#(i conditioned them to know it’s Me when they hear a whistle. and she came bounding out of the bushes 🥺)

[meyhew]

my girl was PURRING

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic Cyber Revolution, Entry 64: A Punk Philosophy

''Yesterday's rules are simply loose today! The best goal is to break them! If I don't keep running, there's no other meaning! It's a punk philosophy!''

– Sonic Drive by Sonic X

xXxXxXx

Touka yawned, noting the light coming through the slant window and figuring that she had probably slept in. Considering how they came late back home last night after their mission, it wasn't a surprise, but she did take note of Shadow missing. Well, he was always an early bird.

Touka got up, got changed into her usual outfit and went down to the kitchen, being met by Kisaki, who was scrolling down some news and messages on a holographic screen she generated with her AR Visor. Touka remembered how Kisaki had a free day today, allowing her a breather from all the work at the hospital. It also meant that breakfast was ready and still warm.

''Thanks! Sorry for… uh, 10:45 AM?'' Touka glanced at the clock as she grabbed a sandwich. ''I guess I really overslept.'' She then scanned the room. ''Where's Shadow?''

''I think he's outside. He has been up before me, and I woke up around 8 AM,'' Kisaki replied. Touka rose a brow.

''Did he even have breakfast?'' she asked. Kisaki shrugged.

''I did ask him, but he ignored me. He was too focused on that motorcycle he got,'' Kisaki said, giving Touka a questioning look. ''Where did you even get that?''

''Shadow found it during our mission, and considering just how shady the place we found it was, I sincerely doubt anyone is going to look for it,'' Touka replied, starting to stack up sandwiches on a plate. ''I'll see whether I'll manage to distract him from the motorcycle long enough to get him to eat something.''

''Don't be too hard on him. I remember how, when you got your hoverboard, spent days just working on it without a care for anything else,'' Kisaki said, giving Touka a sly smirk. Touka grimaced, feeling called out, and decided not to respond to this.

Instead, she walked outside, finding Shadow on the driveway, working on the motorcycle, with tools, rags and two small cans of red and black paint lying next to it. The motorcycle itself was cleaned up and any minor scratches and chipped paint were fixed meticulously, making it look brand new, with Shadow currently wiping off any specks of dust that remained. Touka whistled in awe.

''Woah, you did a great job with the motorcycle,'' she said. Shadow smirked, beaming with pride.

''Thanks. It is in a good condition, but whoever had it previously didn't care too much about any surface damage,'' he replied. ''Fortunately, it is now in better hands.''

''Right, however, I think you'll be able to even better care of your motorcycle if you eat something,'' Touka said, shoving the plate right under his nose. ''Also, did you even get any sleep last night?''

''I'm well rested, so you don't have to worry about that,'' Shadow responded in a dry tone, taking a sandwich from the plate. Technically, it was the truth, but he had figured that telling Touka that he may have slept only for a few hours and got up around 5 AM to start working on the motorcycle might unnecessarily upset her and he wasn't in mood to hear another of her lectures. Fortunately, Touka decided not to press the issue.

''You know, the motorcycle does look somewhat familiar to me…'' she trailed off, only to be hit by a realization. ''It's the Dark Rider, isn't it?''

Shadow nodded. Admittedly, while he and Touka weren't exactly good with recalling all the lore information and specific details in regards to the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, they were far from ignorant. Touka tilted her head as she observed the motorcycle, humming in thought.

''I wonder how the Dark Rider ended up in that warehouse,'' she said, turning to Shadow, who shrugged.

''I don't know, and frankly, I don't care,'' Shadow replied. Touka crossed her arms on her back, leaning over with a smile on her lips.

''I bet you want to show it off to everyone, especially Sonic,'' she said.

''I don't believe that's necessary,'' Shadow said in a matter-of-fact tone, trying to keep a composure that showed how he was above showing off, but given how he kept smiling contently, it was clear to Touka that he did want to brag a little about his newly acquired vehicle.

''You could bring it today to the Taylor Workshop for the meeting,'' Touka told him, with Shadow giving her a questioning look.

''What meeting?'' he asked.

''I had been planning to ask everyone to meet up so we can tell them about the warehouse and how someone had been either stealing Eggman technology, or the Doctor had been supplying them with his Badniks,'' Touka explained, with Shadow's expression turning serious.

''That is something that would need to be investigated,'' he agreed.

xXx

''You see, I'm completely fine,'' Sonic said, stretching his arms and legs to show Lucas that here were no more injuries nor that he felt any pain. The teenager was observing him carefully, still a bit sceptic, noting how getting fully healed after only a day and a half was a bit too soon, and he wanted to keep Sonic in bed for a little longer. However, that became a losing battle as Sonic would constantly trying to show him that he was fine, with Lucas catching him in an attempt to sneak out of the house and go for a run. Eventually, the teenager relented, hoping that he wasn't making a mistake. Sonic, on the other hand, was excited to finally get out of the house, wanting to go for a run, only to be stopped when Lucas got a message from Touka about Team Neos meeting up to discuss something important.

''I suppose you could go for a quick run and then meet up with everyone at the workshop,'' Lucas told him. Sonic gave him a two-finger salute, grinning cheekily as he dashed out of the house, kicking up a gust of wind and leaving the door open. Lucas sighed, closing the door, and smiled, feeling a bit relieved. ''Honestly, being stuck at home really doesn't suit Sonic.''

xXx

Sonic felt exhilarated as he ran all over Neos City, finally getting out all that excess energy, allowing him to calm down a little, and rushed towards the Taylor Workshop, where all of his friends were waiting. They looked quite relieved to see him, asking him how he felt and whether he was fully healed.

''Yeah, yeah, I'm fine… I just got back from a run,'' Sonic told them in an assuring tone. ''So, what are we here for?''

''Touka was the one who called us for this meeting… which is a bit of a surprise,'' Lily said, turning towards the person in question.

''I had figured that this would be important information for everyone to know, which is why I asked whether we could meet up,'' Touka explained. Sonic looked around, noting how there was someone missing.

''Where's Shadow?'' he asked.

''He's still out in the city, but said that he'd be back for the meeting,'' Touka replied. Sonic smiled cheekily.

''Heh, so he's late to the meeting?'' Sonic muttered under his breath, already plotting to tease the dark hedgehog about being late to something. The group's attention then turned to the sound of an engine coming from outside, with Sonic being the first one out to see what was going on. What he witnessed made him drop his jaw.

Shadow was sitting on a red and black motorcycle, the engine still growling as he gave Sonic a smug, self-satisfied look. Not only as Sonic stunned by Shadow's newly acquired vehicle, but so was the rest of the team as they walked outside to see what the noise was. Before Shadow could even dismount the motorcycle, Sonic ran up to him, awestruck.

''Woah, where did you get that? May I take it for a ride?'' Sonic gave Shadow an eager grin.

''I have found it during a mission, and no,'' Shadow responded with a smile, only for his expression to turn into a frown when he added the second part. Sonic narrowed his eyes, a bit irked at the denied opportunity, but then smirked as he turned the charm up.

''Could you at least drive me around? I'd like to see your skills as a biker,'' Sonic said, still giving him a half-lidded smile as he traced with his finger lightly over the handle. He was quite amused that, despite the stern gaze, he knew that there was a battle going on in Shadow's head over whether to accept the proposal or not. ''I'd like to see how fast you can go with this.''

''It's way slower than your top speed,'' Shadow said, trying to get himself out of this conversation. Unfortunately for him, his initial attempt at showing-off in front of Sonic was quickly turned against him. One side of him wanted to maintain his aloofness, but the other side wanted to take Sonic along for the ride, certain that he would enjoy it just as much as Shadow did. Nevertheless, he wanted to keep Sonic on his toes. ''You can easily run beside me.''

''I know, but this is different,'' Sonic said, giving Shadow his best puppy-dog eyes. Shadow just stared back at him silently, only to sigh.

''Fine, you can come along,'' Shadow relented, well aware that he would've agreed regardless. Meanwhile, Sonic fist-pumped in excitement.

''Yes!''

Both then turned back to their teammates, some of which gave him curious glances; the most prominent being Amy's scrutinizing gaze. However, before anyone could say anything, Touka quickly distracted them. ''This was what I wanted to talk about. Basically, Team Dark went on a mission last night to a warehouse in Souto, and what we found, besides the Dark Rider, were Badniks.''

''Really? So, the warehouse was owned by Eggman?'' Makoto asked.

''No, it wasn't. The robots looked more like they were scrapped together from Badnik parts. It certainly didn't look like anything Eggman would own,'' Touka replied. ''I had figured that, if you guys would be interested in investigating it, I could show you where the warehouse is.''

''You said that the robots were scrapped together from Badniks parts,'' Tails rose his voice. ''Is it possible that there were also remains of the Buddy Bots?''

''Honestly, I don't really know…'' Touka trailed off, with Shadow, who walked up to them, taking over.

''I have seen some robots that looked similar to the Buddy Bots,'' he said.

''I see…'' Tails said, exchanging knowing glances with Warren. ''It sounds like the same situation the Chaotix have encountered.''

''What do you mean?'' Knuckles asked.

''To keep it short, the Chaotix were on an investigation of their own and someone had taken the scrapped parts of the Buddy Bots and Badniks, made some repairs and sold them off as weapons,'' Warren explained. ''We wanted to tell you that before, but we forgot due to the whole Neo Metal Sonic fiasco.''

''So, someone had been stealing Eggman's robots?'' Silver asked, giving the two a curious look.

''I wouldn't say they had been stealing his robots, just taking the ones we destroyed,'' Warren added. ''It is a little worrying to know that there are more of them, hidden somewhere.''

''I suppose we could tell the Chaotix about this so they can investigate who keeps hoarding Eggman tech,'' Lily said, her and Knuckles exchanging glances. Since they didn't have anything to do, they had figured that they should be the one to deliver the message.

''To be honest, I'm not surprised that they would use both Eggman and Tamago Corp. technology for their weapons,'' Warren continued, drawing everyone's attention, Lucas' in particular. ''They are both high in quality, at least in comparison to other robotics companies, while also being easy to mass produce.''

''Really?'' Lucas tilted his head. ''How similar are they?''

''Similar enough to be combined like this, even by someone who doesn't understand robotics,'' Tails explained.

''Admittedly, that shouldn't really be possible. Robotics companies typically make sure that certain parts they produce are unique to their brand so they wouldn't be so easily copied and reproduced by their competitors. It is common sense to keep your product unique enough so your clients keep buying it,'' Warren added.

''That's… interesting,'' Lucas muttered, surprised just as much as everyone else about this revelation. ''How is it possible that Dr. Eggman is able to produce robots similar to those from Tamago Corp.?''

''Maybe he somehow gained access to their technology when he took over the Buddy Bots?'' Minami suggested.

''Eh, I dunno. Would Eggy really try to steal other people's technology just to make his own robots?'' Sonic asked, folding his arms behind his head.

''Honestly, I can't see that happening. Eggman is too arrogant to just rely on someone else's technology when he has his own,'' Tails pointed out.

''Still, he did use the Buddy Bots against us back when he first attacked us,'' Makoto pointed out. ''He clearly isn't above stealing or controlling robots created by other people.''

''True, but that happened only one time,'' Silver noted. The group fell silent for a moment, contemplating what this meant, with Lucas staring ahead, lost in his thoughts. He took note of his friends staring at him, well aware that they were hoping that he would have an answer in regards to what is going on. Truth to be told, he did have an theory about what might have happened, but that theory sounded rather insane.

''Well, there is another possibility…'' Lucas started, with everyone giving him curious looks. ''What if the Tamago Corporation is connected to the Eggman Empire?''

As expected, the collective reaction was that of disbelief, with Lily voicing their opinion, ''Wait, why would you think they're connected? Sure, both make robots, and they appear to be similar, but last I checked, the Tamago Corporation existed before Eggman.''

''I know, but I was wondering, how much do we really know about the Tamago Corporation?'' Lucas asked.

''We know that the Tamago Corporation was founded by Dr. Telos Tamago, the current CEO, about five years ago,'' Warren said. ''I have read plenty of articles about the corporation, and people were shocked how fast it rose to prominence, becoming the most successful robotics company in Starpoint Area almost overnight.''

''Okay, and what do we know about Dr. Tamago?'' Lucas asked, stunning the group. Warren scratched his head, trying to remember whether he had any information on the CEO.

''I… don't really know,'' he said. Tails immediately opened the holographic screen, searching for information.

''Huh, there are several articles about him from the past five years, but there isn't anything before that,'' Tails said, with Amy glancing over his shoulder.

''I know that there are people who like to keep their information private, but even in this day and age, you'd think there would be something,'' she commented.

''You mean, it's almost like he never existed until the establishment of the Tamago Corporation?'' Silver, who joined the two to take a look at the monitor, asked. Both Tails and Amy shrugged.

''We don't really have any evidence about these two being connected, and even if they are, what would the Tamago Corporation even gain from working with the Eggman Empire…'' Touka started, only to get interrupted by Shadow.

''They'd have access to the Doctor's technology, and we know from personal experience just how resilent and advanced his robots are,'' Shadow pointed out.

''Wait, does this mean that Tamago Corporation is a sell-out then?'' Sonic asked.

''Either that, or Eggman is the sell-out here,'' Lily said, causing Sonic to snort at that thought.

''There is one more thing to consider,'' Lucas added. ''I've been actually trying to figure out where Dr. Eggman's base might be, and one of the conclusions I had was that it had to be somewhere in Neos City. So, what if the Tamago Corporation is his base?''

''But, how would that be possible? Do you want to say that Eggman is actually the owner of Tamago Corporation?'' Knuckles asked. ''Didn't you just say that this Tamago guy owns the company?''

''Yeah, that's what confuses me,'' Lucas admitted, furrowing a brow as he folded his arms across his chest. ''Dr. Eggman isn't the type to even work with anyone on equal footing, so the only thing I could think off is that Dr. Tamago is somehow subservient to him.'' He then glanced at his friends. ''But, it would make sense for Dr. Eggman to have a cover in the form of a company not associated with the Eggman Empire. Not to mention, the fact that this company is specifically called 'Egg Corporation'.''

''…and Eggman is apparently the only person in the universe whose naming scheme has an 'Egg' in his creations,'' Lily said in a dry tone, her and the rest of the group catching on the irony of this conclusion.

''So, what should we do about this?'' Makoto asked.

''I was actually planning to pay a visit to the Tamago Corporation, just to check it out,'' Lucas said. ''If you guys don't mind, I'd like to go there alone.''

''If your theory is correct, and Tamago Corporation really belongs to Eggman, you should have some back-up,'' Sonic said, but Lucas shook his head.

''The reason I'm asking for this is because there is still a chance that I was completely wrong. I could easily come up for a valid reason for visiting it on my own, but I'm not sure how I should explain a whole group of people being there,'' he explained. ''If I need help, I'll call you.'' He then glanced at Sonic, giving him an assuring smile. ''Besides, you told me that I should try taking more risks.''

''Heh…'' Sonic smiled back in response. Lucas then gave everyone a confident look.

''I'll be fine, I promise,'' he said, with the rest of the team agreeing.

''Okay, but if you do run into Eggman, tell him that someone has been stealing his robots and record his reaction,'' Minami said, grinning slyly. ''I'm sure he'll be furious when he learns that.''

xXx

'''Operation: Remaster' is moving into its final testing stages. With this, I will finally be able to break what I affectionately call 'The Sonic Cycle'. To wit: Dr. Eggman stages a bold plan to reshape the world, Sonic arrives, oftentimes with his menagerie of friends, to ruin everything, until finally the day is 'saved'. The general populace rebuilds and returns to their regular lives. No evolution. No vision. No future,'' Dr. Starline said, speaking in front of a holographic monitor as a video of Sonic defeating Dr. Eggman appeared on it. He then leaned back into his swivel chair, placing a hand on his chest as he continued proudly. ''Thankfully, I'm here. Step one of 'Operation: Remaster' will be to remove Dr. Eggman from play. He is a revolutionary, a visionary, and grooms a fine mustache. But he gets tunnel-vision when it comes to Sonic. I have studied under the master, seen his few short-comings, and perfected his technique. He'll thank me in the end, I'm sure of it.'' Starline then smirked, continuing the speech he knew by heart. ''Step two: replace the so-called 'heroes' who stand in the way of progress. The general populace relies on them far too much, although I'd add that this is mainly because of the deal Dr. Eggman made with Sonic and his friends. Nevertheless, it is fair easier to replace the existing heroes with new ones rather than change society. By controlling the 'hero-versus-villain' dynamic, I will be able to shape the world and its people with the very theatrics they've become accustomed to. It has been an arduous journey to complete all my plan, but now, at long last… They're ready!''

Starline pressed a button on the computer, showing a video of a green blur speeding through what appeared to be a training course within an AR Field featuring Badniks and other weapons, continuing his narration, ''Sonic is undeniably the hero of the world, or perhaps more accurately, the main character of this narrative, and while Dr. Eggman has a dangerous weapon in Metal Sonic, I don't believe that the robot will suffice. Sonic is more than just raw power, he's about style – attitude; something that Metal Sonic lacks. I need that indomitable spirit, that rougish charm. However, since it is a liability as much as it's a boon…''

Suddenly, the green blur smashed into one of the Badniks, uncurling as she lorded over her destroyed opponent.

''You thought you could touch me? Pathetic!''

She was an anthropomorphic tenrec, possessing mostly bright green fur with a patch of black fur on her face and eyelids and angular blue-green eyes. She had a peach muzzle with a medium-long black nose, upturned sideburns on each side of her head, peach-skinned arms, and several spiky quills that she kept in a ponytail by a black hairband with six silver studs on top of her head, leaving her quills turned forward. She also had a tiny nub tail split in two, shark teeth, and tall, vertical, flat ears on top of her head. For attire, she wore two silver earrings on each of her ears, a black shirt with torn-off sleeves, white gloves that possess visible lining with black cuffs that possess six silver studs, a silver ring on each of her index and ring fingers, and yellow, baggy pants with black stripes down the sides that were held up by a black belt with a round, silver belt buckle. Her shoes had yellow flares with double spikes that gave them a ripped appearance resembling lighting bolts while the back of the shoes was white. Two white straps could be found on the yellow section of the shoes, which also had black toes, black soles with two metal plates embedded, and silver studs on the edges.

''…Surge will replace him, and I will keep the bravado on a leash.''

Surge the Tenrec didn't even notice that another Badnik creeped up on her, turning around just in time to several water tendrils envelop the Badnik.

''As previously noted, there are 'design flaws' inherent to Sonic. Surge needs a support unit to make up for her short-comings. An analytical balance to the brashness; someone to look before she leaps.''

Surge grinned, blasting through the Badnik and destroying it. ''Cheap shot for a cheap bot!'' She then landed on her feet, turning to the person who had helped her out. ''Nice assist, kid! Don't let it go to your head!''

