#...no wonder he had that panic attack :D *i* would probably have a panic attack

[obeymeluv]

In Your Defense [PT 3 - Ignihyde]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi?

AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

**Need to go to bed for work tomorrow so Diasomnia will be on my next day off. Can't stay up long enough to squeeze it in**

If there was one thing Idia hated, it was going out in public. He hated how the sun burned his eyes, all the bugs flying around, the way people looked at his hair, and almost had a heart attack at the idea that he'd have to talk to people.

Major bummer. 0/10, don't recommend.

But he'd suck it up and soldier on because the call of sweets was too tempting to resist. The trek to Sam's isn't the longest from Ignihyde but it's enough to make him pace himself.

Yeah, he's not really an outside person. Or a physical activity person outside of dancing to Premo or working on his projects.

He briefly wonders if Ortho put Sam up to this as he finds his second wind and ascends the hill. Who has a bomb sweets sale and DOESN'T ALLOW ONLINE PURCHASES?! WHY WERE THE DISCOUNTS IN-PERSON ONLY?

Idia breaths a sigh of relief and fixes his hoodie before mustering up his courage and opening the door. He's throwing himself into the proverbial lion's den, into an introvert's worst nightmare!

The noise and people are almost too much but he distracts himself with all the pink and red. Mercifully, the candy is spread out around the store so he doesn't have to stay in the sea of people. Idia doesn't discriminate when it comes to sweets; he gets soft cake rolls, pixie sticks, little donuts, a few chocolate bars, and a couple of limited edition dessert drinks. He's secretly glad Sam's regular stock didn't take a hit because of the holiday; his snack stash needs replenishing. Packs of ramen and little things of convenience bury his sweets stash but he's careful not to crush anything.

He can almost hear Ortho nagging him to get something green or slightly healthy. If he doesn't, Ortho will be mad at him for a week. It becomes a battle of wits between the Shroud brothers and Ortho is the king of juvenile inconveniences. Idia has learned the hard way; Ortho resets his alarms, throttles his wi-fi, messes with his lights, takes apart his tablet or takes it off charge in the middle of the night, and just about anything else he can think of.

Idia begrudgingly puts some green smoothies in his basket. Along with some pudding cups.

Satisfied with his raid, he waits in line. He's chanting to himself the whole time: just walk, don't make eye contact! Just walk, don't make eye contact! The line stalls enough for someone to bump into him and he panics, stumbling forward into the person in front of him. His hair flickers and flares a little in his panic.

People give him space and he babbles a quick apology. He pulls his hoodie up over his hair but it doesn't hide everything. It makes him feel safe, though. He relaxes a little.

Then, he hears it.

HOW MUCH DO YOU COST?!

Oof. MAXIMUM cringe. NO ONE on campus has a charisma stat high enough to make THAT work! Except Kingscholar and Schoenheit, maybe.

It gets worse when he realizes someone said that TO YOU.

OH NO! HE HAS COMPETITION!

The tactic looks like it failed, though, so he's comforted. You wouldn't go for something so cheap and cheesy! This guy looks like a D-level tank AT BEST. You're an SSR easy. D-levels and SSR's don't go together!

He's an SSR when it comes to stealth and technical skill so maybe one day you guys can link up or whatever. Your choice. The tips of his hair turn pink and he blows on the closest strand to mute the color.

The guy is doubling down. "You're rolling a one, pleb. A hard one." Idia whispers to himself.

"You say somethin', Shroud?" the guy turns to him.

FUCK, HE KNOWS HIS NAME?!

Idia's hair roars to life with surprise. He yanks the hoodie down before the fabric singes and crisps. His strands are wild, untamed, and yellow. His instinct is to stutter and deny it, to backtrack, but your eyes are just shy of pleading and it makes him swallow the word soup.

"I-I said you're rolling a hard one. Y-You're failing!" Idia doesn't know if he's going to faint first or if his legs will give out. His heart might go first.

