away, slowly letting down all the guards and walls he had built up around himself. and now. he understood why people took that risk.

relationships could end horribly but they could blossom. they could be filled with hope and sappy feelings that if sunday ever caught himself thinking about, he might have been sick. loving you was sweet. it was like watching birds fly free, a cool breeze on a summer's day. it was refreshing, freeing even.

it felt weird. he'd never felt such emotions for a person before and yet he couldn't help but find his thoughts drifting to you like a lovesick fool. when sunday caught himself, he felt embarrassed. hiding his face behind his wings and trying to compose himself yet again - it wouldn't be the first time his thoughts drifted to you, nor would it be the last.

sunday could look back upon all the memories with you with a fondness that baffled him. they played over and over in his mind like the galaxy's sappiest film, one that was so saccharine that it was sickly. but sunday wouldn't have it any other way.

but sunday soon remembered just why he wanted to stay away.

the day he received the news was the day his world shattered. the harshness of reality he so desperately wanted to help people stray away from had befallen upon him and his feelings. the news of you “accident” caused him to freeze.

was this your reality? had he failed to protect you from the harrowing reality of life?

sunday dropped everything to see you. he needed to know the exact details of your condition, to know if you were okay. but looking back upon this decision, perhaps ignorance was bliss. not knowing would've been better than seeing you in this state.

it shattered him in two when the news of your amnesia was told to him. if only this was a dream. a really bad one at that, a nightmare if he would. he had failed you.

and as you stared at him in confusion, no hints of familiarity found in your gaze for him,

sunday could nearly cry.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes

[in1-nutshell]

Heyy!! Chromia's menteé getting bullied by other guards when she isn’t around and Starscream finding out! How will Star react? What would he do? Maybe a Hug happens????

I have her new name on the Canon Name List.

Hope you enjoy!

Aquila and the Bullies

SFW, Platonic, Bullying (we don't stand for bullies. Justice for Aquila!), Cybertronain reader

IDW

Aquila knew taking this job was going to be filled with hardships.

Something she was well versed with.

She didn’t become Chromia’s mentee overnight, she worked hard to earn that title, and even more to gain a good reputation to guard the Leader of Cybertron.

Chromia and Aquila in the sparring ring. Windblade and Starscream are watching. Chromia: “Faster! Strike my openings!” Aquila: “I’m trying!” Chromia: “Do you think Starscream’s enemies are going to give you a free pass? Hit me!” Aquila manages to strike Chromia’s backstruts while flipping her onto her back. Windblade: “Ooh!” The younger bot quickly pins Chromia down with her spear. Aquila: “Gotcha!” Chromia gives a smile. Chromia: “Good, but…” Chromia flips Aquila onto her back, shoving her shield in the back of the younger bots helm. Chromia: “I’m still the master here.” Aquila lets out a strained chuckle as her mentor gets off and helps her to her pedes. Aquila: “But I’m getting better!” Starscream: “You must be at your best!” Bumblebee at his side: “You can’t even do that.” Starscream: “Shut it!”

Aquila had met her fair shares of ‘nonbelievers’ and ‘traditionalist’ around the Senate floors.

Even fellow Senators had doubted her ability to protect the leader of Cybertron.

She simply stayed quiet and held her post.

The youngling was getting paid to protect Starscream, not listen to some one doubting her ability to protect.

… okay she was also getting a small raise for listening to Starscream’s rants and practice speeches.

Turns out Starscream greatly counted on the youngling’s view on certain things.

Starscream inside a changing room. Starscream: “I’m coming now.” Aquila sitting in a chair looking half bored. Aquila: “Still here.” Starscream exits the changing room with a violet cape. Starscream: “Well?” Aquila: “…Might want to go for a shade darker. It’ll bring out your frame better.” Starscream: “Knew it!”

The guard slowly learned to work with the youngling, which they had to admit, was almost as skilled as they were.

Some even made friends with the youngling during their breaks and nights off.

They were rare but worth it.

On occasion the other guards would forget about Aquila’s age and go for more ‘older’ settings.

It was all good with Aquila… as long as she didn’t get caught.