''Y-Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am.''

The one responding meekly to Surge was an anthropomorphic fennec fox about the height of a child. He possessed mostly blue fur with a patch of white fur on the front of his torso that is shaped like a water drop, and a medium-long white muzzle with pointy cheek tuffs and a small black nose. He also had fuchsia eyes, teal eyelids, long bangs of fur on his head, and long triangular ears on his head with teal tips that hang down the sides of his head. Lastly, he had a long, thick tail with a teal tip. For attire, he wore the Hydro Pack, a bag that allowed him to carry the water supply for his water tendrils, white gloves that possess visible lining with black cuffs that are studded with gray studs, and yellow boots with black toes and soles, and six gray studs along the tongues of said boots.

''Thus Kitsunami was modeled after Sonic's most beneficial ally: Tails.''

Kitsunami ''Kit'' the Fennec followed Surge, but Starline then turned the video off, his mug appearing once again on the monitor as he pressed his hands together. ''Lastly, I took one more variable into account – the fact that I'm essentially repeating my past actions. Now, this might be a little troubling, as I'm seemingly acting the same way as Dr. Eggman with his own plans. But, fortunately, I have already planned ahead for every possible scenario.'' Starline then held up a manga sporting Sonic and Surge clashing on the cover. ''As depicted here, we were all characters originally created for the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, which had its ups and downs – and it certainly improved when my character was brought into the spotlight, but that is not here nor there. The point is that I'm well aware of my fate in this story, specifically being crushed by debris after fighting Dr. Eggman with his own mecha and exhausting the Tricore, but I will take advantage of that knowledge to introduce step three to 'Operation: Remaster'.'' Starline suddenly slammed his hands on the table. ''I will not let myself perish in such humiliating circumstances!'' Starline then held up the coloured manga, tapping on it with the back of his hand. ''In fact, the writer should be ashamed for killing me off so soon. I could've contributed far more to the narrative than this, but it appears that at least my legacy has continued in the form of Surge and Kit.'' He furrowed a brow. ''Even if I don't approve of their idea of turning into heroes as of The Phantom Rider Arc, I will admit it does make sense, as they were supposed to replace Sonic and Tails as heroes and simply following their original programming.'' Starline then waved with his hand in a dismissive manner. ''Nevertheless, I will make sure that none of this malarkey happens. It won't be easy, as I will be dealing with not just Sonic and Tails, but also the extended cast of characters, but human and Irregular ARNav. But, I have faith in my plan…''

Starline suddenly heard a sudden knocking on the door, and sighed in irritation, well aware who was interrupting him. He stopped the recording and haphazardly shoved the manga into a drawer, with the door behind him opening.

''Yo, Doc, what is up with the schedule?! Why do we have more training and tests on it?!'' Surge barged in, loudly complaining. Starline sighed, pinching the bridge of his beak.

''Have you forgotten that you left Kit behind during your last exercise?'' he responded.

''I'm sorry, I had to recharge my pack,'' Kit replied meekly.

''Kit arrived here eventually. The more important one made it in record time!'' Surge protested, pointing at herself. Starline huffed, placing his hands on his hips, with Surge getting frustrated by his attitude. ''Test? Passed! Me? Awesome! Com'n, Doc, let's get on with the main mission already!''

''You've proven yourself efficient in a controlled environment. The next step is to test your skills in the field-'' Starline panicked when Surge suddenly grabbed him by his shirt, her hand charged with electricity.

''I'm really tired of you talking down to me! We go now and we go hard!'' Surge demanded furiously.

''Go to sleep.'' Starline suddenly pointed his gloved hand at Surge, her eyes glazing over as hypnotic waves hit her, overwhelming her senses and knocking her out. Kit caught her, completely shocked by what he saw.

''Wh-What did you do to her?!'' he cried out, but Starline pointed his Hypno Glove at him, causing Kit's eyes to glaze over.

''You saw nothing,'' Starline stated, watching Kit as he fell over. He then gulped, his mouth dry and his heart beating rapidly as he adjusted his collar. I suppose I can only use hypnosis on them for so long. They are indeed more susceptible to it, but at the same time, they can build up tolerance to it. I will have to work with them a little longer to make sure they won't betray me.

Surge and Kit slowly came back to their senses, both feeling dizzy and holding their heads, with Surge groaning. ''Ugh, what happened?''

Starline gave the two a look of sincere concern, masking his true feelings. ''You pushed your enhancements too far and had a brief blackout. Fortunately, it is nothing that will affect you long term.'' He then smirked. ''Now, then, shall we discuss the field test?''

Surge and Kit exchanged glances, still a bit out of it, but then nodded, with Starline getting between them and placing his arms around their shoulders and pulling them closer.

''Excellent! I also have the perfect target for both of you!''

xXx

''Huh, this is the target?'' Surge rose an eyebrow, her and Kit walking between the warehouses in Souto. Both of them were also equipped with an AR Visor for communication with Starline, Surge wearing a pair of yellow shades on the top of her head, while Kit wore blue goggles with a yellow outline on top of his head.

''According to the map we were given, it should be close,'' Kit informed her. Surge grinned, sparks of electricity flying between her hands as she punched her knuckles.

''Finally, some real action! I've been dying to scrap with someone other than those stupid robots,'' she said.

''B-But, didn't Dr. Starline say that this is a stealth mission? We need to pass it to move on to the main mission,'' Kit pointed out. Surge whipped his head towards him, furrowing a brow.

''Hey, do you see Starline anywhere here, Drippy?'' Kit shook his head. ''Exactly! He's waiting back in the base, while we're doing our thing. Since I'm now in command, I say that we'll do this mission my way. You're my support unit, so support me!''

''I-I'm sorry, Ma'am,'' Kit apologized, lowering his head. He then gave her a determined look, clenching his fists. ''I will support you with all I have.''

''Now, that's the attitude I want to see,'' Surge said, smirking in satisfaction. ''Now, com'n, and don't slow me down. I want to finish this mission in record time.''

Surge then quickly rushed towards the next building, with Kit dutifully following her. They soon reached their target destination when they saw a few Irregulars holding boxes and moving them to a hovercraft. According to Starline, who had meticulously kept track of all of Dr. Eggman's robots, someone was taking the scrapped remains from the battlefield and storing them in warehouses all across Neos City. Showing quite a lot of disdain for the culprit, Starline instructed them to enter one of the warehouses and destroy the Badniks within it so they couldn't be used by anyone else, then escape the warehouse without getting caught.

Surge was quite excited about this, and ready to make her move, but Kit suddenly pulled her back with his water tendrils. She gave the fennec an annoyed look, but he then pointed at another group sneaking between the buildings; an echidna, a bat, a crocodile, a chameleon, a bee, and a teenage human girl.

''Ugh, don't tell me that they're here to for the same reason,'' Surge grumbled, gritting her teeth.

''Starline didn't tell us anything about anyone else knowing about this warehouse,'' Kit said, feeling concerned. Surge at first didn't like that they would have competition, as she wanted to destroy whatever was in the warehouse by herself, but then smirked confidently.

''You know what, Drippy? Maybe, this isn't so bad. This makes things more difficult, but will show that platypus that we can handle any situation,'' Surge said. Kit nodded in agreement. Surge then turned her attention back to the warehouse. ''Let the show begin!''

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[l2bbocsstuff]

HAVE LOVE WILL TRAVEL

Another drabble from prompts I get on a Discord server I belong to.

Asami answered her cell phone on its third ring.  Opal was on the other end of the call and she blurted out, “Where the hell are you right now?  I tried the mansion but no one answered.”

“I’m never home on Sundays…at least I haven’t been since Korra’s down south.  I thought you knew that.”

“I guess I didn’t put two and two together, sorry!!  How long has she been gone?” Opal questioned.

“She’s been gone for two months and I’m going crazy without her.  She tells me all the time how much she misses me and I miss her too.  I mean we talk every second day but I’m just not sleeping well without her.  I just need to feel her next to me.  Plus, our anniversary is coming up and I don’t know if she’ll be home or not.  I feel like I’m losing it Ope.”

Asami knew that the confession she had just made would have Opal’s problem-solving skills kick into overdrive.  It did not take long for Opal to respond.

“Aren’t you the CEO of a multi-billion yuan company?”

“Yes, I am and that’s why I’m in the office right now.”

“And you’re missing your wife?”

“More than the three years she was gone.”

Asami could picture Opal raising one of her eyebrows as they spoke on the phone.  “Oh My Raava.  You’re the boss.  You’re allowed to say, ‘Fuck it’ and just leave the city to go see your wife you know.  I mean if I was you, I would book a first-class ticket to Harbour City right now and screw the consequences.  You have great people who work for you and they can take up the slack.  You did train them.”

Asami couldn’t argue with that.  “I so hate it when you’re right.”

“No, you don’t.  You love me!!!”

“Yeah, I guess I do.  Thanks for the pep talk.  I’ll book right now and I’ll send some emails to my team while I wait for the flight.  Thanks, Ope.  See you in a week.”

With that Opal and Asami hung up and Asami opened a travel site on her computer.  It took about fifteen minutes to get her flight and car booked.  The flight was leaving in three hours.  Plenty of time to get everything done.

___

Four hours later and in the air above the Mo Ce Sea, Asami was very glad for the tasty food she was being served by the cabin crew.  She hadn’t eaten anything since the bagel she had before she left for the office.  She could hear Korra in her head saying that she shouldn’t skip meals.  Asami smiled to herself and began to read the in-flight magazine.  She blushed because it was the newest edition of “Life in RC” and she was on the cover.  The story was about the new 3D printing machines that Future Industries had designed for home use.  Asami continued to peruse the magazine until the aircraft's captain came on the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Harbour City.  We are encountering some turbulent weather so it might get a bit bumpy.  We should be on the ground and at the terminal in a little under thirty minutes.”

Asami put the magazine back into its proper place and tightened her seatbelt.  Although the landing was a little choppy, she was relieved and grabbed her carry-on luggage from the overhead bin.  After thanking the crew, she stepped out of the aircraft and headed directly to the car rental place.  Asami knew that winters in the Southern Water Tribe could be wicked so a top-of-the-line Satomobile vehicle with all the bells and whistles was what she had booked.  As she got to the counter, the attendant was smiling.  He began, “Hi, I’m Kasen.  Are you here to pick up a vehicle?”

“Nice to meet you Kasen and yes, I’m here to pick up the SUV I booked.”

“Name?”

“Asami Sato.  I booked a new Scorpion XL this morning online.”

“Yes, ma’am.  I see the reservation right here.  I’m glad you picked this vehicle because the weather yesterday was pretty horrendous.  There were whiteout conditions in the town; subsequently, the roads were impassable.  With this machine, you will have no problems on the roads today.  May I please see your driver’s licence and credit card.”

Asami handed over what was asked for and was relieved that she wasn’t recognized this far south.  Once the transaction was complete, she walked out the front of the terminal and strode over to her ride.  She was very thankful for the heated seats and heated steering wheel.

As she drove through Harbour City along the waterfront she was amazed by the large chunks of ice washing up on the beach.  I guess it really was one helluva storm.

The trip to the Chief’s palace took about forty minutes and when she arrived, she was met at the door by the security staff.  Asami was escorted to the front door of the Chief’s living area.  She knocked.

She heard “Coming” from behind the door.  It was Korra’s voice.  Asami’s pulse began to race as she waited.  She was almost frantic.  The door was flung open and there stood the Avatar in all her glory.  Korra’s brow furrowed for a second and then a 1000-watt smile burst from her lips.

“Asami!!  What are you doing here?  I mean I love that you’re here but why.”

Asami’s voice came out as a squeak.  She pleaded, “I needed to see you.  I needed to hug you.  I needed to kiss you.”  The CEO’s eyes filled with tears. 

Korra lifted her hand and wiped the droplets away from her wife’s cheek.  Asami leaned in, embraced Korra and kissed her fiercely.  The relief she felt was almost overwhelming.  The couple's weeklong vacation brought them both the comfort and support they each needed.

[mysteroads]

Chapter 8: Interlude With All Might

Summary: Izuku and All Might have a serious talk about the past and the future, and later we check in on Shigaraki and Aizawa.

Excerpt:

Toshinori opened his mouth, either to laugh at Hōō’s desire to spell bad words, or to express his concern that Shigaraki was teaching his four year-old daughter how to analyze quirks, but a sudden cloud crossed over Izuku’s freckled face. “What is it?” he asked instead. “Something wrong with the children?”

“No no! They’re fine. Loved to pieces, like I said,” Izuku quickly assured him. “I was just… Something happened in heroics today, and it’s been making me think about some things. Things I’ve already been thinking about, especially after taking to Mr. Aizawa and Shigaraki.”

Hiding his wince, Toshinori prompted, “What happened?” 

Staring at his hands, Izuku told him what had happened in the gym, how what had started as a fun diversion had turned into a hard lesson. 

“I couldn't see Toga's face, and Shigaraki was hiding whatever he felt, but I could see Dabi's. His eyes… His eyes looked like my eyes.” He swallowed, rubbing at his eyes as if to wipe something away. “Back when Kacchan first started bullying me, I'd stare at myself in the mirror and wonder what I'd done wrong, what part of me was so horrible that I deserved getting beat up by my best friend.”

“Young Midoriya…” Toshinori wished he were a more eloquent speaker. He could do off the cuff speeches about hope and goodness, give a villain a dressing down, or reassure a frightened civilian with ease, but he had no idea what to say right now. He tried anyway, “I’m glad that you and Bakugo are trying to make up your differences and get along now, but I just want to say again that you didn’t deserve to be treated so badly. By him, by me, or by anyone else.”

Izuku gave him a smile. “Thank you, All Might. It’s good to hear that sometimes.” His smile faded again. “Hanging out with the League, I’ve gotten hints about their pasts. I know they all have bad stories. Even Hawks, I’m guessing, since he’s the one who blew the whistle on the HSPC, and he came to UA so badly hurt. But this was the first time they’ve said anything concrete, and it was horrible.” His eyes filled with tears, but didn’t overflow just yet. “And they were scared of us, All Might! When they remembered we were listening, remembered where they were, they got scared! Dabi and Toga and Shigaraki, three of the most dangerous people I’ve ever met, got scared! I think… I think they thought we’d be mad, or hate them, or throw them back onto the street or in prison, because of what they told us by accident. I don’t agree with killing, I don’t like it, but if I was in that situation, all alone being threatened by a predator or an abuser— All Might I would’ve fought back, and I might’ve killed that person too!”

At this, Toshinori got up and sat down next to Izuku, pulling him into a tight hug. Izuku clung to him. “It’s a hard thing,” he whispered. “A hard situation. I pray that you never find yourself having to face that choice, but if you do, you have the right to protect yourself, Izuku.”

Sniffling, Izuku nodded, and hugged Toshinori a little tighter for a moment, before letting go. He scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, then accepted the napkin Toshinori offered him to blow his nose. “It’s just, I know that bad things like that are going to happen no matter what. It’s part of the human condition. Miss Midnight ended class early and talked to us about what Dabi said. She said that it’s one of the hardest parts of being a hero, knowing that there’s always going to be someone you can’t save, knowing that there are people suffering somewhere in the dark and you can’t do anything about it.” Izuku looked up into Toshinori’s eyes, and his whole chest hurt at the sorrow he saw there. “Was she right?”

[drhu0806]

6 – “I can’t wait for you.”

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 (fanfiction) Characters: Tav/custom player character Rating: G Warnings: none

The sky is choked with grey, bloated clouds, completely obscuring the sun to the point that one might assume it was nighttime on the surface below. The winds howl and buffet about, haphazard piles of debris left behind in the wake of the storm, while flashes of white light streak across the expanse above, followed by the deafening clatter of thunder. Up along the slope of a tall hill, a group climbs its way toward the top. The hikers’ pace is slow as they struggle against the crashing waves of wind and rain that push them back.

One figure among the bunch marches up with more ferocity than the rest; she gradually overtakes the others, her face set in dogged determination as she refuses to keel to the turbulent air around her.

As the top of the hill comes within reach, her pace quickens and she grows more excited. Turning around, she yells out over the roaring storm, “Come on, let’s get a move on, or else we’ll miss the best part!”

Someone calls back, “Kainé! Slow down! We need to be careful!”

A bolt of lightning arcs across the clouds, lighting up the sky in brilliant white. Kainé whips her head back around to the top of the hill as her hungry eyes scan the skyline.

“I can’t wait for you! I’m going!”

She rushes off, the protests of her companions washed away by the cacophony of rolling thunder and howling gales. As the slope shallows, her pace quickens, and she’s almost tripping over herself as she crests the peak. Lightning continues to fly; most remain as quick flashes among the clouds, but standing so high atop the hill, Kainé can see dazzling lances of electricity fall from the heavens to strike the ground below. Even as the storm rages around her, as the trees creak and rustle and bend, she takes a deep breath. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she feels so alive. Her skin crackles, her hair whips wildly around her face as she finds that feeling she’s always chased after.

Enraptured in the presence of the tempest, she doesn’t notice the slight change in the air. The voices of her companions from below are lost to the winds, and Kainé opens her eyes to behold the sights below her once more.

There’s another bright flash, but this time she doesn’t see it.

Heat like she’s never felt before, voltaic, numbing heat rips through her as if the gods themselves drove a titanic lancet through her brain to split her in two. It’s pain and no pain all at once, a moment that seems to stretch on forever as it feels like everything explodes; her body seizes, and something within her head bursts. But Kainé doesn’t feel anything beyond the first second; something vital within her stops, and everything goes black.

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

“And that’s how I figured out what my bloodline was,” Kainé finishes. “Well, sort of. We narrowed it down at least.”

The camp’s reaction is a comical mix ranging from horror to nonplussed nods. Wyll lets out a low whistle, while Gale in particular looks the most scandalized.

“You know when we first met, I didn’t take you as a thrill seeker,” he says. “Although considering you’re here with us in this moment, obviously you came out of that intact.”

“Well, apparently my heart had stopped for a good few minutes, and I was comatose for about a day after and then bedridden for at least a week, so I really learned my lesson then,” she laughs. “Still can’t hear very well out of one ear and I still get a little tingly, but I lived! I lived, and I will probably never do that again, aside from what a mage might shoot at me.”

Wyll looks up. “Probably?”

“Well it’s said that volcanic activity produces great conditions for lightning storms, so if we ever run into something like that—”

Gale holds out a hand, looking rather ill. “Please don’t jinx it.”

[trippingontheescalator]

The Prettiest Way to Die

Perhaps he never noticed because he had long associated the disease with florid Victorian authors and their pale, beautiful heroines coughing delicately into their lace kerchiefs.

He didn't cough up blood, and he was certainly no more pale and beautiful than he was before, he lacked that delicate, Victorian attitude that faced death bravely but for a tremulous lip. He kicked a kaiju intestine back onto Newton's side of the lab. His leg buckled as pain shot through him – up his leg, through his hip, and into his spine – stealing the air right out of his lungs, the rant he was building up fizzling out until it was only a half-bitten whimper.