The guy clearly doesn't get the reference. The brain is buffering and the lag is too great. He shakes his head with a sharp, toothy smile, unable to help himself. Dumb normie, Idia gives a breathy chuckle. Idia has that unfortunate condition where his face talks for him and it must've said some shit because the tank is now laser-focused on him.

You're over the counter before he can process anything, grabbing the guy by the back of his shirt and telling him to leave. The guy just jerks his shoulders and stays the course. Idia sees you get ripped over the counter and tumble to the floor. You recover decently and grab the closest thing to you but something about the sound of your body hitting the floor sends him into a rage he'd only felt in online arguments.

It feels like his veins are burning. He can tell by the size of his shadow and the light dancing across the floor that his hair is long and ferociously orange. Raging orange. Lethal orange.

"Caution," Idia manages somehow through his rage. "C-Contents are hot." he knows he has to stay put. If he approaches the guy he will LITERALLY catch on fire. It's not a bad idea, and he can see the gears spinning in the guy's head. He's wondering if Idia's going to do it or if he has enough time to hit the door.

The guy chooses the door.

It takes several minutes for Idia to calm down. His hair seems to shrink as he deflates into his usual quiet mannerisms. It's shorter than normal! "Used up all my fuel," Idia complains as he drags himself to the counter. "Need calories." he melts pitifully into the counter.

"You need to buy what you burned, too." Sam points to the singed chips and snacks. He already has a few packs that are beyond saving in his arms. Idia realizes the shop is basically empty now and finds the energy to blush. Pink cheeks look really cute against his blue hair!

"Does this mean I'm done for the day?"

"Yes." Sam looks at you. He's not mad or disappointed, but he means you're done. "I think you're a bit of a fire hazard." he teases.

You both blush.

None of this was in his decision tree! WHAT DOES HE DO?

"You, uh, you want to come by Ignihyde and, um, watch some stuff? You don't have to if you don't want to, of course. I just, you know, since it was my fault and all--"

"Is that a nat twenty in the wild? I think I have to now!" you joke.

"You get that?" Idia's mouth hangs open in surprise.

"It might have different names but I think it's the same thing in my world." you shrug. He's so down to discuss games from another dimension!

A nat twenty indeed!

----

Ortho was doing his best to fill the gaps with whatever Sam's shop had to offer. Idia's grocery order was a little delayed due to the Valentine's holiday so he needed something decent to tide him over. Determined to keep his brother from an early, sodium-induced death, Ortho took it upon himself to shop. He wasn't totally heartless, though, so he'd throw in a few bags of chips to make Idia feel better.

A lot of this chocolate was out of the question! The sugar was through the roof! Then again, Idia was hopelessly addicted to sweets. He's pretty sure his brother broke some kind of record for sugar tolerance.

Equipped with Vil's suggestions and the things he researched, Ortho started hunting for healthy foods. He filled the basket with smoothies, yogurts, dark chocolate, fruit, and protein bars. There should be enough texture and flavor variation there to make Idia happy. Well...relatively.

Ortho floated patiently in line, subtly recording the conversations around him for later playback. Organic human interaction was interesting and would help him improve his algorithms and processes.

It's not like it hurt anything! All of the conversations were innocent and--

WAS SOMEONE TRYING TO MAKE A MOVE ON HIS FRIEND? HIS BESTEST, MOST PRECIOUS FRIEND?! ONLY HIS BIG BROTHER CAN DO THAT!

You may not totally get that he's a techno-organic construct (and not a boy who just really loves pretending to be a robot) but HE GETS that YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE AND THAT'S NOT OKAY!

"Excuse me, pardon me," Ortho weaves carefully through the people, playing a little 'wee-woo' alarm through his speaker system.

He floats beside the guy, staring at him with those big gold eyes. Pinching his thumb and pointer finger together turns up the alarm.

The guy is ignoring the alarms! How ridiculous! Is this what Idia means by natural selection and survival of the fittest?

A red light pops out of his shoulder, spinning in place.

HE'S IGNORING THAT, TOO?!