At Blurr’s… Aquila looks around a bit nervous. One of her friends bumps her shoulder a bit. Guard 1: “What’s with you? You’re acting like you’ve never been to a bar before.” Aquila: “I have. But this bar…” Another one of her friends pats her helm. Aquila swats it. Aquila: “Hey we’ve talked about that!” Guard 2: “Easy there, Eagle eyes. Your off duty, relax.” Aquila still looking around. Aquila: “Why did the group choose this bar? There are so many other places.” Guard 1: “You scared of drinking?” Guard 3: “Maybe, but don’t worry, we got you your favorite engeron variation instead of engex. Don’t need—” Aquila: “Chromia!” Guard 3: “Yeah we don’t need Chromia ruining the fun.” Aquila: “No! I mean Chromia!” The guards look over and see Chromia and Windblade marching up to the bar counter. Aquila’s optics widen when she sees Blurr at the bar. Aquila: “I thought you said Blurr wasn’t at the bar!” Guard 3: “Guess not.” Aquila spots Chromia and Windblade marching over to their direction. Aquila looking at her friends. Aquila: “If I make it out of here alive, I will beat every single one of you in training.”

Besides the occasional hiccup here and there, work life was pretty good.

…Unless you counted on one certain bot.

He was a fellow Senator and for some strange reason, despised her.

Aquila had lost count on how many times she had tried to recount ANY time she may have offended the Senator, but none came to mind.

It was as if her entire existence was like rust in his undercarriage.

She tried to be as polite and well mannered as she could whenever she addressed him, but he always made sarcastic remarks about her that were borderline offensive.

Aquila couldn’t really do much about the situation.

She was just a guard.

Not to mention that if he got even more angry, it could reflect to Starscream.

She had seen enough times the Seeker fall asleep at his desk and complain about how he was truly trying to make things better on Cyberton.

Aquila needed to make sure that any relations were good, even at the cost of some of her dignity.

She was willing to do that to see this leader make good changes to this planet.

 Starscream was not blind by this mech’s words.

At first, he thought it was just going to be like the other Senators.

They doubt, then learn to, at least, tolerate Aquila’s presence.

But the longer this went on, the more the words started intchying his plates.

Why didn’t she stand up for herself?

He knows that she is perfectly capable of giving a verbal or pgysical beatdown to this Senator.

The question is why hasn’t she?

Bumblebee: “You know she can exactly attack a Senator, right?” Starscream scoffs. Starscream: “If she wasn’t such a coward then maybe she would hit him.” Bumblebee sighing. Bumblebee: “Think of it like this. Your personal guard gets caught hitting or beating a Senator in Iacon. Word reaches out to everyone else, and you know they are going to think she started it. She would be looking at a job termination if they don’t do a trial and it would make you look bad in the process.” Starscream: “… You’ve made your point.” Bumblebee nods. Starscream: “But that doesn’t mean there are… other ways to deal with this pest.” Bumblebee: “Wow, this is a sight. Starscream actually caring for someone without personal gain?” Starscream: “N-no!” Bumblebee: “Your wings say otherwise.” Starscream: “Shut it!”

Starscream was surprised that Chromia and Windblade hadn’t heard about Aquila’s confrontations with this mech.

The more he told them about it, the more he was starting to question why he thought telling Chromia who the mech was a good idea.

As much as murder was an option, he still needed Chromia around.

To teach Aquila of course!

The next day Aquila was getting ready to head to work when she got a call from a fellow guard’s member to turn on her screen to the news.

The news talked about the Senator being accused of workplace misconduct, inappropriate behavior, and found with several com lines to highly wanted bots.