Tuberculosis continues to persist into the modern era. Over one million people die from it each year. Although pulmonary tuberculosis is the most common form of the disease, the bacteria that causes the disease can affect other parts of the body, including the bones and spine.

*****

Oh, hey, look at me finally watching an 11-year-old movie. I don't know if there is a canonical explanation for Hermann's use of a cane, I only just watched this movie last night, but this was an idea I had for it. Burn Gorman has the face of a sickly Victorian artist.

*****

Hermann swayed and rolled, and it was a little like being on a boat in choppy waters. He kept his eyes closed, he pictured the boat, he dipped his hand in the cool water, felt the waves lapping at his fingertips– the groaning started up again, those poor bastards that had fallen and were now carpeting the floor, the friends and neighbors and families standing on top of them, helpless to pull them back up. He couldn't move; they were tightly packed in, pressed shoulder to hip. A little girl was standing on top of his feet, her head tilted up so that she could take in mouthfuls of stale, dusty air.

They could hear the rhythmic thuds of the kaiju walking above them. With each step it took, the earth shuddered, the lights flickered, dust rained down on top of him. At least the screaming had stopped, the voices long grown hoarse. Where were the Wei Tang Brothers? Why hadn't they arrived yet?

There came a new sound, just as earth-shattering as before, but even through the layers of concrete he could hear the grind of metal-on-metal and the angry shrieks of the kaiju above. Crimson Typhoon had finally arrived.

When they finally exited the shelter, twelve corpses had been left behind– suffocated or trampled. Hermann thought of numbers and weather forecasts; if he could just predict– he grabbed the hand of a man in Hawaiian-print shirt, let him help pull him up out of the dirty, airless hole in the ground. If he could perfect his model– bad days and good days, when best to seek shelter, when to stay in the Shatterdome, when it is safe to venture into the city. Kaiju activity at 75% chance. Please remain underground until conditions improve.

*****

Newt wasn't worried. Hermann was not the sort to just die; the thought of walking into their laboratory every day and not seeing Hermann's scowling face was incomprehensible. He'd probably scold the kaiju right back into the Breach. Pentecost should just give the man a megaphone. The war would be won in a week.

Newt didn't run to medical when he heard Hermann had made it back to the Shatterdome; he walked, like a normal person who had completely normal feelings for his… rival? Colleague? Man with whom he waged war with every time they got a shipment of supplies. Dude was possessive over his chalk.

Speaking of chalk, Hermann looked like he was covered in it when Newt finally spotted him. He looked like a ghost, caked in dust and debris, but no worse for wear as he was poked and prodded by the doctors.

Newt whistled as he stopped in front of the cot Hermann was sitting on. “I hope that's not asbestos.”

Hermann's voice was hoarse and whispery as he started to chew Newt out, “If you're quite done with–” was as far as he got before breaking into a coughing fit.

Newt helpfully smacked him on the back as Hermann leaned over to cough, sending a shower of white dust to fall on the tiled floor. The glare Hermann shot him could skin a cat.

*****

Hermann doesn't notice the symptoms. Perhaps because he never took much care of himself to begin with; hunched over a desk, teetering on a ladder as he wrote equation after equation, the mere fact he wasn't a twenty-something college student anymore, all contributed to back problems.

Or perhaps he never noticed because he had long associated the disease with florid Victorian authors and their pale, beautiful heroines coughing delicately into their lace kerchiefs. The women declared, they never saw death so lovely before: and she looked as if in an easy slumber, the colour having not quite left her cheeks and lips.

He didn't cough up blood, and he was certainly no more pale and beautiful than he was before, he certainly lacked that delicate, Victorian attitude that faced death bravely but for a tremulous lip. He kicked a kaiju intestine back onto Newton's side of the lab. His leg buckled as pain shot through him – up his leg, through his hip, and into his spine – stealing the air right out of his lungs, the rant he was building up fizzling out until it was only a half-bitten whimper.

He had enough heating pads covering his mattress that it probably constituted a fire hazard. The pain grew worse and worse until it was almost a constant. You're getting old, he thought as he limped into the laboratory, ignoring Newton's little comments, “Need me to get you a walker, grandpa?” “Eat something, will you? You can’t live off math alone.” “Don’t slouch, you’ll get a hunchback.” – an old wives’ tale, and Newton knew that.

And the worst one of all, “Maybe you should go to medical.”

He wasn't concerned, not until he woke up one morning and discovered he had lost all feeling in his legs. Unable to move from the waist down, he had fallen onto the floor. He wouldn't be able to reach the door handle from his position and so he had crawled as best he could to bang on the wall that separated his quarters from Newton's.

Medical ran a battery of tests. There was a slew of data: abscesses in his femur and hip, swollen joints, kyphosis, the destruction of the L1-L2 disc, and anorexia. Hermann hotly debated that last one. He was starving himself, that was ridiculous. He just wasn’t hungry. His appetite had evaporated and he had been so consumed with work, with the end of the world, that he hadn’t even noticed.

“The skin test came back positive,” the doctor said. “We’re looking at extrapulmonary tuberculosis of the spine. Pott’s Disease, to be specific.”

“Tuberculosis is a lung disease.” He remembered that much from La Bohème at any rate. “I haven’t had so much as a cold.”

“No, you wouldn’t. There are no symptoms during the latent period. By the time it reached the active stage, yours had already moved out of the lungs and into the spine. Don’t worry,” the doctor said, with a smile. “This isn’t the 1800s. There are treatments. We’ll need to schedule you for surgery and get you started on antibiotics.”

*****

Hermann is stubborn. He was supposed to be resting. Instead, he had wheeled himself into the lab and was glaring up at his chalkboard as if it had pissed in his cereal. Newt couldn’t see it underneath the trousers he had somehow managed to wrestle on, he knew there were long scars running up his thigh and hip where they had cut away the abscesses. He had another upcoming surgery scheduled for his spine.

“You know, you’ve a good prognosis,” Newt casually stated, not looking at Hermann directly but instead continuing his examination of the kaiju skin parasite. “Paraplegia from tuberculosis can usually be reversed with treatment.”

“And you know so much about the subject,” Hermann turned his nose up at him.

“Biologist, dude.”

“Soft science,” Hermann insisted.

“Excuse me? Biology is not a soft science!”

He wheeled over to Newt, picked up a pencil, and poked at a kaiju eyeball left on a dissecting tray. It rippled. “Soft,” he insisted. “And gooey.” This was said with an exaggerated shiver.

“Hey, hey! Get back on your side! No crossing the line!”

They lapsed into the silence. It lasted for nearly thirty minutes when both their phones went off, nearly at the same time. A reminder to take their medicine. Hermann was taking Rifampicin, Isoniazid, Ethambutol and Pyrazinamide– he would be on them for at least six months, if not a year or more. Newt’s particular flavour of drug cocktail at the moment was Lamictal, Seroquel, Lithium, and Cymbalta. He wasn’t sure if he liked this combination or not. He might have to talk to his doctor again.

*****

Hermann had to admit it to himself: this was as good as it was going to get.

He can walk, at least, though he needed a cane. He hid the unnatural curve of his spine underneath baggy sweaters and jackets. He took ibuprofen to cope with the pain, until he developed a stomach ulcer. Then his doctor told him to stop. No matter. He would make do. There were no other options.

He bickered ferociously with Newton as they made their way to their laboratory. Newton kept pace with him. Arguing wouldn’t be as much fun if he had to yell at the back of Newton’s head. When they reached their shared space, Newton yanked the door open and gestured angrily to get inside. Hermann took his sweet time doing so, his cane clicking against the floor with a deliberate slowness.

[despairots]

Alright,

1.(platonic)what if the reader returned to the ashes and found all of their family still alive they dont look amazing but they are alive and well, and the reader manages to get them to the college and introduces them to everyone.

2.(romantic) the reader ends up falling in love with luminos (I can't spell his name right) and gets dragon-naped and luminos manages to save them

3. (romantic)Or reader saving No-No from a dragon but this time it's not a drill from the principal

4. (Romantic) The reader having a half form of a dragon like horns and wings, and (character, I can't choose who I like them all) gets them to come out of their shell and show the others of the college

(these are just a few I don't want to bore you, if you don't like them I can send you different ones!)

#   ⌒ ALIVE AND WELL

𖥦 ˖⁩ ࣪ ִֶָ going back to the past isn’t the choice but maybe it was this time.

★ ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ) › dragon raja x gn!reader && luminous x gn!reader — platonic, fluff, dragon raja.

reader is anything of your choice like weapon type!

i’m sorry if you wanted me to do something different then the first :( also thank you for requesting! <3 i’m sorry for coming to this request so late, i had a few things to finish! i wanted to kinda combine the 2 and 1 one but only with the luminous x reader.

warnings: small spoilers for dragon raja!

going back to the past wasn’t the best option you made, caesar told you he could tag along but you declined… you wanted to scavenge the place, maybe could find if they were alive and well.

“caesar! i’m heading off!” i half-assed waved at him before hopping onto the helicopter.

“i can come with you!” he yelled through the loud choppers, “nah! i think i’m good!” i yelled back, closing the doors shut. i furrowed my eyebrows, looking through the window, ‘just to find things… just to find things.’ i thought.

maybe they were alive, i shook the thought away, i saw them die… they couldn’t possible be alive, they’re dead, renata wasn’t and apparently z wasn’t dead too.

dead… i always said they were but never checked up on proof, yeah, i saw them die in front of me but that doesn’t mean they’re dead.

here we are, i whistled getting off the helicopter, the choppers whirring down.

childhood memories, i smiled at the thought, walking through the gates, the place was technically ashes by now and it wasn’t in the best condition.

i winched at the sight, i head to my room, slightly opening the door and hearing the familiar squeaky sound you would hear when you open a rusted gate. my eyes widened seeing a familiar little girl.

“vera?” she looked older, a lot more mature and a little bit taller but she still had to voice, “y/n…” she didn’t look in the best condition either, she ran up to and grabbed my hand.

“we’re so happy that you’re alive!” i furrowed my eyebrows, we? who’s we? “uh, vera… who’s we?” she grinned before dragging me to the big, ruined christmas tree.

there we sherman, khorkina, anton and ivan, they weren’t in good shape either like vera.

i felt small tears prick my eyes, they were alive… vera had a tiny smile, “i thought you guys died, i-i saw you guys die.” i whimpered as ivan came up to me, my family was alive… “we don’t know what happened but we’re alive.” i smiled at him before pulling him into a hug.

“you’re such a crybaby.” khorkina scoffed but she tried to hide the tempting smile, i smirked at her before looking at sherman and anton, “uh- sorry for like accidentally killing you, ehehe.” i nervously chuckled.

he waved it off, “all good.” he calmly smiled as sherman excitingly waved at me, “how… how long were you guys stranded here?” i questioned with a concerned look.

they shrugged, i sighed before pinching my nose, i guess i could take them back to the collage and introduce them.

“um, do you guys wanna come with me? i-i mean i brought a helicopter.” i awkwardly ask, khorkina looked shocked, “really?!” she exclaimed, excitement lingering in her tone.

i nodded with a smile before guiding them to the helicopter as we chatted, “hey, y/n?” i hummed, again, looking through the window, “do you have significant other?” i tensed up at that.

“where-where did you get that from!?” i yelled at ivan who held a teasingly grin, “i don’t know, but it’s been so long i thought you would’ve already have one.” i deadpanned at him.

“really?” this dude, weird noises came out of my mouth before i started to laugh.

it’s nice being reunited with my family.

“i thought you were just getting some things not some people.” caesar tapped his shoe against the marbled floor, “well, you see-“ i rubbed my nape.

“you don’t always have to care, y’know.” johann defended making him and caesar get into another fight. “you two are literally children.” luminous commented entering the room, “remember, i’m marrying one of them.” NoNo said making caesar’s mouth drop.

“my heart.” caesar dramatically gasped, i rolled my eyes, “well, i want to introduce my family.” i gestured to the 5 people behind me, “they’re names are anton, khorkina, vera, ivan and sherman.” they all awkwardly waved.

the 4 people waved at them, “that’s caesar, johann chu, luminous and NoNo.” i introduced the other 4 people to my family, “nice meeting y/n’s family!” luminous broke the awkward silence with a tiny smile, “come! we’ll take you guys on a tour.” NoNo spoke before luminous barged in.

“um, i need to take to y/n real quick if you’re okay.” i nodded at him before he guided my outside with a flustered look, “u-uh, look, we’ve known each other for quite a long time.” i playfully rolled my eyes.

“if you’re trying to say you like me, i don’t mind.” i smirked at his flustered look, “i like you too, don’t worry.” i grabbed his collar before bringing him into a sweet kiss. he made a weird squeak before responding to the kiss by placing his hands onto the back of my neck and onto my waist.

“hey lovebirds! let’s go, we’re waiting!” caesar poke his head out of the door before pulling his head back, i grinned at luminous before dragging him out of the collage with the rest of my family.

maybe going back wasn’t that bad…

[babybluebex]

retribution pt.1 [charles blackwood smut]

➽ pairing: dark!stepfather!charles blackwood x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.9k ➽ summary: after charles marries your mother to gain a massive fortune, he realizes that he married the wrong woman, and he sets his sights on the real heiress: you.  ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. explicit language, smut, thigh-riding, oral (f!receiving), power dynamics, step!cest, masturbation, yandere/obession (i think??), daddy kink, breeding kink, slapping, mentions of murder/suicide ➽ a/n: i know that is different than what i usually post, but charles blackwood just... hmmm he grinds my gears in the best way. so, enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio (and the sequel will be soon!)

From the very moment you laid eyes on Charles Blackwood, you loathed him. There was something about him physically that turned you off of him. Maybe it was the way his hair was just too perfectly done, the caramel highlights too pretty to be natural. Maybe it was the way his cologne filled your head, dark and lovely, but too masculine, like he was making up for something. Or maybe it was the smile that graced his pink and pouty lips when your mother introduced him to you as her husband. 

It had hardly been a year since your father had passed, and you had no idea just how your mother could move on as quickly as she did. It had torn you up in a way that nothing else quite had. You had always been closer to your father than your mother and, when he got sick, you were left to bear the weight of what was happening. You went to visit him at the hospital alone and sat with him and read to him, and you held his hand as the nurses carefully turned off his machines. You guess that it was worth it, though; you found out that your father had altered his will and now, instead of his money being left to your mother, it was left to you. The only condition was that you had to get married to receive the money, going back to a conversation many years ago where your father tried to convince you not to go to university, telling you that the life of a wife and a mother would suit you better. You said that you would think about it. 

“You’re not my dad,” you told Charles Blackwood. You expected him to be cross or maybe even hurt by your insistence upon that, but he smirked, as if he had expected that sort of answer. “I’m not gonna call you that.” 

“Aw, that’s alright, honey,” Charles said, and he pressed his hand to your mother’s shoulder to stop her from scolding you. “I didn’t think you would. That’s awful, what happened to him. I’m really sorry about that.” 

So casual, the way he talked about your father’s death. As if it was nothing more to you than a bad exam grade. You cried that night, locked up in your room, wanting Charles gone already. He was in the kitchen when you went in in the morning, sitting at the table, reading the newspaper, and whistling. He had the glow of a recently-spent man about him, and you internally sneered at the thought of him fucking your mother. “Hey, you,” he said, putting the paper down. “Let’s have a talk, huh?” 

You glared at him, but sat down at the table all the same. You dug your thumbs into your orange and raised your eyebrows expectantly at him, and Charles pursed his lips. “I want you to know something,” he said. “I love your mom, right? And I have no interest in being your new dad or whatever. But I expect you to treat me with a little bit of respect, not any of… This.” He waved his finger at you, obviously talking about your current abhorrent pose. “I may not be your dad, but I’m still paying the bills and paying for you to go to university. So you’re gonna treat me like you fucking worship the ground I walk on. Got it, honey?” 

“And what do I get outta this?” you grumbled. 

“You get to keep living here,” Charles said. “You still get all that money that your father left your mother when he died. I don’t see what else you need.” 

You scoffed. “Right,” you whispered. “‘Cause you only care about money. Well, Chuck, that’s fucking hysterical, that you think I’m even remotely like you. I can see past dollar signs and see what people are actually about. Anyway, I could care less about your money. I’ve got my own.” 

“Doing what?” Charles asked with a dismissive laugh. “Waitressing?” 

“You wish,” you sneered. “Mother didn’t get any money from Father.”

“All that money?” Charles asked slowly. “Where the hell did it go?” 

“Into my trust fund,” you said highly, and you watched Charles’s blue eyes widen. “I have every cent of my father’s. All I have to do is get married, and me and my husband can fuck off, away from you.” 

Charles stuttered for a moment, then said, “Let me get this straight. Your father left every red dime to his kid and not his wife? And you can only access it if you get married?”

“I told him that I wasn’t getting married,” you explained. “This is his twisted way of guaranteeing that I tie the knot at some point; soon, I guess. But congratulations, Chuck. Welcome to the family.” 

As you stood up from your place, Charles’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, and you yelped. His grip was strong, veins in his hand exposing themselves, and his jaw was set with a rising anger. You could see the red flush in his chest and neck, and, as pleased as you wished you were, you were frightened by him. Your father had never grabbed you like that before. Nobody had. “What did I say about a little goddamn respect?” Charles asked through gnashed teeth, and he twisted his hand, pulling your skin and making you cry out in pain. “You don’t call me Chuck. You call me Charles, or Father, or fucking nothing.” 

“Let go of me, you fucking bastard,” you hissed. 

Charles’s face was red now, and he lashed out and struck you across the cheek. Before you even had time to cry out, he had you by the chin, forcing you to look at him. “Go to your room,” he told you. “Next time I see you, if this fucking attitude isn’t fixed, you’re gonna be really sorry. You hearing me, honey?” 

You nodded, using every ounce of your self control to not burst into tears on the spot. You cursed him in your head, wishing for him to leave you and your mother alone. You wanted him gone, maybe even dead. Certainly nowhere near you or your mother anymore. Charles stared at you, watching you, making sure of your compliance, then he let go of your face and tugged you close to his body by your wrist. Confusion overtook you as he hugged you, but then it made sense when you heard the floorboard in the hallway creak. “I know you miss him,” Charles said, quiet but certainly loud enough for your mother to hear from the hallway. “And I can’t be him, but I’ll try my best. Alright, honey?” 

He sent a quick pinch to your tender wrist, and you finally let out your caged sobs. “Hey, hey,” Charles said, shushing you in what could be mistaken for comfort. “No need for crying, little one. I’m here for you.” 

When you finally tore yourself from Charles, he looked happy. The anger was gone from his face, and he smiled at you. “‘Morning, lovely,” he said to your mother, and he stepped around you to embrace your mother and kiss her cheek. 