"You're being interrupted!" Ortho glares at him now, tuft of blue hair dancing angrily. "This conversation is clearly inappropriate for the setting and is henceforth terminated!"

"Terminated? Big words for a little boy! Go away, big people are talking!" the guy tries to shoo him away.

"Don't be rude to him!" you snap, "And he's right! The conversation is terminated!"

"Terminated!" Ortho echoes, pumping his fist. "Terminated!" he repeats, laughing when some of the people in line begin to join in and chant 'terminated, terminated!'

The guy leaves without buying anything and Ortho is happy to take his place. He pays for the the snacks. "And here's a sticker for you for being so sweet!" you put a sticker on the back of his hand. It's a heart wearing sunglasses.

Ortho laughs despite himself. One day he'll get Idia to explain it to you in a way you understand. He's surprised nothing like him exists in your world but he's glad to be here with you in Twisted Wonderland.

[iristial]

The childlike penmanship and utter abundance of hiragana and katakana that has its own implications aside, I was going to talk about how sweet and sad it was that the only kanji Shouma knows is "mother" (母). But then someone told me he also knows the kanji for "help [me]" (助)...that certainly adds to the context of Shouma's memories of his mother mainly being shrouded in fear

[gffa]

I need you all to understand how helplessly I'm laughing right now because life is so fucking weird sometimes. I've been having some nagging symptoms (I pretty thoroughly dismissed anemia, I eat too much red meat for that, and I was thinking it was more possibly a thyroid issue, since mom has thyroid issues, too) so I went in to the doctor today and we discussed some plans to figure it out, probably a hormone imbalance, etc., she'll know more when she gets my labs back. Cut to this afternoon, she's calling me and saying YOU ARE SEVERELY ANEMIC, YOUR HEMOGLOBIN IS DOWN TO 6.1, YOU NEED A TRANSFUSION AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. And I'm just sitting there in shock because I had so thoroughly dismissed anemia, since a few symptoms aren't quite on target and seriously I eat some type of red meat literally every single day, and then I just had to laugh because oh my god this is exactly what my dad was going through at the end. And when they first found out, his was at 5.9 and they told him GO TO THE ER RIGHT NOW for it, so for me to be at 6.1 has left me feeling !?!?!?!?! because it's just. When my dad died it was like, well, okay, at least those ongoing medical issues won't be a constant thing anymore, we will not have to see that fucking ER for a long time now, and THE NEXT NIGHT I had a panic attack at 2am and had to go back to the fucking ER. And now, a year and a half later, hey, guess what issue I'M having now, too?? :D In fairness, he had a bleed somewhere, I just have super, super heavy periods and it's been a long slow slide over years, he would dip down every month. But just the sheer fucking coincidence of it has left me feeling both, well, at least I know what's wrong now, but also I HAD SO THOROUGHLY DISMISSED IT/THOUGHT I WOULD HAVE TAKEN CARE OF IT, but NOPE going for a transfusion tomorrow, I hope dad's out there somewhere and got as much of a laugh out of it as I did. I truly am my father's daughter! (Also, no wonder I have not had the energy for much of anything lately, I just thought I was burned out on fandom/busy with IRL stuff, but hope. Severe anemia. All right then. 😂) (p.s. be proud of me, I asked for anxiety medication for the first time in my life, despite being anxious literally as long as I can remember, I should start them as soon as the pharmacy fills the order. ANXIETY IS SUCH A BUTT, I SWEAR.)

[benispunk]

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 5: We Stay Silent

All jokes aside, Wade had too much stuff to deal with. Keeping up his mask was way too hard.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, panic attack, mental health issues.

A/N: chapter five is up!!! this one is directly connected to the previous chapter, it's basically the same chapter but from wade's pov, so please make sure you read Part 4 before reading this one!! Please don't be made at me I love wade so much😔✊

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Previous Part / Next Part

Wade woke up later than usual, sunlight already creeping through the blinds. His phone buzzed on the nightstand with a few missed notifications, but he didn’t bother checking them right away. He stretched lazily, rubbing his face. The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet. Logan and Y/N had already left for work, probably hours ago. Good. He didn't think he was in the mood for any morning chit-chat for once.