Starscream at his office groaning a bit. Bumblebee: “Doesn’t that feel nice? Helping someone out?” Starscream glaring at the ghost. Starscream: “The only things I’m feeling is a helmache—” SLAM! The Seeker jumps but calms don seeing a heavy panting Aquila. Starscream: “You know you’re not supposed to slam the door!” Aqulia doesn’t say anything and closes the door. Starscream stands up with his servos on his hips. Starscream: “What? No greeting? Where are your—” He stops when he feels a pair of servos pulling him into a tight hug. Starscream: “…manners…” Aquila just holds him. The Seeker makes no move to remove the youngling. Starscream: “I didn’t do it for you, you know. It was out of my best interest to get rid of the waste of space.” Aqulia gives him a watery smile and finally let’s go. Aquila: “Of course sir. Umm, sorry about the sudden physical contact. It won’t happen again.” Starscream: “Give me some warning next time. Now shoo! Its your day off and I don’t want to see you. Go bother Chromia or Windblade.” Aquila bows out of respect and leaves the room. Bumblebee: “… I wish I had a picture of that.” Starscream: “SHUT IT!”

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

How do you think Kotaro would react if he learned about the Todoroki family? He hated heroes because they “abandoned their families to help unrelated folks”, and Endeavour pretty much destroyed his family via abuse and neglect because he wanted to surpass another hero. Would Kotaro take it as a further proof of his belief? Would his attitude towards Tomura, Nao or Hana worsen? If there isn’t much of an age gap between Dabi and Tomura, Kotaro and Endeavour are also of a similar timeline.

I think a world where Enji and Kotaro met is a very interesting one, especially because they are sort of mirroring each other.

Kotaro would have definitely seen Endeavor as proof that heroes are trash that selfishly go to save others, fools that are blind to the extent of the damage they're causing to their families. In that case, I think he'd get worse towards Tenko, since he was the most outwardly rebellious.

Maybe they'd have reached the breaking point sooner, with Kotaro hitting Tenko and Nao finally confronting him and his behavior. Hana is the one who's closest in age to Dabi/Touya and Fuyumi, with Tomura/Tenko being the same age or almost the same age as Natsuo.

Now, the problem is: Kotaro knew he was abusing his children; Kotaro knew he was physically and emotionally hurting his kids and he kept going.

I don't think seeing his abuse reflected on other family would have changed him, but if AFO had not intervened, maybe Nao would have been able to pull Kotaro towards the right path. Let's not forget that AFO worsened all of Kotaro's fears on purpose.

Kotaro and Enji would think of each other as real monsters. The catch? Both of them were trying to keep their kids from becoming heroes.

With that being said, let's remember that Kotaro hates himself. He hates his mother for leaving and sacrificing herself, but mostly for loving him. He wished he had never met her 'cause it would have lessened the pain— her love is a curse to him. He also hates himself for the pain he causes in his home, the way he spirals down on his kids and his wife and the way he can't stop. He's terrified, he's lonely, he's raging and there's no closure for that particular wound.

Nana abandoned him. She's dead.

If he came to realize he was like Enji in so many ways, Kotaro would absolutely have a breakdown. He'd hate himself even more and become worse. No one likes hearing that they are the villain of the story. No one likes hearing that they have become the monster, the abusive figure.

I hope that answers your question!

I have so many thoughts about Enji and Kotaro, but I stopped myself before rambling ever more 😂😂😂😂 hope you have a good weekend!

[glisten-inthedark]

This is a Rant, continue at your own risk

Look, I'm not even going to lie I've read a bunch of things from a Mil*even blog that has both like seriously peeved, so if you don't want to be hit with a bunch of thoughts just scroll by and be on your marry way because now I'm going to speak my mind. Excuse moi.

Will Byers is one of the most annoying, unimportant characters of the show.

Ok, ok. Cool, cool, cool. I'm guessing I watched another first episode then. I guess the pilot of the show was actually called "The Boy on The Woods" or "The Vanishing" or whatever other thing that wasn't actually "The Vanishing of Will Byers". Ok, my bad. Mistakes can happen.

But if that's the case then I'm pretty sure I watched the whole wrong season, the one in which, you know, they spent 8 episodes aka one week focusing on trying to find this very unimportant child. And I'm guessing it was the magical wind that opened the shed door too, got it.

And if asked, I also want to state for the record that you know, Harry Potter is also unimportant and not the boy who lived, and that Luke Skywalker is equally unimportant and not the one that the prophecy spoke off.

The whole story starts with the disappearance of Will Byers, and it progresses as he is possessed by the Mind Flayer and then starts to feel it and Vecna by the end of season 4.