“What’s going on?” your mother asked, looking at you worriedly. 

“Having a little heart-to-heart,” Charles said softly. “Said she missed her father, and I told her that I’ll try my hardest to be there for her.” 

“Aw,” your mother cooed and placed a kiss on Charles’s lying lips. “You’re too good to us.”

That conversation seemed to change something between you and Charles. He was still an asshole when your mother wasn’t looking, but you knew not to tell her. She wouldn’t believe it, and it would inevitably just mean more trouble for you. However, there was suddenly something more with Charles. He seemed charming, as always, but you sensed something sinister underneath it. You knew that he was only after your father’s money, and he was now stuck with your mother when it was you who had all the money. You knew that he was mad at marrying the wrong woman, but he couldn’t do anything about it now, and the thought that your presence vexed him as much as he did you pleased you. 

Except, as you found out one night, Charles still could do something. 

It was still dark outside your window when you heard your bedroom door creak open. You liked to sleep with it closed, and you brushed it off as the house shifting as it settled. Your clock said that it was five in the morning, and you nearly got up to close your door back, but you smelled him first. Fresh from his morning shower, cologne still potent, Charles lingered in the doorway to your room before stepping in. You squinted your eyes to try to see what Charles was doing, but still trying to act asleep, and you watched him cross to your dresser, across from your bed. He carefully opened drawer after drawer, obviously hunting for something specific, and your heart dropped when he crouched to the bottom drawer and his hands came up to brush back his hair. 

Your heart burned with hate and disgust as you watched your mother’s husband, your stepfather, pull out a pair of your panties. You had done laundry just two days earlier and hadn’t worn them yet, and you watched as Charles pressed the bundle of cotton to his face. After a moment, he stood up, your panties in his fist, and you quickly closed your eyes to feign sleep as Charles approached the bed. You felt his presence right by your face, felt his eyes watching you as you slept, and he whispered, “Fuck, little one...”. Then, you heard the zipper on his pants. Through your eyelashes, you watched Charles press his half-hard cock into his fist and begin to stroke himself, rubbing himself with your panties. He slotted his bottom lip between his teeth as he masturbated, watching you as you “slept”. “So fuckin’ pretty… Gonna be mine.” 

You tasted acidic hate in your mouth, but you couldn’t make yourself confront him. To your knowledge, nobody had ever masturbated to the thought of you before. There was a tiny part of you that liked that Charles was so hung up on you, even if the dominating part of your brain told you how sick it was. Anyway, you hardly wanted to interrupt him and stop an orgasm and give him yet another reason to hate you. 

Charles’s cheeks went red in the dim light of the room as his fist moved faster. Your panties were bunched around his cock, flushed and nestled there like it belonged, and you closed your eyes fully. You didn’t want to see him come. You didn’t want to know what he looked like. You moved slightly, adjusting your legs under the blankets, and Charles let out a quiet little grunt. “One day…” he mumbled to himself. “Gonna be mine… All that’s gonna be mine.” 

His breath caught in his throat, and you heard the wet squelch as his cum coated your panties. Charles stood for a moment, watching you, feeling his cock soften in his hand, and he finally sniffed and stuffed the used panties into his pocket. He tilted his head as he continued to examine you and the way you gave little noises as you slept, and he smiled. Oh yes, he thought as he brushed a bit of hair from your cheek. You would make a good wife. 

Later that day, you were absently wandering around the house. It was too hot to do anything outside comfortably, but you definitely didn’t want to be around Charles or your mother for the moment. Even though you hadn’t seen anything that Charles had done, his grunts and hisses were enough for you to know that he enjoyed his time in your room that morning. You had yet to find your panties, and your stomach roiled when you wondered if he still had them in his pocket. 

Your stepfather called your name from across the house, and your heart dropped. As you made your way to his office, you decided to play with him in the worst way possible. If he was going to haunt you and make you miserable, you were going to do just the same. Charles was leaned back in his desk chair when you got there, smoking from his pipe. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his gelled hair coming a bit undone. He looked stressed, and perhaps a little anxious. “Yes?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. 

“What are you doing tonight?” Charles asked, blowing out a mouthful of thick smoke. 

You shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose,” you said. “Why?” 

“I wanted to take you to dinner,” Charles said. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I would like to make it up to you, if I can. I… I truly apologize for hitting you. I have a short temper, see, and I’m trying to be better about it.” His lips were pursed, his eyes trained on you. 

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that his apology was genuine. But he needed you on his good side in order to get your fortune. He was buttering you up. You sighed. “That’s alright,” you said. “Umm… I’d like that, I think. Would Mother be coming as well?” 

“No, little one,” Charles said, and you remembered how he had called you that as he pleasured himself into your panties. “Just us. A father-daughter dinner.” 

“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Would you be angry if I called you Father? I just think…” You trailed off and pretended to be ashamed as you played with the sleeve of your dress. “Maybe it would help me adjust.” 

“Not at all, honey,” Charles replied. “Anything to make you comfortable.” 

You gave him the smallest smile, and you approached his seat. “I should have greeted you with a bit more open-mindedness,” you mused. “I was being childish. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, because I… I just want you to like me, Father.”

“Aw, honey, I do like you,” Charles said, tilting his head. “You’re already forgiven.”

Your smile grew, and you leaned over to give Charles a tight hug. You could smell his strong cologne as you embraced him, and you made sure to give a soft little moan in his ear. “Oh, Father!” you started. “I can’t seem to find some of my clothes. Would you happen to know where they might have gone? Mother’s always on about donating unused things.” 

“I have no idea, little one,” Charles said, and you straightened up. “What exactly are you missing?” 

“Just a few sweaters,” you said, tracing the etching on the desk. “A skirt or two… A pair of panties with daises on them.” You gave a little laugh, and added, “They were my lucky pair and I just… Never mind, that’s embarrassing.” 

“No, I mean,” Charles began, and he shifted in his chair. Your words had done exactly what you had hoped; he was suspicious and uncomfortable. “If it means a lot to you. How exactly are they lucky, might I ask?” 

You laughed quietly. “Oh, Father, I couldn’t possibly tell you,” you giggled. “It’s not the sort of things girls talk about with their parents.” 

“C’mon,” Charles smiled, reaching forward and playfully tickling your side. “If you don’t tell me, then I’ll assume the worst.” 

In truth, the panties meant nothing to you. You couldn’t even remember when or where you had gotten them. But if it made Charles uncomfortable, then you would stretch the truth however far you needed to. You bit your bottom lip and giggled, and you said, “Fine, fine. I wore them the night I almost lost my virginity, and I… I just feel good wearing them.” 

Charles straightened in his chair, setting his pipe aside. “You’re not a virgin?” he asked. 

“I said ‘almost’, Father,” you whispered. “I still am.” 

“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” Charles told you. His hands went to your waist and tugged you closer to him, and he carefully parted your legs with his knee. “Are you waiting for marriage?”

You shrugged. “Or whatever,” you said. “I wanted to do it, but I just… He wasn’t my type.” 

“And what is your type, honey?” Charles asked. 

Your stomach was curling with disgust, but you kept up the ruse. “I don’t know,” you whispered. With a sigh, you settled yourself on Charles’s thigh, playing with the collar of his shirt. “Just, someone who knows what they’re doing, I guess. Who can make me feel good without making mistakes. Older, I suppose.”

“What else?” Charles asked. His thumb brushed against your hip bone, and you shivered when you felt your walls flutter. You couldn’t possibly be turned on by playing this sick game with your stepfather, could you?

“I like dark hair,” you said softly. “Tall. Nice eyes.”

“So…” Charles began and gave you a satisfied grin, one like a wolf who had cornered his prey. “Me.” 

“Oh, God,” you whispered. “I-I guess, when you put it that way--” 

“It’s alright, little one,” Charles said softly, and he leaned forward and kissed each of your cheeks. “It’s alright if you’ve got a little crush on me. Tell me, honey: have you ever been touched before?” 

“Yes,” you replied with a fake meekness. He seemed to like the more innocent side of you. 

“Yes…?” 

You swallowed down disgust, disguising it as nerves. “Yes, Father.” 

“Good girl,” Charles whispered. “How have you been touched?” 

“A boy put his fingers in me,” you told Charles, avoiding his eyes. “And his mouth on me.” 

“Where on you?” Charles pressed on. His hand slipped down to your bare legs and let his fingers linger on the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

“Father,” you mumbled. “I can’t say it.”

“Show me,” Charles demanded, his face suddenly stony. “Put your hand where that kid had his fucking mouth.” 

You let your hand rest on top of Charles’s, and you lifted it to your breast first. “Here--” 

“Over your dress?” Charles laughed. 

“N-No,” you laughed softly. You bit your lip as you guided his hand down the neck of your dress, and you shuddered at his warm palm on your soft nipple. Your cunt fluttered again, and you fully blushed when you realized that Charles had certainly felt it against his tense thigh. “Here,” you whispered, and you found yourself letting out a quiet moan as Charles groped at your breast. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying this. No, this was supposed to be torture for him. 

“You like when I touch your tit like this, honey?” Charles asked, and you nodded quickly. “So good for your father, little one. Where else?” 

You took his wrist and pulled his hand up to your mouth, and you placed a gentle kiss to his fingertips. “He kissed me,” you said. 

“Did you like it?” Charles asked. He pressed his thumb to your bottom lip, and you took it into your mouth as Charles watched greedily. 

You shook your head, and Charles pulled his thumb from your mouth. “What did he do wrong?” he asked softly. 

“Nothing,” you whispered. “I just didn’t like him, I suppose.” 

“Do you usually fuck guys you don’t like?” Charles asked. 

“I didn’t fuck him, Father!” you said quickly. “I-I stopped it. Remember?” 

“Oh, right,” Charles said in a hushed tone. “Saving yourself for the right person, who just so happens to have every quality that I possess. Is that right?” 

“Father,” you groaned, leaning forward to press your forehead against his shoulder. For some reason, you didn’t entirely mind the smell of his cologne anymore. You didn’t mind his perfect hair. You didn’t even mind the wolfish smile that overtook his pink pout. 

“Where else was that boy’s mouth?” Charles whispered. “Did he put it anywhere else? Or just on your pretty little mouth and tit?” 

As you grabbed his hand, you realized that there was absolutely no going back. Your plan was set in motion and there was no way to stop it. You took a deep breath to prepare yourself, and you slowly took his hand down your body. You carefully lifted your dress and settled his hand over your cunt, and you shuddered at the warmth of his palm. His fingers were against your hole, the heel of his hand pressed to your clit, and you watched him lick his lips. “You naughty little thing,” Charles chuckled. “You let him put his mouth on your pussy?” 

“I didn’t like it,” you told him quickly. “I didn’t like him.” 

“Honey, I’m gonna ask you this once,” Charles whispered, pressing his hand fully against you. Even through the thin layer of your panties, you could feel every inch of his hand, and you bit your lip and tried to control your hips from bucking into his palm. Amongst other things, you were sure that you would get in trouble for it. “Do you want me to fuck you? I can show you how good you’re supposed to feel, little one, you’ll love me for it.” 

You nodded quickly, but yelped when his free hand landed a smack on your ass. It truly hurt, and you whimpered when his hand stayed on your ass and squeezed. “Use your words, honey,” Charles said. “As much as I like the little dumb whore act, I wanna hear you beg for it.” 

“Yes,” you said quickly. “Yes, Charles, please. Please, Daddy, please fuck me.” 

“Ooh, Daddy,” Charles purred. “I like the sound of that, baby. Stand up and take off your panties, sweetheart.” 

You did as he told you, shivering when the cool air hit your wet cunt, and Charles tugged you back down onto his thick thigh. The roughness of his pants made you whimper louder, and he sent a slap to your cheek. It wasn’t hard and didn’t even hurt, but you gasped all the same. “Keep your fucking cock-hole shut,” Charles hissed. “You want your mother to hear you fucking yourself on my leg?” 

“N-No, Daddy,” you whined. 

“Good girl,” Charles whispered. “Show me how badly you want me.”

“Huh?” 

Charles took fistfuls of your dress and tugged it downwards, letting your tits escape. “I said, show me how badly you want me to fuck your little hole, babygirl,” he growled. “Fuck yourself on my thigh, and maybe, if you’re good for me, I’ll bend you over this desk right now and fuck you ‘til you can’t walk. You want that, baby? Want your daddy’s cock wrecking your pretty little pussy?” 

You rested your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, and you rocked your hips down onto his hard thigh. The material of his pants brushed your cunt and clit and made you bite back a whimper, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You hated the way that you were enjoying it. You hated him. Maybe you even hated yourself. But self-loathing could wait until you got off, because the pleasure of everything was too overpowering to focus on much else. 

Charles’s hands roamed your body, touching you everywhere that he could manage. He squeezed your tits and pinched your nipples, and bolts of pleasure rocked through your whole body. That, added with the feeling on your clit, was almost too much, and you whined out. “Daddy--!”

Suddenly, his hand was over your mouth, the other clamping down around your throat. “Shut up!” he huffed. His eyes were alert, locked on yours, and his face was red. Was he really angry? The thought that he was truly angry made your stomach flip, and not in a good way. “I told you to shut the fuck up, why can’t you listen?”

You pleaded with your eyes, asking him to forgive you. It was important for your plan that he didn’t have any ill will towards you. You needed him to want to marry you, and to actually do it. Then, you would get the money, and you could find a way to stage a suicide before the money was put into his bank account. Then, you would have your father’s money, and live with just yourself and the fortune he gave you. But, in order to do that, you had to do everything Charles Blackwood asked of you. You had to treat this horrible man like the sun shined out of his lying ass. You had to make him want to marry you. Which, at the current moment, didn’t seem like it would be too difficult. 

You mumbled behind his hand, trying to warn him that you were going to come, but he only hit you across the cheek again. “Not another sound, you fucking whore,” he said. “Fucking yourself on your father’s leg. So slutty. You gonna come? You wanna come on Daddy’s leg?” 

You nodded quickly, and you started your hips faster. Your legs were quivering and you could hardly hold yourself upright anymore, and Charles took note of the tears brimming at your eyelashes. “Is this the first orgasm you’ve ever had, honey?” he asked. He seemed softer suddenly, and his hand left your mouth; the other stayed secure around your throat, though. You nodded quickly, and he gave a little coo. “Aw, my poor baby. I guess I oughta take some pity on you, huh? You’ve been good to me after all… Take off your dress and sit on the desk.” 

Your dress hit the floor, and you settled yourself on the edge of Charles’s desk. It was a hefty thing made of mahogany, and you clenched your thighs together as Charles’s eyes raked over your entire body. “I know you’re not trying to be modest now,” he laughed. “Open your legs and show Daddy that pretty pussy.”

You bit your lip and did as he said, and you gasped when his eyes finally landed on your cunt. You were dripping wet, your slick glistening off your thighs, and Charles let one thick finger glide up your slit and collect your wetness on his fingertip. “Jesus Christ, baby,” he laughed. “You were really close, weren’t you? Let me guess, you want me to shove my cock in you, huh? Want me to fuckin’ split you in two and stuff you full of my cum? God, you would look so pretty, gettin’ all big with my baby.” He paused to suck your wetness off of his finger, and he gave a quiet little sigh. “Oh, God. Of course you taste good… So sweet, like sugar. It’s almost like you want me to eat you out, sugar.”

“Please,” you sniffled. You reached for him and pulled him in by his tie, and he slotted easily between your thighs. “Please, please, please, Daddy, want your mouth on my pussy, please, make me come, Daddy…” 

Charles placed a soft kiss on your forehead as a way to placate your begging, and he whispered, “You’re asking so nicely, sugar. How could I say no to your pretty little face?” 

You didn’t know what exactly to expect as Charles kneeled down in front of you, and you carefully pushed your fingers through his hair, through those perfect blond highlights. The moment his tongue touched your clit, though, you forgot entirely about how you were supposed to be hating him. You forgot practically everything that wasn’t Charles. He lapped up your wetness and placed a wet kiss to your lips, and your stomach clenched as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “Aw,” he whispered, his warm breath making your cunt flutter again. “You look so pretty, sugar, all fucked out like this. Can’t wait ‘til I can actually fuck you…” 

And, with that, he dived in. He was kissing, licking, and sucking your cunt like it was his only goal in life, your thighs in his bruising grip. You had the instinct to clamp your legs shut, and you nearly did, but Charles pulled his mouth away just enough so that his lips teasingly brushed your clit, and he whispered, “Now, that’s not what good girls do, is it?” 

“M’sorry, Daddy,” you whispered. “Just feels so good.”

“I know, sugar, I know,” Charles whispered. “You’re being so obedient for me, though. Do you think you deserve a reward?” 

“Yes,” you gasped. “Please, Daddy, I’ve been so good for you. Done what you’ve asked, please let me come.” 

Charles sighed, looking up at you once more. “I love listening to you beg,” he whispered. “But you’ve been doing good for me. Go ahead, sugar. Come on my face, baby.”

The way his lips shined with your cum nearly made you pass out. If it were anyone else, you would have adored the sight of it, but, since it was your awful fucking monster of a stepfather, you loathed it. Still, you pulled him close and kissed him all the same, cringing at the taste of yourself on his mouth. 

“What do we say?” Charles asked. His hands smoothed down your body, landing on your waist, and he tugged you flush against his body. 

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered. 

Charles smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary. “You’re welcome, sugar.” 

[tssidesfics]

Requests: Analogince where they’re human and also single dads? And they all meet because their kids fought and got called to the principals office

Virgil's POV

Upsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you got to raise a beautiful, special boy with a sharp mind. You got to teach him all the coping mechanisms you'd painstakingly learned over the years to cope with his condition and watch as he lit up over the things that brought him joy. You got to watch as he zipped from topic to topic, brighter than the sun, mind racing at a million miles an hour. You got to be the first person to hear about his beautifully creative ideas. You got to have a reason for living, all yours and wonderful, that you didn't have to share with anyone else.

Downsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you had no one else to pass the buck to when he got in trouble at school.

"It'll be fine," I chanted to myself for the billionth time as I turned off the ignition and unbuckled myself, gripping the steering wheel and forcing deep, measured breaths. "It'll be fine. He probably won't get expelled for this. This is his first fight and you don't even know why he got into a fight. You didn't raise a bully, so he was probably defending himself or another kid." Terror clasped me around the throat and squeezed. "But what if you did raise a bully and you didn't realize it, and now you've sentenced your son to a life of crime trying to make up for the hole in his heart where his father should have loved him oh God I broke my son!"

Immediately, my therapist's voice spoke up in my mind. You're catastrophizing again, he said in that obnoxiously aware, gentle way of his. Calm down. Take it one step at a time.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, focusing on the feeling of my stomach and then my chest expanding with air. I let it out through pursed lips, a quiet whistle in the exhale.