After throwing on his running gear and grabbing a water bottle, Wade slipped out of the apartment and into the cool morning air. He’d hit his usual route— nothing too long today. He wasn’t up for pushing himself too hard.

He never liked running. He always wondered what part of running was actually satisfying for some people. It helped him clear his mind, gave him space to think, or better yet, not think at all. Maybe he had a toxic relationship with running. Maybe it worked like a drug on him. But he knew he would rather run until his legs give out rather than go down the same path he followed years ago. He knew better now.

The streets were familiar, and Wade let his feet carry him through the neighborhood without much thought. His mind wandered, as it often did, from jokes he was working on to what gig he had next to the weird thing Logan had said last night. Everything felt scattered, but that was normal. He was used to living with his thoughts bouncing around like a pinball machine. His mind felt like a computer with thousands of tabs opened.

But then, just as he rounded a corner near the park, Wade froze. Vanessa.

She was standing there, a few meters away, looking just like she used to—like a ghost from a past life. She hadn’t seen him yet, thank god. His heart slammed into his chest, panic rising as he quickly debated turning around and bolting. Too late.

“Wade?”

Her voice caught him mid-step. He turned, awkwardly waving like an idiot.

“Vanessa, hey!” Wade’s voice came out higher than he wanted, and the grin he plastered on his face felt all wrong.

Vanessa smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, looking genuinely happy to see him. “I knew that was you. How’ve you been?”

Wade’s brain scrambled for something, anything to say. How have I been? That was a fucking big question. How do you explain six years of missing someone without falling apart? He ran a hand through his hair, nervously glancing at his shoes.

“Oh, you know… same old, same old.” He tried to laugh it off, but his voice cracked.

She didn’t seem to notice his internal chaos. “It’s been so long, huh? We should catch up sometime, what do you think?”

He wanted to run. Run so fast he could break his legs and never even feel it. Catch up? What does that even mean? How do you catch up with someone you’ve been in love with since forever even after you both decided that being friends would be better, and bla bla bla, why was he thinking about this again?

He did his best at hiding his internal panic and forced himself to stay still, nodding like an idiot.

“Yeah, totally! That would be great.” He was still smiling like a maniac, but inside, every alarm bell was going off. Abort. Abort. Abort.

Vanessa seemed pleased with that answer, though. “Great! I’ll text you.”

“Yeah! See ya around, V,” Wade blurted before turning on his heel and jogging away as fast as he could without looking completely insane. He could feel her eyes on him as he sprinted, and he didn’t stop until he was several blocks away, breathing hard.

“Good job, Wade. You fuckin’ idiot,” he muttered to himself, wiping sweat from his forehead. His chest felt tight, but it wasn’t from the run. It was that familiar pressure building inside him, the one he tried so hard to ignore. The feeling of not being able to handle any of it.

———

Wade stood outside Blind Al’s door, debating whether to knock or not. He hadn’t seen her in a while, but she had been a constant in his life during the toughest times. Before Logan. Before everything fell apart.

He knocked, and her voice came through the door, as sharp as ever. “Took you long enough to visit, jackass.”

Wade smiled despite himself, pushing the door open. “Miss me, Al?”

“Not in the slightest,” she quipped. Wade knew she couldn’t see, but the way she was standing in front of him made it look like she was staring right through him, “Something’s going on with you. Spill it.”

Wade plopped down on her couch, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Ran into Vanessa.”

Blind Al didn’t react. She just sat back in her chair. “That so? And you didn’t completely lose your shit?”

Wade snorted. “Define ‘completely.’ I told her we’d catch up, and then I ran away like a coward. Does that count?”

“Yeah, that counts,” Al said, her voice gruff but understanding. “So what now?”