And him being able to feel the Mind Flayer and Vecna. Does that sound oddly familiar? Yeah, if you're thinking Harry + Voldemort I'm sure you can see where I'm going with it. But in this case, Vecna, unlike Voldemort, (and oh, both lack noses and have names that start with V's) doesn't appear to want to kill Will (that we know for now) so maybe there's a fucking reason?

Now that we got the first part covered, let's talk about how he's supposedly annoying.

Will Byers is the most caring, selfless character of the show. He had his hopes, his dreams, torn apart when he got taken.

When he came back, all he wanted was to believe that he could have a part of his childhood back. That's it.

All Will has ever wanted was for Mike to be in his life.

All he ever wanted was to be Mike's best friend. Will doesn't expect Mike to love him back, he stopped believing that would happen long time ago.

To say he is annoying when he has constantly forgiven Mike over and over again is just petty.

Vecna is more afraid of Eleven

Well, obviously. But that's because I don't think the purpose Will serves is to stop Vecna, when he was talking about the Mind Flayer he explicity states that it wants to kill everyone else. (The except him is very much implied, though). So why is that?

Mike and El's relationship doesn't have issues

You know what I find it interesting? Is that this is so clearly not true that I can't understand what they mean.

Ok, let's forget about the whole "not spend time with his friends" bit. We know how relationships can be, especially when they're young, so ok I can understand that.

What I can't understand is how they can think it's normal for Mike and El to continuously lie to each other. And the lies aren't small, they are big lies.

El lies about every single aspect of her life in Lenora, she goes as far as to beg for her bully to help her because she doesn't want to break the facade.

Mike makes El feel like she's a monster. Like he's scared of her. She tells him how he says doesn't say he loves her and his first response isn't to say: What you're talking about?

Its to say: I say it and we are provided with the information that he can't even write it. Almost like what he says doesn't align with we know to be fact. He then goes on to say that she's being ridiculous, and that she knows what he thinks (notice the lack of the world feels) about her. Mike, she isn't questioning the idea you have of her, she's questioning your love for her when she shouldn't have.

If she doesn't feel secure enough in that love, there might be a reason right? But what do I know?

Will needs to learn to accept himself and needs to understand Mike loves Eleven and that's his arc.

Ok, let's say this is true.

Let's claim, for the sake of argument, that this is the point and recap from there.

Mike and Eleven didn't actually have a conversation by the end of the season, their main issue, which even is how Mike feels or doesn't feel but that they don't understand each other, has yet to be resolved.

Saying I love you didn't help El win, and there are lies in what he says to her as well. He claims that he knew from the moment he met her that he loved her, but if that's the case then his actions directly contradict the claim.

If he knew he loved her then, why would he try to send her away to a mental institution? Why would he be so rude towards her?

I could write this off as him not knowing he loved her, but he says that knew that he did so I'm guessing I'm slightly confused? Which one is it?

If he told Eleven that he feel in love with ler little by little, that he's learned all the things there is to love about her I could buy it, but with the way it was worded it doesn't seem to be the case.

It appears to me that people are under the impression that Will believes that one day Mike could love him back. He may have believed that during season 2, but by the time season 3 and 4 came, this stopped being the case.

Will was ready to sacrifice everything, even his art, for Mike. He's not living under the illusion he'd ever have a happy ending, he doesn't seem to think he'll ever find love, not like what he has with Mike.

So, what is the song and dance all about? If this is the case already, we are already at this point, all they needed to do was get Mike to tell Will.

"Look, El doesn't know shit about DnD so I know you weren't talking about her. Were those words yours? Yeah. Ok, Will... You're very important to me, but I love El. I accept you, and you'll always be my friend, but I can't love you like that". That's it. Would it hurt? Yes. But again, Will already thinks this is what he's going to hear anyway.

Byler bating vs Queerbating

I made this joke before but at this point I don't even think it's a joke, more of an statement.

I'd call queerbaiting if they hadn't established Will as queer, but the fact that they did is what gives me pause. Look children, I've been down this road before ok. Been there, done that.