I'd played through scenarios like this a million times in my mind. The second Cassie told me, five months pregnant with tears streaming down her cheeks, that she didn't want the baby, I'd prepared myself for any possibility. I'd created contingency plans and contingency plans for my contingency plans, because I knew how much harsher the world would be on him. With a grandparent, his biological mother, and me all with ADHD, there hadn't been any doubt Drew would get it, too, and I'd prepared for that. I'd prepared for the possibility that poor grades and emotional dysregulation would put him on the back foot and even get him expelled. I'd taught him all the coping mechanisms I could. I'd tried to show him as much love and patience as I could muster, and I'd show him the same now. We'd get through this. We would make it through this.

I nodded, resolute, even as doubt and worry niggled at the back of my mind. I'd raised Drew alone, without any support from my parents or Cassie, working a call center job that barely paid enough to live off of. I'd demanded a child psychiatrist the second Drew started displaying symptoms and beat the system for the help he deserved. I'd beat the system for the help I deserved. I was a badass. I was a badass.

I got out of the car.

The two people at the front desk--a woman with strawberry blonde hair and a baby-faced guy--looked over, presumably torn from their conversation, when I walked through the door. The woman swiveled her chair to face me with a friendly smile. "Hello there," she said. "How may I help you?"

I forced myself to look her in the eyes and strained through a smile. If you act like a weirdo, it'll just make things worse for Drew. "Hey," I said. "I'm, uh...Drew Griffith's father. You called me and--"

"Oh!" She gestured to the side, at a door that read: PRINCIPAL MOROZOV. "He's in there."

I looked over and gulped, staring in fear at the door. "Say, uh..." I smiled at the woman as politely as I could. "You wouldn't happen to know the correct social etiquette for talking to the principal after your son gets into a fight at school, would you?"

She gave me a funny look. "Huh?"

"Never mind." I hung my head in defeat and commenced the walk of dread to the front door of the office. The wall facing me was all glass, which meant I could see inside. Two adults, one natural-haired in a polo shirt with his arm around one of the kids in the chair beside him and the other behind a desk, looking stern. I couldn't see the other two kids or any other adults.

And then Principal Morozov spotted me through the glass and shit, I was out of time.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. "Sorry it took me so long," I said, hoping that was the right thing to say. "It was hard getting off work."

"It's all right," Principal Morozov said. "We haven't even reached Mr. Accardo yet."

"Hey, Dad," came the halfhearted voice of Drew, hidden behind a chair too big for him, especially when he slumped in it like that.

I peered over the top and smiled at him softly. "What the heck, kid?" I asked.

"He called Patton a freak." Drew pointed at the kid in the middle, with a busted nose and--oh God.

He had scattered burn marks across the right side of his face, with two differently-colored eyes and a scowl.

"So of course you had to beat me up," the kid sneers. "Because that's a perfectly rational, healthy thing to do."

The third kid--Patton, I presumed--bounced in his seat, humming in distress. His father, a man wearing glasses and a polo shirt with a tie, rubbed his back.

"I don't see why my son has to be here," the other father said, looking at Principal Morozov. "He didn't do anything."

“Patton sits alone at lunch time and doesn’t have any friends,” the principal said. “We think if he tried to get along with his peers better, he’d have a happier time here.”

“Or, you know, you could make an effort to teach your students not to bully kids who are different from them,” I grumbled.

“What was that, Mr. Griffiths?”

I hesitated, glancing up at Principal Morozov, then back at Drew. On one hand, I wanted to lead by example: teach Drew that it was okay to stand up to authority for what he believed. On the other, sometimes, you had to pay lip-service to authority just to stay out of trouble. It was a lesson no child had the mental capacities to understand, but I supposed I’d have to do my best to teach him, because if I gave Principal Morozov cheek, he might expel Drew.

“Nothing, sir,” I said, feeling like a child cowering beneath the glare of my teachers again. I prepared to search for the bullshit in the story I was about to get fed and asked, “What happens now?”

"I'd prefer to wait for Mr. Accardo," the principal said.

"Roman teaches at a high school," the bully grumbled, slouched over with a glare fixated on the desk. "He's probably in the middle of class."

"Then you're going to have to stay after school to address this," Principal Morozov told him sternly.

"Whatever."

I had a very bad feeling about that kid. The scars on his face told a frightening story. He could just as easily be bullied for those as Drew got bullied for his ADHD and Patton for being a loner, which probably meant he turned that abuse outward and attacked others for their perceived differences in a never-ending cycle of abuse.

What? I could be bad at people and have a special interest in human psychology. Those two things were not mutually exclusive.

Suddenly, the door banged open. I jumped out of my skin, clamping a hand over my chest and struggling to breathe levelly, eyes crushed shut and body frozen. Then I heard the babbling.

"I'm sorry!" The principal's door opened. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. The kids were in the middle of rehearsal and--Janus, what happened? I'm so sorry, Mr. Morozov." A frazzled man with warm skin rushed inside and sat down next to the bully--Janus--hastily hugging him and turning his attention to the principal.

I frowned at the scene. I withheld judgment and looked at Principal Morozov as he said, "All right. Now that you're all here, there are going to be some serious consequences to what happened today."

********

"I can't believe you let him give me detention!" Drew whined. "Janus deserved to get punched!"

"And you deserve to die abandoned and unloved in a ditch, steeping in your own feces," Janus snapped.

"Janus," his father, Roman, said firmly, kneeling down and taking him by the shoulders. Janus tried to turn away from him, but Roman lightly shook him and made him meet his eyes. He softened. "I know how much you're hurting, but a hero never redirects his pain onto others. There are other ways."

"What if I don't want to be a hero?" Janus snapped. "What if I want to be the bad guy?"

"I don't believe that," Roman said gently, adjusting his bangs. "I don't think you do, either."

Janus turned from him sharply, crossing his arms and glaring at the asphalt. He sniffled.

Drew glanced up at me in confusion and I rubbed his back. "Sometimes," I said gently, "when people are hurting, they deal with that by hurting other people."

"That's stupid," Drew said with the blunt confidence of a ten-year-old.

"Maybe a little," I agreed, "but humans aren't always logical." Drew wrinkled his nose. "I know. It's so annoying, but it's true. You're not always logical, either. Remember when you burst out crying because your pencil broke?"

"Dad!" Drew turned bright red.

Roman chuckled. "So." He stood up and crossed his arms. "You're the little rascal who dared challenge Janus to a duel for--Patton, right?" He looked at Mr. Davis--or Logan, as he'd introduced himself--who nodded. "You're the rascal who challenged Janus to a duel for Patton's honor," Roman finished.

"He was being an asshole," Drew protested.

"I'd say it's not my fault he uses that language," I said through a wince, "but it's definitely my fault he uses that language."

"I'm the same way with Janus, don't worry." Roman chuckled--a low, rumbly sound. He turned back to Drew. "You're got a paladin's heart and a temper. I was a lot like you when I was a kid."

Drew snorted. "You think you're cute, don't you?"

"He's always like this," Janus said, shoving in front of Roman. "He thinks it's so inspiring to talk about heroes all the time, like fairy tales are the best thing ever."

"That's gotta be annoying," Drew said, wrinkling his nose.

"It is." Janus stopped and scowled. "Don't relate to me!"

"Ew! You're a jerk! Get away from me!"

I exchanged a fond, exasperated look with Roman, who chuckled and squeezed Janus' shoulder. "Hey," he said, "maybe, if you apologized, you could have a friend."

"I don't want to apologize."

"So you'd rather another kid think you're a horrible person!"

Janus hesitated a moment before straightened his back. "Yes."

"I don't believe that."

I glanced over at Logan and saw that he was busy talking to Patton, kneeling on the ground and smoothing his hands over his shoulders in measured strokes. It seemed to soothe Patton. I looked at Drew.

"You know how it sometimes hurts you when you think about your Aunt Cassie?" I said softly, pulling him into my side as the shadow washed over his face.

"He called Patton a freak, Dad," Drew argued. "He's not even really my friend, but he's not a freak. He's just...different. Like me."

"I know, kiddo," I said, squeezing him against my side. "You don't have to give him a chance. He hasn't asked forgiveness, and you wouldn't owe him one even if you did. I just know you don't like to see people struggling alone."

Drew hesitated.

I looked over at Logan. "How's Patton?"

Logan glanced back at me, then looked at Patton. "Do you want to answer?"

Patton hesitated.

"It's okay," I said, not looking at his face. Patton hadn't made eye contact with a single person, including his father, since I'd met him. He clearly had more trouble with it than I did, and I wasn't always a huge fan. "I'm autistic, too."

Patton immediately perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah." I smiled, looking over the top of his head. I looked at Drew. "Can I tell him about you?"

"I'm ADHD," Drew told him, turning to him. "I got diagnosed last year."

"Oh cool!" Patton flapped his hands at his sides and bounced eagerly. "I don't, I don't think, because I'm actually pretty good at focusing most of the time and I have a really good memory, but Dad says autism and ADHD are really close together. It's really nice to meet someone else! I don't have many friends."

"Well, I guess you have me," Drew said. "I didn't get in trouble defending you for nothing."

Patton squealed and continued stimming enthusiastically. Drew offered a hug, which Patton considered for a long moment before accepting.

Logan smiled softly at the exchange and looked over to me. "You've raised a very kind son."

"More than half of it is all him," I said. "I do the best I can, but...I'm just one person. He's probably gonna hate me once he's a teenager."

"Nuh-uh!" Drew objected, charging over to embrace me around the middle. I smiled and hugged him close, squeezing him as tight as was safe. He grunted.

I caught Janus staring at us. I couldn't read his expression. He was glaring, but I had a feeling it wasn't anger. But clearly, Roman did understand it, because he knelt down and hugged him close, even when he tried to push him away. He just held fast. I thought for sure Janus would react badly--he hadn't wanted to be held, what was wrong with Roman?--but then he slowly relaxed and leaned against him. I still couldn't read him very well, but that...didn't look particularly resigned.

"You know," Roman said, pulling back after a long while, "I bet Drew and Patton would be willing to forgive you if you really, really earnestly apologized."

Janus shoved away from him, crossing his arms and glaring at the ground. "I don't want to apologize."

Roman sighed heavily, and Drew whirled on him. "You're such a freaking jerk!" he screamed. "What's wrong with you? Why do you have to be a jerk to everyone? I tried to be your friend and you just spit on me!"

"I don't want your pity!"

"It wasn't pity!"

"It's always pity!" Janus screeched. "You think I don't know what these scars make me? You think I don't know I'm a freak? If the fire didn't teach me that, then my parents sure did! I'm nothing! The only reason anyone would be nice to me is pity and I don't want anyone's pity! I just want to be left alone!"

Janus turned and ran. Roman chased after him frantically, never sparing Logan or I a glance.

Drew and Patton stood stunned. Drew looked at Patton, who stared at his forehead. "Well..." he said. "What the heck am I supposed to do now?"

Patton ran in the direction of Janus.

At that point, about the only thing for Drew and I to do was chase after his new friend, hot on the heels of his father.

We found Patton with his backpack unzipped, standing beside Janus' car door, already buckled in with Roman partway into the driver's seat, holding out a picture of a flower.

"It's ivy," Patton said. "It means friendship."

Janus stared at him through the window, unmoving. Patton, to my shock, held his gaze for one, two moments and then averted his eyes. Logan hurried over to hold him, clearly expecting Janus to reject him again.

Janus opened the car door. "Why would you want to be my friend?"

"He didn't say he wanted to be your friend," Drew sneered. "He just said it meant friendship, dummy."

"Drew," I chided softly, and he recoiled into my side.

"Because it's nice to know I'm not the only one who can't make any friends," Patton said. "I like having other friends who are special."

"I'm not special," Janus snapped.

"Dad says that being different is always special, because different people have discovered some of the coolest, prettiest things ever."

"It's true," Logan said. "Albert Einstein, Hans Christian Anderson, and Michelangelo. were all autistic."

"See?" Patton bounced and beamed at Janus. "So maybe we can all be different and special together and do really cool things one day! Like the three Musketeers."

Janus considered strongly. "I'm Athos."

"You can be whoever you want to be!" Patton said earnestly. "Then we can all have lots of musketcheer."

Drew, Roman and I choked on a laugh. Logan shook his head fondly. "He watches one sitcom that likes puns and he suddenly won't stop," he said.

Even Janus cracked a small smile. He accepted the paper. "Fine," he said. "We can have musketcheer."

Drew pouted. "Does this mean I'm your friend now?"

"Yes," Patton said firmly, looking at him.

Drew jumped, looking fearfully at Patton, who somehow managed to look intimidating while also avoiding eye contact. He looked up at me. "What have I done?" he asked.

"Made friends." I rubbed his back. I looked around. "We should probably get all these guys home. They've had a long day, and school will be letting out soon."

"I guess now that all our kids are friends, I'll be seeing more of you," Roman said to both Logan and me.

Logan hummed. "I presume so. Patton does not own a phone of his own. I can give you my number if your children wish to contact him?"

"I hate to say it, but you should probably get him his own phone," I said. "It's dangerous not to have one. If I ever lost sight of Drew...I'd rather he have a phone."

Logan considered this. "I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, for the moment, you'll have to go through me to reach Patton."

"Don't have to ask me twice. Here." Roman accepted Logan's phone and typed in Janus' number, then passing it to Drew, who stared at it for a moment.

I recited his number to him and he punched it in. "Don't worry, kid," I said. "One day, you're going to have to tell so many doctors your number that it's going to be emblazoned on your brain."

After all numbers had been exchanged, I shook Logan's and Roman's hands goodbye and let Patton and Drew embrace again. Janus stayed stubbornly in his seat, refusing any sort of affection, which kind of concerned me, but then Roman whispered, "This is the most receptive he's been since I started fostering him."

I nodded and smiled, leading Drew back toward the car. He looked at me. "I guess I have friends now."

I glanced back toward Roman's car as it drove away and caught Logan's eye as he loaded into his own. He smiled at me.

"Yeah," I said. "I think I might have, too."

[nasaty]

Noctilucence

Student Aizawa x (she/her) student reader, so much angssssttt and grief and a bunch of fluff. (Do not bring any pedo shit into my presence or I will fucking destroy you)

This will be 9 chapters long. Ch. 2 here.

MANGA SPOILERS until episode 107 comes out. - also this requires context that I am not providing from MHA manga and the arc with Aizawa in Vigilantes. TW: death.

Lmk if you like it and I can post more!

Ch. 1 the Clouds

As someone who was uniquely talented and had a very useful quirk, the first few weeks of your first year at UA went by quickly. You were favorited by your new classmates because of your intelligence and your extremely powerful healing quirk, so everyone wanted you at their side. You decided to take the path of general studies, being that you wouldn’t be in combat much but more so in rescue services, you would be more well rounded that way. After the first few hectic weeks blew past, things seemed to settle and you realized you hadn’t made a lot of friends, just some colleagues and acquaintances, which was fine, networking is important, but didn’t make you feel like you fit in as much as you should. Everyone was friendly with you but usually just on the surface, so they can get you to you help them with something. You obliged, since the whole reason you went to UA was to learn to effectively help people in the first place. You drifted along in classes and were generally abject with your life, until you met Oboro.

You were asked to sit in on a few sparring matches by hero course 2-A’s home room teacher since recovery girl would be out for about a week. Since your quirk allowed you to heal from a distance, you stood with 2-A’s sensei and took in the abilities and personalities of your future colleagues. Being that they were in their second year and you in your first, you’d hardly seen them at all yet, but were mesmerized by their quick thinking and mastery they had obtained after such a short time. Though you meant to take notes, you were too distracted and hypnotized by each heros proficiency.

These sparring matches were essentially used as a practical midterm, so each pair had a designated time which meant you would probably be there all day, even though a few pairs went the day before. Each midterm took about a half an hour, sometimes more, and the heros seemed equally matched. Standing next to 2-A’s sensei, you felt small and cold because of the gyms air conditioning. One side of the gym was plain, almost like a basketball court. The other was a rocky, almost impossible looking terrain where the matches were taking place. You yawned as you looked at your watch, noticing it was well past lunch but neither of you had eaten yet.

The next pair came into the gym on opposite sides and shook hands, and the home room teacher blew the whistle signaling the start of the match. You instantly recognized their quirks; one had some sort of blast quirk that was very bright and dynamic, and the other had the ability of creating and manipulating clouds of some sort. It seemed clear to you soon after the whistle who would have the upper hand, but that flipped rapidly as the battle went on, immersing you in the adrenaline filled motions the boys made with precision. The larger boy with the sunglasses seemed to be somewhat irritated and yielded a bit, while the cloud boy with light blue hair was surprisingly agile and stealthy, even when his opponent’s blasts broke through his barrier. You hear him shout things a few times, almost teasingly at the larger kid, but it appeared to be light hearted.

Blast kid had connected one good hit on the cloud kid’s arm, and you heard it reverberate through the gym. You barely had the time to blink before thick clouds covered them both. Their home room teacher nudged you as if to signal to be prepared to heal either one of them since you had both lost sight. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, cloud kid bursts from the top of the mist and pulled out a quarter staff, (you could’ve swore it appeared out of thin air,) and in no time, disappears into the mist again.

The vapor slowly dissipated and you saw cloud kid with an adorably bright smile on his face, while his opponent was pinned to the ground, scowling.

“I wasn’t even trying that’s why you were able to beat me. I don’t even care about this midterm,” he barked.

“Sure man, either way it was a good match! Thanks!” The winner said as he held out his hand to help him up. The other scoffed at him, stood up on his own, and mumbled something to himself. He exited where he originally entered the gym.

The homeroom teacher called out to cloud kid, “Oboro! Come here, that hit sounded rough.”

He lightly jogged over to you both, having not even broken a sweat, and was entirely gleaming. Seemingly bursting with energy he proudly shook his sensei’s hand as a small congratulations on the victory, and turned to you.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” he pulled out a granola bar from his pocket and started eating it sloppily. He spoke again before you had a second to respond. “Are you new here? A transfer student maybe? I’m Shirakumo Oboro, but you can just call me Oboro, or Cloud, or whatever you want. I don’t mind!”

For a second you were wary that he was being friendly to get you to do something for him, but then realized he had no idea who you were, so he was actually just that nice naturally. He surprisingly just met you and allowed you to call him by a nickname.

2-A’s Sensei leaned in, “Hey you’re on lunch now by the way, sorry it’s late, you’ve got an hour and a half till you need to be back here for the rest of it.” You thanked him silently with a head nod and he sauntered away. You made eye contact with Oboro.

“Hi Oboro,” you grinned, “I’m Y/n, I’m a first year so that’s probably why we haven’t met, but I am subbing for recovery girl today.”

“SUBBING AS A FIRST YEAR you must be pretty freakin cool then” he downed some water and some of it got on his shirt. “What is your quirk then?”