“I don’t know.” Wade rubbed his temples. “She seemed happy, like genuinely happy to see me, and I just… I don’t know what to do with that.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Al said bluntly. “She’s part of your past, and that’s fine. Doesn’t mean you have to dive back into that mess.”

“Yeah, but what if…” Wade trailed off, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking.

“Look, you’ve got your life now. You’ve got Logan, and now this new girl, Y/N, right? Stick to what’s real. Don’t go chasing ghosts.” Al’s voice softened slightly, and Wade felt a pang of gratitude for her, "Or go for it. Just, don’t think about it too much. Let things go their own way." she added.

Easier said than done, but duly noted.

Suddenly, she got up from her chair and walked towards her kitchen. Wade watched her come back with a cup of not-at-all full of alcohol coffee and settle back in her chair.

"So, you didn’t tell me about that new roommate…"

He stayed with her for lunch and then they talked all afternoon. He told her everything she had to know about Y/N, and how Logan was doing, too. But still, he couldn’t shake the thought of what had happened that morning. Vanessa. Al was always right, but the pressure in his chest still hadn’t gone away. It wasn’t just Vanessa. It was everything. 

———

By the time Wade got back to the apartment building, the weight in his chest had doubled. He made a turn into an alleyway, the walls suddenly feeling too close. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his hands started to shake.

No no no no no, not now. Not here.

He pressed himself into the corner, knees pulling up to his chest as he tried to get control, but it wasn’t working. He felt like he was drowning, like the air was being sucked out of the alley. Everything was overwhelming.

Breathe, Wade. Just fucking breathe.

He fumbled for his phone and dialed his therapist’s number. He knew she had given him her personal phone number just for emergencies but maybe, maybe this time, it was an emergency. He needed it. Because breathing wasn’t working. After a few agonizing rings, she picked up.

“Wade? What’s going on?”

He could barely get the words out, his voice shaking. “I…I c—can’t »

“Okay, okay,” she said calmly. “You’re going to be fine. You know the drill. Slow your breathing.”

Wade tried, focusing on her voice. After what felt like hours, his breathing steadied, but the tightness in his chest remained.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked and Wade had no idea what to answer. Air was back in his lungs, yes. But that was it.

"I’m losing it. I don’t know what to do." He waited a few seconds for his therapist to answer. When she didn’t, he continued. "I’m lost. I can’t make a choice. I feel like a fuckin’ loser and I don’t know why people are still keeping up with me. And I called you, god, I’m so sorry, I know it’s supposed to be for emergencies only—"

She interrupted him, "Wade, this was an emergency."

Wade shook his head and he watched his free hand for a few seconds, it was shaking like crazy. He didn’t say anything for a while. "Can we have a session soon?"

“Of course, Wade. Can you get to someone, right now? A friend?”

“Logan,” Wade muttered. “I could go see Logan.”

“Good. Do that. You’ve got people, Wade. Lean on them.”

Wade nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah… yeah, I’ll go see Logan.”

He hung up and dragged himself to his feet, wiping at his face. Get it together, Wade.

———

Logan’s classroom was quiet when Wade arrived, a rare moment of calm at the end of a long day. The coffee shop near the center was still open, so Wade grabbed a box of donuts and two coffees before heading over. Showing up unannounced wasn’t unusual for him—Logan never seemed to mind (he did– Wade chose to ignore it). Besides, the guy could use a donut break anyway.

But as Wade neared the door, that familiar tightness crept back into his chest. Logan’s gonna see right through me. He paused, forcing down the rising anxiety, plastering on his usual grin before pushing the door open.

“Hey, I come bearing gifts. You looked like you could use a sugar rush.”

Logan frowned as soon as he saw him. “You okay?”

I hate him so much.

Wade waved him off, doing his best to sound casual. “Me? Of course! I’m always okay. What’re you talking about?”

Logan didn’t press further, but Wade could feel his friend's eyes lingering on him, studying him like he could sense the tension beneath the surface. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Logan to ask again or not. Wade kept talking, cracking jokes, doing his usual routine, but something in Logan’s steady silence made it harder to maintain.