They have established Will as queer and at no point did it feel like they were making him the punchline of a cruel joke.

Say that Mike doesn't feel the same and Will needs to let him go. Again. WE ALREADY THINK THIS IS THE CASE. Most of Bylers believed that to be fact in 2022. People were angry, upset and all that jazz.

Sure, Will learning self acceptance is important, but clinging onto that and forgetting his romantic arc would be nothing short of cruel. Will doesn't want some random guy. He said it so himself. Mike is the only person that has ever made him feel good about himself, Mike is the only person he'll always need. This isn't some passing crush.

Its the choice of making Will so in love with Mike that legit has me questioning these writers if the whole point was to get El and Mike back together.

I just have more to say but I need sleep. I might come back to this tomorrow. You are all welcomed to share your thoughts on my points and disagree if that's the case.

I love hearing other people's opinions on things

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 14

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You finish hanging the clothes from the rack. You stir the fire so it burns a little better then stand back. You linger in its warmth. Now that you’re done, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Especially with him around. 

You bring your hands up to your chest and clasp them. You peek over at him. His eyes open as if he can sense you. You flinch and nod. 

“Will take a while to dry but I think I got everything,” you say. 

His gaze drifts to the rack. He narrows his eyes. You hope he doesn’t mind you touching his stuff. 

He raises a hand and gestures you to come closer. You try not to betray your hesitation as you cross the room. You stop right by the couch. 

“Do you want me to sit?” You point beside him. 

He doesn’t offer any response, not even a blink. You turn to sit and he catches your hips. He guides you before him and draws you back sit in his lap. You wiggle in surprise but let him draw you in. 

He hooks his arms around you and takes your hand in his. You’re rigid with tension. He feels along your knuckles and fingers, turning your palms up to trace the lines. You brace yourself as he rests his chin on your shoulder to watch his exploration of your hands. 

You curl your fingers to brush his rough skin and he winces. The veins in his hands bulge then he lays his hands flat, showing his palms as he rests his knuckles on your thighs. You gingerly trace the thick lines and find another scar along his wrist, jagged and thick. 

He drags a hand up your leg and wraps his arm around your middle. He moves you with him. You let him. He angles to recline across the couch with you over him. He shifts you to nestle you on your side, right against the cushions. He clings to your hand and brings it up to his chest. He lays it there, holding it firmly to his heartbeat. Your own is beating furiously. 

You rest your head on his shoulder and stare at the drying rack. The crackle of the fire underlines the silence, the winds whistling outside the windows, the night rising in shadows. Exhaustion descends on you and you slacken into him.  

You plummet into sleep. Your head thrums from the depths of you unsconscious and you forget all fears waking. There is only the black satin walls and the rippling glimmers of existence. 

You wake alone. Confused in the moment before your vision clears. The planks across the wall bring you back to reality. Your heart rents as the brief recollection of your former life dissolves. You always thought you wouldn't miss that old apartment once you were out but you could never imagine this. 

You sit up and listen to the cabin groan. You hear nothing but the natural creaking of the frame. You look over at the fireplace as it hazes lowly in a cluster of ember. 

The drying rack is gone and the clothes are folded neatly on the chair. Only the ones he brought you, not his. You stand and shuffle into the kitchen. Not there. Not in the bedroom or bathroom either. 

He's gone. 

You wonder if he went off with his shield and body armour. The thought makes you shiver. You return to the front room and add a log to the fire. 

Restless, you pace, in dread of what happens next. You don't know what will and that'd scarier than any inevitability. You walk in circles until your dizzy.  

When you still yourself, you're standing by the metal door. You stare at it. Then you touch it. It's thick and heavy. The reinforced barrier stands out starkly against the rustic and worn cabin walls. 

You grab the handle. It turns. Almost too easily. You pull. Jarred in surprise of how it opens without resistance. 

The blustering dregs of late autumn blow through you. You stare off into the dark trees. An open door but no where to go. 

You stay there until your burns ache with the cold. You're not brave or strong. You close the door and retreat into helplessness. Your head and stomach hurt. 