“I can heal people from a distance if I know what the issue is. So like if someone has kidney failure I can’t see that, so I might not be able to figure that one out, but if someone has a broken bone or something I can see that and fix it. So I’m learning a little internal medicine on the side so I can diagnose properly to heal.”

“Dang dude that’s sweet I just make clouds,” he bursted out laughing, and then heard your stomach growl, it has been a few hours since you’ve had anything to eat.

“Hey Y/n I have lunch right now too, do you wanna come down to the LRC with me? (what some kids called the Lunch Rush Cafe,) I can introduce you to some of our classmates.” You liked how he said our classmates, he’s genuinely very sweet and made you feel warm and welcome.

You started walking towards the cafeteria and filed into the hallway, following the crowd.

“I’ll still go down there even though I’ve eaten half my lunch already” he said pulling a sandwich out of his other pocket.

You giggled, “You have your whole lunch in your pockets?”

“Yeah?!” he stated with a mouthful, “you never know when you’re gonna need more energy, like after that match! At least I don’t eat those weird energy pouches like Shouta!” He laughed boisterously. You wondered who the heck ‘Shouta’ was.

You each went through the line in the busy cafeteria, Lunch Rush quickly handed you your meal and Oboro stuffed too many energy bars in his pockets.

“My friends eat on the roof if you wanna come up there! It’s….not exactly allowed but it’s not *NOT* allowed”

You pondered the thought of doing something that risky as a first year, but shook it off, knowing that Oboro wouldn’t lead you astray. Even though you had just met him, you were as comfortable as if you had known him for years. You nodded and hummed, signaling for him to lead the way, (you didn’t know how to get to the roof anyway,) and followed close behind.

[holden-caulfield]

Let's Make A Deal

↪︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: draco and reader get hurt during a quidditch match and they wake up in the hospital wing together.

Warnings: mentions of blood (nothing too graphic i think, but if you're not ok with it don't read this!)

Word Count: 2040

This idea came to me unexpectedly and i thought it was really cool. I hope you think so too :)

//

It was the day of the match: gryffindor vs slytherin. The stalls were filled with hundreds of people sporting the colors of the two teams, creating two giant moving blocks of red and green. The teams were already hovering on their brooms throughout the entire pitch and with them, you. You were one of the chasers for the gryffindor team, fast and agile, second only to Harry Potter who dashed through the air at the speed of lightning.

On the other team, the slytherins were getting ready, trying to intimidate your squad with all kinds of dirty looks. They did in fact intimidate you, but not because of their mean glares, because you knew they would have been ready to do anything to win. Much was at stake that day: the victory, the quidditch cup and honor.

When Madame Hooch blew the whistle, everyone sprinted for their respective balls: you went for the quaffle. The game was going smoothly, maybe even too smoothly as you and the other chasers kept on scoring for gryffindor. The reason, as you soon noticed, was because the bludgers weren't hindering you: one of them was currently being thrown around by Fred and George while the other one was ruthlessly pursuing the slytherin seeker, Draco Malfoy. A rogue bludger, you reckoned.

The seeker was trying desperately to get rid of it, but no matter how hard he tried, the bludger was always hot on his tail.

"What are you doing, y/l/n?!" shouted Oliver Wood from his post in front of the giant hoops as you stopped in mid-air to look at Harry and Draco being mercilessly chased by the big iron ball.

"That's a rogue bludger, we have to stop the game!"

"You can't stop quidditch! Plus, it's only helping us, keep scoring!" you scowled at Oliver knowing that nothing was more important than winning the cup for him and resumed the game, but as you took hold of the quaffle, the bludger snapped past you, almost making you lose control of your broom. The slytherin beaters had managed to free Draco from the rogue bludger, but it wasn't long until the ball chased him again.

Both Draco and Harry had now seen the golden snitch and were sprinting to grab it before the other.

"Malfoy!" you shouted at the top of your lungs, but it was of no use. The sudden distraction of the snitch made Draco forget about the bludger that hit him square in the head, causing him to fall down towards the ground at a frightening pace. You rushed towards the boy without a second thought: he might have been your opponent, but such a fall could have even killed him and you wouldn't have allowed it. You caught him inches from the ground and jumped down from your broom, laying him down.

"Malfoy! Hey, Malfoy!" he was unconscious, the bludger had hit him quite well.

Draco might have been done with the bludger, but the bludger wasn't done with Draco: you saw it dashing in the sky and descending at a dangerous speed towards the blond boy. You acted on impulse and covered him with your body, shielding him from the hard sphere that would have surely damaged him even more.

"Y/n! Get away from there!" you heard Fred shouting before the bludger struck you on your back. You let out a harrowing shriek, supporting yourself on your elbows not to crush the boy underneath you. You gritted your teeth as the bludger kept on beating you, only increasing its strength. You felt tears pool in your eyes as you felt your back breaking with every new hit, until it stopped.

Madame Hooch had managed to destroy the rogue bludger and you simply rolled beside Draco's unconscious body, eyes still tightly closed as you felt blood soaking your robes. A large crowd formed around you and the slytherin and you did your best to get up from the ground, but instead clutched your back with your hands, crossing your arms in front of you.

"Oh for Marlin's sake, how are you feeling, dear?" Madame Hooch questioned, looking distraught as she kneeled down in front of you and Draco.

"I'm not complaining. I'm not the one who has been hit in the face by that demonic thing." you managed to breathe out. Talking made the pain in your back even more excruciating and you bit your lip in order not to shriek again, almost drawing blood from your lips.

Dumbledore and other professors had joined the circle that was surrounding you, staving off all of your teammates and the other slytherins, eyes widening after seeing the state in which you and the other boy were in: you were writhing on the ground, trying to find a position in which you wouldn't feel like shards of glass were puncturing your skin, while the slytherin laid completely still on the grass, his platinum blond head now getting increasingly redder in the point the bludger had hit him.

The two of you were immediately brought in the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey almost killed the professors after seeing two students in such conditions. She cursed quidditch and its 'barbaric ways', all the while examining your back and Draco's head. Madame Pomfrey gave you a glass of some liquid and focused her attention of the boy laying on the bed next to yours.

"Will he be alright?" you asked softly, peeking over her shoulder to see if the blond had awaken yet.

"Drink that and then get some sleep, miss y/l/n. Broken backs are serious stuff and I can't do much for the pain."

"But will he be ok?" you insisted. Madame Pomfrey sighed and turned to you.

"He will, but do yourself a favor and get some sleep. When you will wake up, you'll ask him yourself." that seemed to be enough for you and you drank the glittering liquid in the glass. The pain decreased only slightly, but enough to allow you to fall in a deep slumber. Deep but not peaceful since the only scenes that replayed in your head were the one that happened earlier that day. You found yourself questioning your choices: why did you blindly took his place? Why didn't you just let him on the ground by himself? Not even his teammates had rushed to help him, so why did you? But, as you kept falling more and more asleep, you couldn't find any answer.

The next morning you still felt a searing pain in your back, but it was far more bearable than the night before. You were still half asleep, eyes closed, when you heard someone whispering next to you. You kept your eyes sealed, focusing on the voice to hear it better.

"Come on, wake up. Please wake up." you weren't sure whose voice it was: it was deep and slightly hoarse, as if the person had just stopped crying.

"Come on, you have to wake up. You endured a bloody rogue bludger and you can't wake up?" you heard the voice assert, slightly chuckling and sniffling. The voice stopped talking for a moment. You felt a pair of hands grasping yours and holding it tenderly, drawing mindless pattern on its back.

"I'm pretty sure you can't hear me now, so i want to thank you. You didn't have to do it and yet you did." you recognized the voice to be Draco's, but you remained silent.

"I don't know why, no one would have done what you did, especially a gryffindor." he sniffled once more.

"You have been incredibly daft. You could have been seriously injured and for what? For me? You are an idiot if i ever saw one." he continued, giggling lightly. You could almost picture him in your mind, his bandaged head, his grey teary eyes and his cheeky grin.

"I never thought i would have had a chance with you but now that i almost got you killed i know for a fact." you desperately wanted to open your eyes and tell him that he still had a chance. Hell, he had even more than a chance, but you kept them closed. He remained silent for a few seconds again, still caressing your hand, and then you felt a light drop wet the back of it.

"Please wake up. I need to see you're alright."

"Why?" you asked, opening slightly your eyes with a smug grin on your face. He left your hand and immediately got up and distanced himself from you, thoroughly ashamed.

"How much did you hear?" he asked almost panicked.

"Oh, i don't know... i heard you insulting me though. That's not a very nice thing to do when talking to someone on an hospital bed." you replied cheekily and his cheeks heated up a little. You stretched your arm out and motioned for him to sit down again. When he did, you offered him you hand once more and, after eyeing it suspiciously for a moment, he gingerly took it in his own.

"Do you want to know something funny?" you asked playfully and he raised an eyebrow at you.

"You had a chance with me until you called me an idiot." you stated and he chuckled once more.

"So you heard that too, huh?"

"Seems so."

"Does it hurt?" he asked, suddenly conscious of the whole reason why you were there.

"Less than before. But don't change the topic." you said and you tried to sit up, but underestimated your pain and winced.

"Woah, woah. Stay down, i'll go call Madame Pomfrey." you grasped his hand firmly, preventing him from leaving you alone.

"Don't. I'm fine." he looked at you with concern written all over his face. "Please, stay."

His eyes softened and sat again in his chair, moving it slightly closer to the edge of your bed.

"How's your head?" you asked. As you had imagined, he had a white bandage across his head, with a red stain on the back.

"I'll survive." he shrugged his shoulders before continuing, "Thanks to you." you grinned widely at his words and shook your head in fake disapproval, causing a loose strand of hair to fall in front of your face. He instantly tucked it behind your ear, his hand lingering there before returning in his lap.

"Well, i don't think you would be doing too good if it hadn't been for Madame Pomfrey!" you corrected, still holding his hand in yours.

"Of course, but if it hadn't been for you, Madame Pomfrey couldn't have done much... They told me what you did."

"And...? It was heroic, wasn't it?" you said proudly, feigning superiority with a smug smirk.

"I stand by what i said. You are an idiot if i ever saw one." he replied matter-of-factly, but still in a playful manner.

"Oh, you hurt me, Malfoy!" he tried to stifle a laugh but couldn't and instead shook his head lightly. Your eyes suddenly widened and Draco's did too as soon as he noticed.

"Are you ok? What happened?"

"Who won the match?" Draco stared at you, mouth agape, a look of incredulity in his silvery eyes as he scoffed slightly.

"Well? Who won?" you asked again, expectantly.

"I don't know. Pomfrey hasn't let anyone inside het." you stayed silent, pondering for a few seconds.

"Let's make a deal."

"A deal?"

"A deal. If gryffindor won, i'll forget you ever called me an idiot and we can go on a date."

Draco's lips curled up slightly, "and what if slytherin won?"

You waited for a moment, staring at him in defy.

"Then we don't talk ever again." you said inching closer with your face towards the boy. Draco had a one-sided smile plastered on his face and his eyes narrowed at you. He extended his hand out and you shook it, sealing the deal. Right in that moment, Fred and George burst inside, with Madame Pomfrey in tow, trying to restrain the twins.

"Y/n! Still alive?" shouted Fred.

"Out of here now! They need to rest!"

"Madame Pomfrey, can i talk with them for a moment?" you tried asking, but she was not having any of it.

"You need to rest! You'll see them later!" and she started to usher Fred and George outside by force. You glanced at Draco who was looking at the scene very amused, then back at the twins.

"Who won the match?" you inquired, almost shouting, and the twins managed to respond before being shut outside by Madame Pomfrey.

"It's postponed."

//

Taglist <3

@turn-to-page-394-please @gwlvr @dracosaccount @astoria-malfcy @dracomalfoys-wh0re @ch0kemedracomalfoy @cherie-draco

[if your name is crossed out, check your privacy settings!]

[mrpenguinpants]

Childe/Tartaglia: “Enemies” to “Lovers”

Aww, thank you 💕💕 All of you are so lovely ;-; Coming out from the bushes and attacking me.

Have you guy’s seen the Childe trailer? It’s in Chinese but holy shit I want him?? Who is Xiao anymore? WHAT ARE LOYALTIES??? I’m gonna ATTEMPT to roll for Childe. I love snake two faced characters so much.

I’ve never written for Childe before and there’s not a lot to go off on but I will try my best. Honestly, he’s like Dazai 2.0 for me lol.

I’m not sure what scenario you wanted but since I’m hard simping for this man, I made this a lot a bit self indulgent. I actually had a completely different idea so that’s where the enemies to lovers title comes from before I scrapped it. Now if you’ll excuse me, here’s your 2k words of food.

Update: Guess what? You’re getting a part 2. Don’t know when but now I have a taglist if you want to be added and tagged when it comes out 

---

Childe/Tartaglia: “Enemies” to “[Lovers]”

Childe silently hops over the wall and onto the roof in the dead of night. The moon was shining high, casting dark shadows that he slips in between them as he eyes his destination. An open window leading to an important personnel. Usually, he would send an agent to observe, but once he learned who this secret person was, he decided to take it into his own hands. To stretch his muscles a bit. His hand quickly caught the edge of the window sill as he raises himself and drops into the spacious room. He whistles lowly as he looks around. This was a big room but it wasn’t that much of a surprise, considering who was staying here.

“Thank you, have a good night.”

His head perks up as he hears a voice and steps into the shadows of the room. He can faintly make out an outline of a body behind the sliding doors and stands back, out of sight. He watches as the doors slowly open and the person he’s been looking for steps in. One of the leaders of the Qixing. As soon as the door’s close behind you, your shoulder’s finally relaxed before turning around to walk to the other end of the room where a large mirror was placed. You loosen the pin holding your clothes up, finally ready to get rid of these heavy clothes. He quickly averts his eyes but your voice once again breaks the silence.

“Do you make it a habit of watching others without their knowledge or are you going to say something?” you ask as you turn around as your eyes roam around what appeared to be an empty room. He weighs his options before shrugging and stepping out into the moonlight with his arms raised in mock surrender.

“I swear I would look away. I’m a bad guy but I’m not one of those types. I promise!” He laughs casually despite the circumstance, “I’m surprised you noticed me. But I suppose one of the Qixing would be capable of such an act.”

“Oh no, you were perfect. You just came at a bad time. But who are you? You don’t act like an agent” you eyed him carefully as you fiddled with your pin.

“I’m Childe, one of the Fatui’s Eleven Harbingers,” he replies giving a mock bow in your direction. He watches your reaction to see if you’ll panic and call for the Millelith. Instead, you simply nod along and you’ve stopped fiddling with the pin on your clothing.  

“Ah, I’ve met a few of you Harbingers. You don’t look like one” you remarked as you turn around once again to finally undo the pin. Childe quickly turns his gaze away as you settle the heavy clothes on the table to fold. You pull your inner clothes closer to yourself to keep warm in the chilly room.

“I’m a bit too young to see their way of thinking. So I don’t fit in well with them,” he shrugs unbothered. He’s never liked the other Harbingers anyways, “I wasn’t aware that the Qixing had other leaders present.”

“Well, the Qixing prefer to keep things somewhat discreet-”

“Yaoguang? Is everything alright? We heard voices,” one of the Millelith cuts you off as both Childe and your eyes dart to the paper screen door. Childe steps silently towards the window sill, ready to escape if needed. He would have to do a lot of unnecessary explaining if he were caught and the Qixing were already suspicious of the Fatui.

“Yes, I’m alright. I haven’t heard anything at all. Are you sure you are alright? Maybe you should rest,” you quickly walk to the door and slide it open just enough for the Millelith to see your face. The Millelith shakes his head and quietly apologizes for disturbing you before leaving.

“That looks like my cue to go, it’s getting pretty late anyway,” Childe smiles as he ducks under the window sill and gives a small wave back to you.

“Have a good night Childe.”

“You too, Yaoguang.”

---

“Don’t you think the Qixing are a bit too secretive?”

You turn around to see Childe sitting on the window sill as he ponders the thought. His right leg is resting on his left knee as his arm hold’s his chin as he stares at the wall in front of him. You give him a quick once over before going back to what you were doing, polishing your pin.

“Are you sure one of the Fatui should be saying that? Your organization plays with deceit and trickery” you laugh quietly to yourself as you place your pin in a old wooden box. It looked out of place in the room with the crude drawings and chipped paint, but Childe thought it suited you.

“Hey, I don’t agree with those methods at least! I’m here in front of you, aren’t I? But what about you? Aren’t you keeping me a secret from the Qixing?” he grins mischievously as he directs his attention onto you. Your back to still to him but he can watch your face in the reflection of the mirror. He’s not sure if he should commend you on your relaxed expression or the fact that he could easily kill you with your back turned.

“Mm, perhaps. But I enjoy this. You may not believe me but I think of you as a friend Childe. A personal secret of mine.” you say amused as you look up into the reflection of the mirror and manage to catch his surprised expression before it disappears.

“A friend? We’ve barely known each other,” he looked at you incredulously but with a wry smile, “I might seem nice but I’m still a bad guy.”

“A lot of people in Liyue don’t appear as they seem. But I don’t consider all of them as bad people. Don’t you think so Childe?”

He doesn’t say anything. You never mention it again.

---

“I have a younger sister who is an astrologist,” you say as you’re lying back on the bed while he sits on the window sill, “she’s the one that gave me this pin except her pin is red with the star and moon.”

You held the pin up for him to take and look for himself. He slips off the window sill and walks to your lying figure to take hold of it. It was a blue pin with a star in the center and the sun’s rays lining the edges of the rim. It was a bit worn but it was in incredibly good condition. He’s seen how you look at the pin so he’s not surprised.

“Astrology huh? Aren’t you Qixing named after the Big Dipper’s stars?” he asks as he hands the pin back to you and watches your eyes take a childlike gleam. He huffs a bit amused under his breath, you always seem to get like this whenever he let’s you ramble about stars.

“Yes, Yaoguang is translated from the Alkaid star. Alkaid derives from the Arabic phrase meaning "The leader of the daughters of the bier". The daughters of the bier are the three stars of the handle of the Big Dipper, Alkaid, Mizar, and Alioth. While the four stars of the bowl, Megrez, Phecda, Merak, and Dubhe, are the bie,” you ramble on making different gesture as you continue your mini lecture, “Tianquan and Yuheng are the stars Megrez and Alioth. They are here in Liyue too but Tianquan will be the one that preforms the Rite of Descension. It feels as if I’m attending my sister’s talent show even if Tianquan is older than me.”

“Hm, I’ve never looked into studying the stars. I’m more of a fighter,” Childe comments as he hears you laugh that you’re not surprised. He looks towards the moon and see’s it’s his time to leave. You give him a small wave as he starts back to the window sill before giving a small comment over his shoulder.

“You know I also have a younger sister.”

“Is she aware of what you do Childe?”

“No, of course not. Does your sister know what you do?”