They sat together, sipping coffee and biting into donuts, the atmosphere light but heavy at the same time. He knew Logan saw through him. He always did. But Logan didn’t push, and for that, Wade was grateful.

As they left the center together, Wade kept the conversation rolling, letting his words spill out faster than usual, a habit he’d sharpened over the years. Keep talking, keep things light, and maybe Logan wouldn’t dig deeper.

“...and I swear, man, if this one guy hadn’t backed off, I would’ve–”

“You sure you’re okay?” Logan’s voice cut through Wade’s ramble, and oh my god, was he using a gentle tone on me?

The question sent a jolt of panic through Wade. He felt the familiar tightening in his chest again, the pressure pushing against the cracks. Not now. Not here.

He immediately forced a laugh, one that felt too loud in his ears, like he wasn’t the one laughing . “Of course! Stop worrying about me, peanut. You’ve got your own crap to deal with. Speaking of which,” Wade added quickly, redirecting the conversation towards something he knew Logan wouldn’t press on, “how’s it going with Y/N, huh? Been hanging out together without me, yet?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but Wade didn’t miss the shift in his expression. He knew Logan had caught the distraction, knew the guy could read him like an open book. But Logan didn’t push, not yet.

“She’s our roommate, Wade,” Logan said.

Wade threw him a wink, keeping up the act. “Sure, sure. Got it.”

Logan let it slide, like Wade knew he would. He always did. Pushing Wade for answers never worked. Logan had learned that a long time ago. He’ll ask again later, Wade thought, the weight of it settling somewhere deep inside him. But for now, at least, Logan let it go.

Wade kept talking, kept deflecting, but even as his voice filled the air, he could feel Logan’s gaze on him, steady, waiting. Logan would be there when the time came, ready to listen. Wade knew that. He always knew that.

But right now? Wade wasn’t ready. Not yet. So he smiled, cracked another joke, and pushed the feeling down a little further.

Maybe later.

XXX

[justnatoka]

Crisis

Sinclair brothers x GN! Reader (Bo centric)

A/n: This is by no means an original idea, it has been done many times before, but I eat this shit up every time.

Word count: 2.8k

Warning: canon-typical violence, attempted sexual assault, Bo actually has feelings, reader has a panic attack

Summary: When a group of strangers unexpectedly show up in Ambrose in the middle of the night, it suddenly becomes your turn to fight for your lives – and each other.

Part 1/2

Next part

When you awoke, the first thing you registered was the darkness. Blinking slowly a few times, eyelids heavy from sleep, you took in the quiet living room around you. Shrouded in shadows, the only sound being the occasional soft creaks of the old house settling. It was still the middle of the night, probably many hours remaining until dawn. You sat up groggily, the motion causing a dull ache to spread in your neck. A groan left your lips, and you brought up a hand to try and massage the sore muscle as best as you could. You gave up quickly, making a mental note to ask Vinny for some help with it in the morning. You dragged your legs from the blanket with a tired huff, the wood floor pleasantly cool under you bare feet. It took your foggy brain a few moments to remember why exactly you thought it was a good idea to fall asleep on the couch.

Your argument with Bo started to come back to you in hazy pictures. He was already grumpy when he left for the auto shop this morning, and it seemed his mood only soured as the day progressed. When he arrived back in the evening he was in a particularly foul temper. It didn’t take long for him to start snapping at you and Vincent over every little thing. You talked back, some words were exchanged, and in typical Bo fashion he said some things in the heat of the moment that he otherwise wouldn’t have. That’s how you ended up on the couch, feeling too angry to go and sleep next to him.

It was a reoccurring routine: Bo taking his anger out on everyone around him, you getting frustrated with him in return and punishing him by sleeping in a separate room. Most of the time you found comfort in Vincent’s bed, and on rare occasions, when you were especially upset, you even trekked out to Lester’s little cabin in the woods to spend the night. Bo always found you the next morning, apologizing for being an ass.