You go into the kitchen to fill the metal cup with filter water. You sit by the fire and sip. And wait. He had taken every decision away and in this you have as much choice. 

Wait and he'll be back. Wait and see what he does next. 

Time is hard guage within the soulless cabin. When the door opens, you’re as you have been. The fire is dead. You just didn’t bother adding more as the flames turned to cinder. 

His footsteps pound the floor in his neverending march through the world. There’s more weight added to the worn board. You sense him behind you. He moves around your perch on the floor. He rebuilds the fire and turns to you. 

You look up at him dully. He steps past you and comes back with a bag. A bright red reusable one. In this place, it’s a sliver of the outside world that feels so strange. He puts it before you and stands straight, hands on his hips. 

You sniff and bring yourself to sit on your heels. You lean to see inside the bag. You pull out the loaf of bread. Thick cut and whole wheat with seeds on the crust. You sift around and find a basket of veggies and fruit beneath the eggs and milk. You peer up at him. It’s hard to fathom the effort behind his haul. 

He bends and takes the bag. He leaves it in the kitchen and once more returns. He grabs another bag from behind the couch. You recognise the logo on it. Inside, a tea pot and matching cup and a variety of pack of loose leaf. It’s from your shop. 

Your lip trembles and you bite down. It’s a relic of what was. Even if there was escape, there’s no way back. 

You push the bag away and fall back on your ass. You bend your knees up and lay your head on crossed arms. Your tears leak out and wrack your body. He stands above you. You flinch and whimper as he touches your shoulder. 

You tear away and push yourself across the floor. You turn to look up at him, “why won’t you say something? Why? Why am I here? Why are you torturing me?” 

His brows rise and his cheek ticks. His lips curve downward and his eyes fall. He twists on his foot and walks away without a word. You sigh. 

“Fine, go. If you can’t tell me what the hell is going on, I don’t want you near me.” 

You turn your back to him and hunch again as another fit falls over you. All control is gone. Anger, fear, hurt, confusion. You can’t keep it inside any longer. And why should you? 

[theoceanoasis]

Hi ^_^

Can we get a part two of Rodimus being deaf with Drift and Ratchet finding out?

Maybe Rodimus tells them he laid down for just a klik and ended up falling asleep missing their calls and knocks?

They believe him.

Some months later and they live together.

They come home early to Rodimus cooking and call his name but he doesn’t answer. They try a few more times and Rodimus doesn’t answer. Drift yells his name wondering whats going on, he’s about to walk up to him when Ratchet stops him.

He yells Rodimus name too and makes a very loud clap and still no reaction.

“What is he—”

“By Primus..he’s deaf.”

“What?”

“He can’t hear us…he can’t..”

Ratchet takes a moment to think and his optics cycle, “That day we banged on his door..he wasn’t ignoring us…he couldn’t hear us!”

They both look at each other and then at Rodimus who still didn’t know they were in the room.

“Why would he hide this from us?”

“Mechs that couldn’t be fixed were considered mechs that shouldn’t exist..”

Ratchet looked somber, anguish washing over at the memories of so many smelted or left for offlining for not being “functional.”

He lifted his pede and let it hit the floor hard making Rodimus look up. The sudden vibration caught his attention and he looked around confused before turning and his spark froze.

“I..drift..ratchet..”

“Don’t lie kid, we know,” his signing was rusty but Ratchet still got his message across.

They noticed his words were a little lagging without being able to hear them and following his optics glance across the room, they saw his audial implants.

“So thats how you hear.”

It was..painful. Drift sat Rodimus down and held his shoulder struts from behind while Ratchet took a look at his audials and implants.

His implants are fine and Ratchet discovers what Rodimus already knows, that it can’t be fixed.

Drift tightens his grip on Rodimus to keep him from running away and Ratchet holds onto his face plates.

“This doesn’t change a thing kid,” he mouths.

Drift can’t sign but he can transfer thoughts and feelings and he says the same.

—

Just an idea i wanted to splurge.

Do whatever you please

The next day Ratchet and Drift were acting weird and part of him panicked wondering if they somehow knew.

Realistically he knew it wasn't possible but he was still nervous as he watched the two of them. Ratchet seemed particularly cold with him and even snapped at him.