“No, she doesn’t know either.”

---

“Can I see your mask?”

He unstraps it from his head and hands it to you as he watches you run your finger around the intricate details before moving it over your face. You’re both seated on the bed this time beside each other.

“I don’t understand how you can fight wearing this,” you say as you squint your eyes through the opening of the mask. He chuckles softly at the weird expression before plucking his mask out of your hands.

“Hm? I thought the Qixing were capable fighters?” he asks as he reattaches the mask to the side of his head. He rest’s his chin back onto his hand and settles back into his comfortable position.

“Yes, Tianquan uses the geo element while Yuheng uses electro,” you list off on one hand.

“What do you use?” he asks.

“Who knows” you answer.

He pouts a bit which you have to stifle your laugh at. It’s somewhat amazing how far he’s gone with this. He’s pretty busy managing business behind the scenes and getting on friendly terms with that funeral parlor man, Zhongli was it? Yet, he finds himself back here whenever he get’s a free night.

“I’m sorry for laughing but I never thought you could make such an expression. But I’m being honest. I can’t use a vision so I don’t know,” you shrug as you lie back down and close your eyes. Childe nods along even though you can’t see him. He had always thought the pin you carried was your vision until you let him hold it for himself.

“If you joined the Fatui. We could give you a vision,” he says as his gaze almost pierces through you but you continue to look unbothered. Your eye’s still remained peacefully closed.

“It’s the night before the Rite of Descension. It will be a busy day so you should get some rest before then Childe”

---

It was the day of the Rite of Descension and he had yet to see you. He knew you would be observing but wouldn’t you at least be at a vantage point where you could view the entire ritual?

“Excuse me, have you seen the Yaoguang?” he asks one of the Qixing attendants but she only looks at him confused. He’s not that surprised about that either.

“Yaoguang? I’m sorry but that leader isn’t here in Liyue right now. Did you mean to ask for Tianquan Lady Ningguang perhaps?” she attempts to correct as she gestures to the middle of the stage, where the white haired woman was standing.

“Yaoguang isn’t here? They haven’t appeared at all these past few weeks for the Rite of Descension to observe?” he asks again but the lady shook her head as he chuckled. So not even people closest to the Qixing knew that one of their leaders was being impersonated.

“Oh, sorry. Yes, I meant for Tianquan Ningguang. Sorry, these star names are a bit hard to wrap my head around” he laughs it off before walking away before the lady has time to respond.

“She is busy preparing for the Rite of Descension so she won’t be seeing anyone anytime soon. Perhaps after the ceremony if it’s urgent?” she still calls out to him before going back to her responsibilities.  

Tartaglia nods as he waves goodbye before continuing on. He never cared for the Rite of Descension but maybe today will be interesting. He spots two familiar faces in the crowd trying to get to the front to see the Rite of Descension. They seem to be friends. He laughs to himself as he reminisces all your past interactions with him. He’ll find out sooner or later who this mysterious Yaoguang impersonator is. After all, the walls have ears.

---

Part 2 perhaps? Depends on the feedback I get on this. I read about the big dipper for this fic. 

[its-deputy-caleb]

haiiiiiiiiiiiiii can we get a john x fem reader wherein the reader is the doctor and a friend of the macfarlanes and they patch him up after getting shot by bill LOL (rdr1!! i’m not sure if you’ve played that but if you havent it’s ok to ignore this tysm :3)

WOAHH this is long overdue but I haven’t played the first (don’t kill me) so I decided to watch a 10hr play through— I’m yet to finish it cause its long and I’m watching it in short segments but I think I could tackle this. I really hope this doesn’t flop bc idk what I’m doing lmao.

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

It’s just a regular afternoon when Bonnie returns back to the ranch, you’re cleaning some of the medical cabinets, making lists of what needs to be topped up when you next take a trip to town or the Ranch’s general store. It’s light work for an easy afternoon but that all change pretty quickly when Bonnie came storming through the door, asking you for help on a man who’d been shot and needed urgent medical attention.

The list of medicines is dropped to the floor as she shows you to one of the units where he was currently laid out in the bed. You sat down, clearing his shirt and jacket to stop the bleeding and clean the wound. You were well focused on your work, stitching up the wound with practiced ease and addressing his other minor injuries like the small cut to the back of his head from hitting the ground and the bruising to his ribs from the bullet wound. Unbeknown to you, Bonnie has taken a stand behind your shoulder to watch you work.

“Damn fool thought he could take out Bill Williamson.”

“Bill Williamson?”

You could only stare down in surprise at the unconscious man before you. A man like Bill Williamson was not to be reckoned with, especially in a shootout if the evidence before you is anything to go by.

It took a few more hours of care but Bonnie stayed with you to make light of the situation and keep you company, only coming and going to bring back any supplies you needed. Once you’d properly bandaged his abdomen you stood from the shabby wooden stool you were sitting on and dusted your hands. You collected your tools into your bag and placed a soft hand to Bonnie’s shoulder.

“He should be fine now. He’s going to need lots of rest while his wound heals and he’ll probably be disoriented and dehydrated when he wakes but nothing more, you’ll find me if his condition worsens?”

Bonnie gave you a short nod in agreement, happy to stay with him for a few hours while you went and got some rest.

-

John woke with a splitting headache and a burning pain in his side. The events of the last few days coming back to him. He didn’t get time to think about it much however, when a golden haired woman came through the door, instantly giving him a light hearted lecture about chasing after Bill Williamson and getting shot at.

“Well while you may have done something stupid— we got to you in time and the Doc fixed you up real fine, got the bullets removed a few days ago. You’re a lucky man Mr…err?”

John made his way to the edge of the bed, sitting up and groaning at the pain that is usual for a bullet wound.

“Mr. Marston— John Marston and I suppose I should be thankin’ him for fixing me up.”

The woman leaned against the handle of the door, watching him shuffle on his feet awkwardly as she smirked at him.

“Bonnie MacFarlane. Miss, Bonnie MacFarlane and I hope you do thank her. She did a real fine job of takin’ care of you. She spends her mornings up on the hill by one of the large oak trees by the paddock, I suggest you pay her a visit before you start working off your medical bills.”

And with that, John picked up his hat from the wooden table that Bonnie had saved for him and started making his way over to you.

-

You were standing over by one of the smaller sheep paddocks off to the side of the MacFarlane Ranch and took in a deep breath, basking in the morning sun and leaning your elbows against the fence. You usually took the mornings to yourself, having half an hour to wake up slowly and enjoy yourself before you tented to a range of injuries and illnesses. Having been longtime friends to Bonnie and her father, your family had always been respected at the ranch and that came with certain privileges such as time off work in the morning.

Your peaceful moment was distributed, but not unpleasantly as you noticed the man who Bonnie bought in yesterday walking towards you. When he reached a certain distance his hat came off and held it in his hands, flattening his stringy hair as he addressed you.

“Pardon me ma’am, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Miss MacFarlane said you were the one needed thanking for taking care o’ me— so thank you.”

You noticed how he fiddled with the brim of his hat in his hands, trying not to look what you’d guess was embarrassed.

After you two introduced each other and you accepted John’s thanks, you offered for him to come and stand beside you by the fence.

“So who does a man have to be to go after an outlaw and bandit such as Bill Williamson?”

Your question was supposed to be lighthearted and fun, ready to tease him just as Bonnie had done for waltzing into Fort Mercer alone. You didn’t expect for John to answer you honestly

“An old friend…”

You stared at him in shock but he didn’t seem to notice as he stared out into the paddock of grazing sheep.

“Wait you know Bill Williamson?”

He could only nod for a moment, giving you a polite but almost sad smile at what seemed like a painful memory.

“Yes ma’am. There was a time when Bill and I weren’t so different.”

-

You actually spent a lot longer than you’d anticipated talking to John. For some reason unknown to you, John seemed to open up a fair bit. Maybe it all came down to the fact that you were approachable and kind, a quality you needed as the ranches doctor. Nevertheless he spent hours telling you about some of his time with the old ‘Van Der Linde Gang’. John spoke of train robberies and homesteads, what it was like to steal from folk and live wildly. He even mentioned gang rivalries and the epic tale of surviving a wolf attack.

He told you of some of the best times and even the worst but all of them were distance memories and he seemed quick to change the topic about why exactly he wanted to ‘reunite’ with Bill.

“What about you, Miss? How’d you end up here? Don’t see many female doctors around— w-with no offence intended ma’am.”

You let out a small laugh, hearing his curiosity turn to something desperate as he realised he may have been offensive. You kept your weight on one elbow, facing towards him and smiled.

“Well my daddy is the head doctor but he’s now semi retired. He’s a good man but he wasn’t always a doctor. A long time ago, when I was just a little girl our family were ranch handlers just like Bonnie’s family, but well… one season all the cattle got sick and were dying so my father moved to medicine. The MacFarlane’s are old friends and we’ve been with them ever since.”

John hummed, turning his gaze from you to stare at the vast Ranch that was almost a village in his eyes.

“Seem like good people— real decent folk.”

You nodded in response, growing up on this ranch became your home and you loved the MacFarlane’s very deeply.

“Indeed they are Mr.Marston, decent folk are hard to come by these days.”

Your pleasant conversation with John was suddenly interrupted by Bonnie who whistled down by the stables, clearly signalling for John to come and assist her with chores around the ranch. You could only hope that meant seeing more of John.

“It seems Miss MacFarlane will be needing my help. Thank you again ma’am, you saved my life.”

You didn’t get to say much as John took your hand in his, brining it to his mouth in a polite kiss to your knuckle before walking down the hill. He didn’t get far before you stopped him one last time.

“Oh Mr. Marston! I need to ride into town tomorrow to restock on medicines that they don’t stock at the general store. Would you be so kind as to accompany me?”

You eyes were full of hope and joy as he nodded and gave you a warm smile.

“It’s John, and I could think of nothing better than to help you ma’am”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto your face as you watched John load his horse and ride of with Bonnie and a few others to work at various places around the ranch. You couldn’t stop the fluttery feeling in your stomach either at the anticipation and excitement of getting to see the mysterious but intriguing man John Marston.

(I will do a part 2 since i need more time to get a feel for rdr1!!)

[dreaminpetals]

Can you do Idv Andrew relationships Hcs, maybe add nsfw if it's not too hard. thank you so much also I love your writing style :))

⏳ Andrew Relationship HCs . . .

SFW ;;

♡ when andrew first arrived at the manor, everyone welcomed him pretty well but nobody ever went out of their way to make him feel welcome

♡ except for you

♡ you'd always make sure he had something to eat, an umbrella for the sun, and would help him walk if he felt dizzy or couldn't see very well

♡ he couldn't understand why a stranger was being so kind to a monster like him

♡ he was so enamoured with you, it was like you had put a spell on him

♡ thank goodness his shaggy hair covers so much of his face because every time your hands touched when you handed him a snack he'd blush furiously

♡ when you shared an umbrella with him, he was squirming so hard from how happy you made him and how new this feeling was.. you noticed he was walking weird and thought it was due to his condition, not that he was trying to stop himself from bouncing like a puppy every time he walked with you

♡ before the sound of footsteps shook him to his core, now he associates them with you approaching him to tell him about your latest match and he gets 🦋🦋🦋

♡ andrew is a religious man, so he figured you were an angel sent to watch over him

♡ you laughed when he referred to you as an angel but secretly... you didn't mind the name

♡ whatever you were, he felt blessed by your presence and unworthy of your kindness

♡ when he asked why you never degraded him for his condition, you explained that the timeline you were from before reaching the manor is about a hundred years ahead of his so you knew all about albinism, you even had classmates with it

♡ he stared at you in awe and sniffed back tears, thinking about how people like him were able to attend school and make friends

♡ you held his hand when you noticed him battling the urge to cry

♡ he'd never felt such warmth before

♡ andrew was the kindest, most gentle man you've ever met and it felt like daggers to your heart when he told you about how he was tormented his whole life

♡ that was when you kissed him and whispered, cupping his cheek and staring lovingly into his eyes, "it's okay andrew, they're all gone now, we all love you here... i love you,"

♡ he nearly fell off the bench the two of you were sitting on

♡ hearing those words, feeling your warm lips on his icy chapped ones;;;; he pinched his wrist under the assumption he was dreaming

♡ "this can't be real, if it is... she has to be deceiving me... nobody could ever..." poor andrew didn't know he was speaking out loud

♡ you hushed him and pulled him close to you, so close he could feel the heat radiating off your body, and planted a kiss on the crown of his head. "andrew... please don't say that. it's okay if you don't feel the same, but... i want to be yours,"

♡ he stiffened up in your arms and nodded profusely

♡ he was tongue tied, especially when it came to the word love. he's never loved or been loved before this

♡ love was a scary word for him but his nodding told you that he felt the same way, he was happy, he was warm, he wanted more kisses, he wanted you, he loved you

♡ the two of you laid there while you rubbed his back and whispered words of endearment into his ear, he was completely relaxed for the first time in his life

♡ luca and victor passed by you two and victor promptly slipped a coin into luca's pocket

♡ "told ya they were gonna get together eventually," luca snickered before whistling at you two, mortifying you in the process

♡ your relationship is the softest thing ever

♡ andrew loves to hear about the future

♡ even if he's completely lost when you describe video games to him, he cherishes being able to hear you speak about what you're passionate about

♡ plenty of nights he falls asleep to you reading aloud to him, andrew loves to snuggle up to you and nod off to a bedtime story told by his love

♡ he's a very attentive lover, always picking up on what you like and what you don't

♡ dating is a brand new concept to him so there's lots of explanations you have to give, it's all worth it though. andrew is like a puppy around you, he's sooo so so happy and in love

♡ he sometimes feels insecure about holding your hand, especially in the winter, due to how cold he is but you told him he made you feel so warm inside that it cancelled out

♡ that's how you make andrew so flustered he has to hide his face in his hands 101

♡ he's ripped from digging graves all day long and can give you piggyback rides

♡ you beg him to run around with you in his arms but he always refuses, he doesn't wanna drop you

♡ doesn't matter, getting picked up by him and hearing both of you laugh in sync while your legs wiggle in the air is the best part anyways

♡ speaking of his laugh

♡ he'll laugh at whatever joke you tell him, whether he understands it or not

♡ he loves you call you angel, sweetheart, honey, dear... especially like, my dear sweet wonderful y/n the light of my life my angel from above - he thinks the more petnames he stacks, the more love he conveys for you. it gets ridiculous at times

♡ you two never fight and can agree on pretty much everything

♡ the second somebody in the manor makes a joke about you two getting married, he seriously considers it and goes searching for rings

♡ he wants to be with you for the rest of his life 🥺

NSFW ;;

♡ if you thought andrew was inexperienced in relationships, just wait till you want to take things to the next level with him

♡ i feel like he'd know what sex is but only because he was told not to do it before marriage and he knows that it makes babies, he has no idea people do it out of love

♡ he's so affection starved that he gets horny when you do the smallest things

♡ he'd never dare to speak on it though

♡ your clothes dip to reveal your chest or ass and he feels something down there, but he doesn't know what to do about it and feels humiliated

♡ he thinks he's being cursed, he's been too lucky and too happy for far too long

♡ the final straw is when he accidentally opens the door while you're getting changed and he catches a glimpse of your naked body

♡ he's reduced to a trembling mess who can't do anything but palm himself through his cassock

♡ that's when you have to explain to him that he's just horny and there's nothing wrong with sex, even if you aren't married

♡ you emphasize that you'd love to do it with him and you've wanted to for a long time

♡ he trusts you but he's so embarrassed he doesn't know where to start

♡ you start off by slowly undressing him and running your hands all over his body, kissing every scar and praising him endlessly

♡ he's shaking and dripping so much precum with every word of endearment, he's waited so long for this to happen

♡ you sit in his lap and stare into his eyes and he cums before you even get to his lower half

♡ he can't sit up straight and clings to you for support, he's never had any sort of sexual action before and this poor guy is way too sensitive

♡ showing his body to you was scary but with the way you tenderly kissed him and drew circles on his skin with nothing but pure adoration, he realized maybe he wasn't so ugly after all

♡ your first time with him lasts hours and he proposes to you seconds after pulling out because he wants to do that with you everyday from now on without feeling guilty

♡ nobody thought he would have such a high sex drive but he's like a rabbit, he always wants to touch you and make you feel good

♡ he can't initiate things but you can tell by the way he squirms and eyes you when you walk in the room that he's about to explode

♡ those years of isolation did something to him

♡ his favourite activity is when you give him handjobs because he's scared of hurting you somehow, paradise for him is sitting in bed together while you pump his cock and kiss him gently

♡ his hands and fingers are HUGE and super calloused so the friction feels like heaven when he gets the guts to touch you

♡ not to mention his dick is like the eiffel tower, he needs to learn how to use it bcos it is biiig

♡ he's so addicted to the noises and faces you make when you cum, you truly are an angel to him

♡ he loves to go slow and savour every moment, but right before he cums his carnal side comes out and he's like an animal

♡ he goes from soft cries to straight up growling

♡ something unexpected he loves is bath sex

♡ the two of you covered in bubbles in a warm bath getting each other off makes him so happy, especially when you're back from a particularly gruesome match

♡ he'll be extra soft if you have any injuries

♡ andrew is willing to try anything that you want, even if he thinks he won't like it, he wants to make his darling happy

♡ he doesn't like when you bury your face in a pillow or try to hide from him, he wants to see your body in all its glory and worship it like you do his

♡ his moans can get so loud that your neighbours victor and luca have to smack the wall to tell you to quiet down in there

♡ which is pretty unfair since they aren't any quieter either :/

[chaoscausesproblems]

Accidents

CW for injury

(A/N: This was meant to be out before Christmas but something came up so it's for now. The request and OC (Ruby) belong to @princessofthornsandroses)

“Crowley, darling, do be careful,” Aziraphale said as he watched Crowley try to use the ice on the sidewalk to “skate”. 

“I’ll be fine, Angel. Now watch this.” As soon as he said it, Crowley went sliding down the London sidewalk. He let out a laugh just before the very thing Aziraphale had worried would happen happened. Crowley had fallen on the ice. Aziraphale rushed over to him to see if he was okay.

“Angel... I think… I think I see a bright light,” Crowley whispered, lifting a hand to the sky dramatically. Aziraphale rolled his eyes as he tried to help Crowley up, but it failed when Crowley pulled back as he winced in pain.

“It’s not funny, Crowley. Now come on, we have to go,” Aziraphale said as he reached a hand out to help Crowly.

“No, I’m serious, Angel. I can’t move.”

“Oh, dear. I’m not gonna be able to carry you.”

“Well can’t you just miracle us out of here?”

“Do the two of you need help?,” a soft voice asked from behind Aziraphale.