He'd given him a hurt look not understanding what he'd done wrong until Drift told him.

He quickly came up with an excuse feeling embarrassed and silently angry at himself for forgetting their movie night. He should have been more careful and he was lucky they didn't find out.

"I'm sorry. I'd been so tired that night I ended up falling asleep."

"We heard the TV."

"I accidentally rolled onto the remote in my sleep but I was deep asleep and didn't hear it."

He gave him an embarrassed look and was relieved when both Drift and Ratchet bought it.

He promised to schedule another movie night with them and Ratchet made him promise that he'd get better sleep so that didn't happen again.

A few months later and he was now mostly living with them. If he needed to charge his audials he'd usually tell them he needed space and would sleep there for the night.

He'd been so busy recently he didn't have time to charge his audials and they were running out of battery.

Since Drift and Ratchet would be gone all day he decided to risk it by charging his audials while they was gone.

He would have gone back to his room. But that night was date night and he promised to cook for them. He had a lot of work to do and all his cooking supplies were in their kitchen. He also didn't want to be so far away from his audials in case he needed to quickly put them on.

Ratchet and Drift had gotten off work early to surprise Rodimus. They walked inside their apartment and could smell Rodimus cooking them dinner.

Drift called for Rodimus and frowned when he got no response. The two of them called him multiple times and assumed he was listening to music or distracted by something.

They walked into the kitchen and Drift loudly called Rodimus who didn't respond. They don't see him dancing like he'd usually do when he's listening to music and his back was facing the two of them.

Drift went to tap on Rodimus shoulder when Ratchet stopped him.

He yelled Rodimus name and loudly clapped his hands.

They both stood there watching as Rodimus still didn't react and Drift gave his future Conjunx a worried look, wondering if something was wrong with Rodimus. Ratchet however was staring at him in shock.

"...He's deaf."

"What?"

"He can't hear us... He can't..."

Ratchet trailed off as he realized something.

"That day we were banging on his door. The reason he didn't answer is because he couldn't hear us."

They both looked back at Rodimus and Drift gave him a sad look.

"Why would he hide this from us?"

"Mechs who couldn't be fixed were seen as useless and people thought they shouldn't exist."

Drift growled looking angry and Ratchet just looked sad remembering all those he couldn't fix who were then left to die.

Unable to take it anymore Drift rushed over and hugged Rodimus from behind. Wanting to protect him from the cruel world they live in that had tried to destroy his beautiful future Conjunx.

Rodimus jumped in surprise nearly dropping what he'd been holding when Drift caught it. He looked over at them in surprise and confusion as Drift kept holding onto him nuzzling his cheek.

"Drift.... Ratchet.... You're home early..."

He gave them both a nervous look wondering if he could excuse himself to the bathroom and grab his audials along the way.

"Don't lie kid, we know."

He froze as Ratchet attempted to sign. He was rusty and it took him a moment to translate, but he eventually figured out what he was trying to say.

Rodimus felt tears in his optics which he forced away unwilling to cry at the moment as he looked between the two mechs he loved and his implants that were charging.

"So that's how you hear."

Ratchet went to touch them and he flinched ignoring the worried look Drift gave him he walked over and put them on. The entire time his frame was vibrating so hard you could hear it.

Both Drift and Ratchet gave him worried looks as he stood there shaking and trying not to cry now that his secret had been revealed. He was expecting a rejection and was surprised when none came. Instead they pulled him into their arms and told him how much they loved him and that this didn't change anything.

He cried in their arms and the three of them sat on the couch cuddled together. Drift held him while Ratchet looked at his audials and the implants he was wearing silently wondering how he never noticed something so important about the mech he loved.

He looked down feeling ashamed knowing they couldn't be repaired and that he'd been selfish. They didn't deserve a damaged Conjunx and should leave him and find someone better.

Both Drift and Ratchet must have realized what he was thinking because they held him close. Ratchet signed that it didn't change anything and that they loved him while Drift pushed his love and adoration through his field.

He cried some more letting Drift and Ratchet hold him and reassure him in a way he never thought possible.