 “Oh yes, we do,” Aziraphale said as he turned around to see who had offered help. He seemed completely awestruck as he took in the appearance of whoever had offered help to him. She seemed angelic to him, ironic considering he himself was an actual angel. What Aziraphale didn’t notice was that Crowley had the same expression on his face. They both took in her appearance or at least what they could see from the poorly lit sidewalk. She had a bob cut that seemed to frame her face very nicely and something about her just seemed so warm and welcoming, maybe it was her smile that made the angel and demon feel like the London streets weren’t quite so dark this night or perhaps it was just something else about her that the two just couldn’t put their finger on. Either way, the two had been too distracted to hear what the woman had said.

“Hello?”, she said as she gently waved her hand in front of herself. The two snapped out of their trance and mumbled quick apologies to which she just chuckled and waved it off. “My name is Ruby. Do you two want to come back to my flat? You,” she gestured to Crowley, “don’t seem to be in any condition to be walking or moving for that matter. There’s also a big storm that’s supposed to be coming in and I’d hate for you two to be caught in it.”

“We would love to, thank you for the offer. Do you mind giving me a hand? I can’t move him on my own and he can’t walk,” Aziraphale asked, kneeling down to Crowley. Ruby simply nodded as she took Crowley's other arm and gestured to the open door a short distance away from them, much to the appreciation of Crowley and Aziraphale. 

Once they settled Crowley down, the two could fully take in Ruby’s apartment. It was fully decorated for Christmas and even had mistletoe hanging in the doorway to what looked to be the kitchen. 

“Would the two of you like something to drink? I was about to put the kettle on before I saw you fall out there,” Ruby said. Aziraphale looked towards Crowley, who simply shrugged.

“We would love some tea, thank you,” Aziraphale replied. Ruby nodded before making her way into the kitchen. Crowley was quick to grab Aziraphale’s arm after Ruby had left the room.

“Angel, remember that talk we had a while back?” Of course Aziraphale did. The two had discussed the possibility of bringing another person into their relationship. They decided they didn’t want to actively look for somebody, but if somebody happened to pique both of their interest, they weren’t opposed to the idea.

“You think she’s the one?”

“Maybe. We won’t know until we try, so I’m willing if you are.”

“Yes, I think I am.”

“Well then, Angel, go work your charm.” With that Crowley gave Aziraphale a gentle push towards the kitchen doorway. Aziraphale laughed as he stood up to walk towards the kitchen as a kettle whistled.

~~~~~ 

Ruby didn’t know what to think of the two men in her flat. Well, that’s not true, she did know what she thought of them. She believed them to be so very charming in their own ways. The one introduced to her as Crowley had been so outwardly affectionate towards her, throwing overused pick-up lines, but not in a creepy way. Ruby had found it quite endearing. The one she was introduced to as Aziraphale was very sweet and had complimented Ruby’s flat the second they walked in and had seemed to genuinely enjoy her decorum. 

Ruby didn’t understand how she could like both of them at once, nothing like this had ever happened to her before. On top of that, she was pretty sure they were dating each other. The kettle’s whistling brought her out of her thoughts. She turned the kettle off and absentmindedly went to the living room to see what the two wanted in their tea.

She was too caught up in her thoughts to see Aziraphale, who she, by fault, had walked almost right into had he not put his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him to begin apologizing when her face went red. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow before following her gaze that had gone to the ceiling. No, not the ceiling. They were in the doorway which, consequently, put them under the mistletoe Ruby had strung up. 

“Well, then. I do believe there is a tradition that comes with this. That is if you’re willing?”, Aziraphale said, meeting Ruby’s eye. Ruby looked over at Crowley, almost as if asking for permission. Crowley nodded and gave a thumbs up. It may have been a bit amusing, had Ruby not been so nervous. She took a deep breath before looking back at Aziraphale. He was still waiting for her response, so she simply nodded.

Ruby hadn’t even processed when it had happened. She hadn’t even processed when she had started kissing him back, but she knew it had felt like a dream. It still felt like a dream. She was still in a state of bliss when Aziraphale pulled away from her. He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her towards the sofa Crowley was currently sitting on, telling her they needed to talk to her about something.

“We wanted to know if you would be interested in joining our relationship. You’re clearly interested in Aziraphale, but we’re only interested if you’re willing to date both of us,” Crowley said as Ruby’s eyes widened.

“Yes! I would love to,” she said, grinning. “Would, um… Would you two be interested in staying for Christmas, perhaps?”

“Of course we would,” Aziraphale replied.

[baby-bearie]

take me home

(not my gif)

jj maybank x reader, rafe cameron x reader

taglist: @sunflowermotel @howdyherron @drew-starkey @maraseavey @outerbanqs @tinylatina01 @obx-direction-sos @yelyahryan @loveylangdon @obxwriterfan @avashroom @rewindlr @raekenliar @ceruleanjj @dolanfivsosxox @heyhargrove @lashtonandmalumsbaby @beautyandthebleh @pancahke @outrbank @kiarasflowr @corleigh @poguemacking @kristineee-obx @shawnssongs @thorsangel @daniel9seavey9 @hopefultrashforanythingreally @pixelated-pogues @dpaccione @thatshiscigar @hesscott @damonsalvawhore @fanficscuziranout @trustfundparker @teamnick @becca-harlow @trashmouthpogues @rudys-pankow @ilovejjmaybank @tomzfrog @arthriticcrickets @midnightmagicmusings @outerbankslove @justawilddreamerchild @jjandreidsgirl @apoguecalledjj @lilmoviehoe @bellaguarneri @harrys-creature @nivky0-0 @ijustreallylovethem

a/n: well well well i’m trying a short series for the first time! it’s a fake dating trope, because i just read the to all the boys i’ve loved before series and now i’m a sucker for fake dating. i don’t think there’ll be too many parts, i’ll fit plenty into each chapter. i really hope you like these. 

Rafe Cameron loves to get on your nerves. He’ll watch you squirm as he hits on you everytime you swing by the Cameron residence, and he has admitted to your face that he enjoys it. You don’t see the appeal. You do, however, see the appeal in smacking his creepy sneer off his face. 

But you’re almost 100% sure that would turn him on. 

It doesn’t help that you’ve known Rafe since before you were potty trained, and it sure as hell isn’t helping that the boy who shamelessly attempts to touch you whenever you’re near him is nothing like the boy who used to pick flowers for you and sit with you while you braided them into flower crowns. It doesn’t help that you loved him first. Long before he changed, morphed into a boy you would give anything to be far, far away from. You can’t be near him, it makes your heart break all over again.

All over again, you experience the pain of when he stopped smiling at you in the hallways in the beginning of freshman year. All of the pain of that midnight call from Sarah, telling you she found Rafe unconscious on the bathroom floor with the coke still on his nose, and she didn’t know what to do. All of that pain, every time you have to see a boy you thought you once knew. 

Rafe always had it the worst. Out of all the kooks in your little group: you, Rafe, Kie, Sarah and occasionally Topper, Rafe had always had it the worst. 

Finances were never one of your problems, but when you live on Figure 8, you find there’s a lot more to be worried about than cocktail parties and marble foyers. The dream image that families like the Cameron’s or the Thornton’s have up of the perfect, kook family is just that.

A dream. Part of the Cameron’s intimidation and rule over this side of the island comes from the twisted stories ladies in stilettos will whisper about at parties. 

Girls like you and Sarah, boys like Topper, they do alright. They hold up under scrutinization, under haughty, judging stares. People like Rafe crack. 

People that were like Rafe crack. They break, and the shards of who they used to be reassemble into something new. People that were like Rafe turn into who he is now. 

Rafe Cameron loves watching you squirm. That’s what he’s doing today, whistling at you as you lift a hand to block out the sun, hiking across the lawn to where Sarah is lounging. 

“Looking good, Y/l/n!” He cups his hands around his mouth. You flip him off in response, almost as if it’s second nature. He salutes you back. 

“Sarah!” You call out, trying not to trip over floppy $70 sandals as you stand over her chaise, casting a shadow over her. 

“Bitch, move, you’re blocking the sun.” She swatted a hand at you. 

“I have a proposition.” You settled your hands on your hips, sticking your elbows out. Sarah groaned, lifting her sunglasses up into her hair and propping herself up on her elbows. 

“Nothing good has ever happened any time you started with that line.” “It gets you to listen, doesn’t it?” You sat near her legs. She sighed. 

“Okay, shoot.” “Yes, okay, so there’s this party tonight, and I really, really need someone to go with me.” You began hesitantly. 

“That’s all? Yeah, I’m free tonight- “That’s not all.” You winced. “It’s not exactly, like, a kook party?” 

Sarah frowned. “What does that mean?” “I guess you could say it’s kind of the opposite of a kook party.” 

Her eyes widened. “It’s a pogue party? You want us to go to a pogue party?” “Not all of us! Just me and you! The boys will never find out.” “Why do you want to go so bad, anyways?” 

“I was,” you paused, searching for the right word, “invited.” “Invited?” “I promised someone I’d be there. And I also promised you’d be with me.” You boop her nose. 

Sarah sat up fully, swinging her legs over the chaise so she was sitting next to you. 

“I’ll go with you,” she flicks you when you cheer, “but I have a few conditions.” 

You nod dutifully. “Yes. Anything. I accept.” “Okay, first, Rafe and Topper, and subsequently Kelce, will never hear about this. Topper will die of shame, and I think Rafe will disown me.” “I don’t think you can disown your sibling.” “Well, then, he’ll be super disappointed. In both of us. He likes you more than he likes me.” “I’d be glad to get your brother to like me a little bit less. Maybe I could walk in your house without being catcalled. Sorry. No offense.” 

“None taken. I don’t like him either.” Sarah shoves your shoulder with hers. “Do you promise?” She sticks out a thumb towards you.

It’s a tradition you’ve kept since you were in the 6th grade, when Rafe decided the pinky promises you made were too childish for middle school and rallied the boys into teasing anyone who made them. Thumby promises were your escape. 

You hold up your thumb but hesitate to link it with hers, pulling it back at the last second. “Here’s the thing, I won’t tell anyone anything, but I can’t promise someone at the party won’t tell them. Also, what if they just show up? They go to these all the time.”  

Sarah shrugs. “Well, if they show up, then they can’t really be mad at us for being there. Okay, just promise you won’t tell them.” She shakes her thumb at you again, and this time you hook yours into it. 

“Promise. What are your other conditions?” “Right, the second is I get to borrow your pink bikini next time we go to the beach.” “Done.” “And lastly, you have to tell me who you promised.”

“What?” You blink at her. “You said you promised someone that we would be there. Who? Was it that one boy? The Maybank boy? Oh, what did we call him?” She scrunches her eyes shut to remember before she snaps. “Goldilocks!” 

Your cheeks flush red at her insinuation. Sarah might be the only person who knows about your 9th grade five-month-long obsession with JJ Maybank, sparked by your first kiss in a custodial closet. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you had loved him, but it was an intense crush. Sarah had dubbed him Goldilocks after his phase of weirdly long hair. It ended abruptly, you just forgot all about him. You don’t remember what made you forget. 

“No, no, of course not. Ew, Sarah.” You shook your head. “It was Kiara.” 

Sarah’s eyes furrowed. “Kiara? Why would she want us around?” 

“I guess she wants to make amends?” “Okay, maybe with you, but I can guarantee Kiara wasn’t asking you to bring me.” “Maybe so. But someone there was asking for you.” “No, Y/n, no, I’m still with Topper.” “Oh, come on! It’s so obvious you both have a thing for each other. He was asking if you’d come, what was I supposed to say?” “No!”

“Okay, well, you already promised that you’d come, and I met all of your conditions so you don’t really have a choice.” You tipped your head at Sarah. 

“Fuck you.” She muttered. “Alright, fine. I’ll pick you up at 10.” 

“Yes! Okay, bye, I’ll see you tonight!” You grabbed her before she could swat you away and kissed her cheek goodbye. You patted her cheek and rushed off. 

“What, no bye-bye kiss for me?” Rafe called to you. “Fuck off, Rafe.” 

When Sarah came, 30 minutes later than she was supposed to, you were waiting on the steps of your house. 

“Finally!” You yanked the car door open and crashed in the passenger seat. 

“Sorry!” She pulled out of the driveway. “Rafe was interrogating me while I was trying to leave.” 

“Just floor it, Kiara won’t stop texting me.” “Nothing interesting ever happens at a party before 11, anyways.” 

Sarah was wrong. 

The second you pull up to the kegger, the crowd surrounding Rafe is already very obvious. Sarah grabs your hand, hustling you to the front of the crowd. He’s tossing around in the sand, trying to pin down JJ Maybank. 

“How did he get here before us?” “Because you were half an hour late!” You can’t help but point out the obvious. 

“Just help me, okay?” Sarah times herself against their wrestling, charging forward to grab Rafe’s arm when he draws it back to deliver a blow to JJ. 

“Rafe, stop! Stop!” She shouts, and always right behind her, you put your palms on his chest and push him back. You look back at Kiara who is tugging away JJ, but he stumbles, startled. His jaw is clenched and as she pulls him, he glances at you.

In that one glance is a split second of recognition, shock and confusion, before the moment passes and he’s forgotten you again. Closely followed by a medley of angry shouts and shoving from his friends. “Fucking kooks.” He mutters. 

You turn back to Rafe, who is ready to explode on Sarah. “What the hell are you doing here?” “What the hell are you doing here, Rafe? At least we were invited!” 

You’ve heard this conversation at least a hundred times, and you know how it ends. Bored of it already, you wipe your red cheeks and leave them to argue. 

This night has gone to shit and you haven’t even talked to Kiara yet. You’ve collapsed on a log to watch the waves crash and pull back when he sits next to you.

“Y/n Y/l/n. Well, damn. It’s been a while.” “A while? Try 2 years.” 

JJ scoffs. “Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” 

That shuts you up.

You’ve questioned yourself for two years about JJ. It was a short-lived story, but one full of young love, peeking glances and shy conversations. It was sweet and careless, and you believe something in your brain is blocking out the reasons it ended. 

The reasons you ignored him in the hallway the same way Rafe ignored you. 

The one thing you can’t block out is the lingering feeling. The warm, fuzzy butterflies of those small smiles and stuttered sentences. You feel them again when anyone brings him up. You felt them when Sarah guessed that he invited you here. 

Maybe you wished he did. 

You feel them now as you look at him up close for the first time in forever. And they’re stronger. 

The butterflies are stronger than they used to be. 

And that is how you stop questioning yourself, that is how you know that some part of your heart will always belong to JJ Maybank. 

You press your lips together and stare at him for a second longer. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” He ends your moment of bliss earlier than you had hoped. 

“Like what?” “Like you don’t recognize me. Like you don’t know me.” 

You sniff. “JJ, I don’t think I do.” 

JJ kicks the sand under his feet.

“That’s bullshit. You know me.” “I knew you. I knew 14 year old you.” You correct him. 

“Have I really changed that much?” He laughs.

 “You have, you know?” He keeps going when you say nothing. “I had such a big fucking thing for you, god.”

“Yeah, it was mutual.” “I know!” He exclaims, excited, then tries again, softer. “I know.” 

“And then, you just ditched me.” He says abruptly. 

“That’s not what- “That’s exactly what happened!” He interrupts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. 

“You just cut me out of your life. What, did you outgrow a pogue? Only rich boys are good enough for the kook princess?” His tone gets more and more aggressive. 

“I’m telling you, that is not how it happened.” You insist. 

“Okay, you know what, okay,” JJ turns towards you, scratching his head. “So, if that’s not what happened, then what was it? Because it hurt, Y/n. It hurt so fucking bad.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “I don’t need an apology, I want to know what I did. Why did you stop wanting to be around me?”

The questions brings your racing mind to a full stop. You had been praying he wouldn’t ask. 

You don’t have an answer for him. 

“I don’t- I genuinely don’t know, JJ. It just stopped, okay?” “That’s more BS. Things just don’t end. I get it now. I get what happened. I get your reasons.” He begins nodding. 

JJ looks up then, and his face tightens, jaw clenching the same way it did after the fight. 

“And one of those reasons is walking this way.” 

You turn to see what he’s looking at, and Rafe Cameron is stumbling towards you two. You turn to ask JJ what that means, when Rafe grabs your shoulder and nearly flings you back around to look at him. You can smell the beer on his breath. 

“Y/n, what are you doing with this guy? I’ve been looking for you all night!” He grabs your wrist. “C’mon, we’re going.” He slurs, trying to drag you away. 

“Rafe, stop!” You pull back your wrist, stunning him for a second. “I’m not going with you. Tell Sarah I’ll get a ride with Kiara.” 

He tightens his grasp on you. “To what, spend more time with this asshole? Let’s go.” He growls. 

“Let go of me, I’m not coming with you!” You use your other hand to try and force Rafe’s grip off your wrist. “I’m sick of this, Rafe!” You finally push him off of you and he stumbles back, sobering up a little. 

“I’m so sick of this!” You stumble over your words. “You’re scaring me! Who the hell are you, Rafe? Who are you?” You pull the loose hair that the wind has blown over your face out of the way. “Don’t- don’t touch me. I’m not coming with you. Don’t touch me.” 

You can’t tell if Rafe is sober right now or not, but you pray he’s not. If he’s high, then maybe he’ll forget what you just said to him. If he’s high, maybe  the next time you have to see him, you won’t have to see the wounded look he gives you now. “Y/n,” he starts towards you, but he doesn’t reach for you. His eyes are sad when he speaks again. “I’m sorry.” 

He reaches for you now. “I’m sor-”She said don’t touch her.” 

JJ has steps in front of you as you scramble back, effectively blocking you from Rafe. 

“Get out of the way, Maybank.” “She said don’t touch her. She won’t be going with you, so you can leave now. Head on out, cowboy.” JJ gives him a fake smile, one you can hear in his voice. 

“This doesn’t concern you, pogue.” Rafe spits. 

“Go home, Rafe.” Your voice comes out strong. You try to move around JJ, but he uses his arm to keep you tucked behind him. 

“What, you’re protecting pogues now, Y/n? What is this, is he your boyfriend or something?” Rafe snickers. 

JJ glances back at you before he turns to Rafe and confidently says, “Yeah. I am.” 

Your eyes grow to the size of saucers, mimicking Rafe’s expression. 

“What the fuck?” Rafe mumbles. 

“Yeah, so why don’t you leave now. I’ll be taking Y/n home.” JJ’s voice is stone cold. 

“Y/n, is this true? Are you dating this fucker?” Rafe jabs a finger in JJ’s chest, staring him down but speaking to you. The hand JJ is using to keep you back moves up to pinch your side when you glance at him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s true.” 

Rafe laughs slowly, one of disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Y/l/n. You know what, you deserve each other.” He backs away slowly, then turns and storms out of sight. 

JJ turns around and his mouth opens and closes, but he says nothing. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I just wanted him to leave you alone without starting something, I’m- “It’s fine, Maybank.” You run a hand through your hair. 

“It’s fine, just. Just take me home.”