Lester couldn’t believe his eyes when he first witnessed it. It was the morning after your first late night visit to his cabin. A knock came from the door, and there stood Bo, head hanging in shame, ears red from embarrassment as he said sorry. He didn’t let his big brother live it down for days, not until Bo threatened him with a whooping.

He had a hard time with it, admitting that he was wrong and saying sorry, just being emotionally vulnerable in general. It was something he had to learn, and you were extremely proud of him for reaching this point. It didn’t mean that you wouldn’t get upset with him when he did the same shit again.

You felt like a headache was coming on as you remembered the argument. You desperately needed a glass of cold water. Dragging your body from the couch, you slowly shuffled towards the kitchen, faintly wondering in the back of your mind about what might have woken you up at such an hour.

You were halfway there when you heard it. A buzzing sound broke the silence of the dark house. It was jarring, the noise cutting through the peaceful stillness, causing your heartrate to skip a beat. Looking back towards the living room, you noticed your phone on the coffee table, vibrating with an incoming call. No one knew that number, no one but the Sinclair brothers that is.

As your sluggish brain was trying to make sense of why one of them would call you in the middle of the night – especially since two of them were sleeping upstairs –, another sound came to your attention. Voices, multiple, just outside the front door.

“I’m telling you, this place is a fucking ghost town.”

“No way, you saw the look on that dude’s face. He clearly didn’t want us sniffing around. Bet he’s found some hidden treasure buried around here, and wants to keep it all to himself.”

“He should buy some soap from the money while he’s at it. Guy smelled like a wet possum.”

A round of crude laughter followed, your stomach churning at the sound. You were wide awake now, your brain working a mile a minute. They were talking about Lester, right? Is he okay? Did they do something to him? Why are they here? What do they want? The gravity of the situation started to sink in heavily. There was a group of unexpected visitors in Ambrose, in the middle of the night, with who knows what intentions. You barely had time to accept the reality when the handle started turning, and then the door was already open.

Five men stood in the doorway, illuminated from behind only by the moonlight as the lights were switched off all around town. You stared at them with wide eyes, body frozen in place, halfway to the kitchen, right in front of them. You could barely make out any feature on them, but as they shifted slightly, more of the pale natural light from outside streaming in, they had a pretty good view of you. They certainly saw enough, if the change in the air around them was anything to go by. You felt rather then saw their eyes raking down your body, suddenly feeling utterly exposed in your underwear and Vincent’s baggy T-shirt.

A low whistle broke your shocked stupor, and a chill ran down your spine.

“Talk about hidden treasure. If I had such a pretty little thing, I would want to keep them all to myself too. It would be a shame if someone broke them, ain’t it, boys?”

The implication sent terror through your body, breathes coming out in shallow gasps.

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart, we won’t hurt you. Much.”

The moment the first one of them stepped inside the door, your body suddenly unlocked from the frozen shock you were stuck in, and you bolted towards the kitchen. You heard their thudding footsteps behind you, your fingers almost reaching the handle of the knife drawer when you felt arms wrapping around your waist, hoisting you in the air. You kicked and clawed as they dragged you back into the living room, roughly dropping you onto the couch. You felt hands on you, all over you, grabbing your arms and legs, tugging at your clothes and your hair, and all the while that crude laughter echoed in your brain. Somewhere during the struggle to keep them away from you, you found your voice and let out a scream. It was a sound you’ve heard before, the scream of someone fighting for their life, but you never thought you were capable of making it. It was jarring to hear it ripple from your own throat.

A second later doors were ripped open above you, and heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs. You barely caught a glimpse of Bo, baseball bat in hand before he was on them, swinging at the head of the guy nearest him. It made impact with a sickening crack, and his body crumpled to the floor. Now the other four had their full attention on him. Angered by the attack on their friend, they descended upon Bo, and even though he put up a good fight, a particularly hard punch to the jaw sent him to the floor. They started kicking him, shouting obscenities at him.

It all happened so fast, you barely had time to register what you were doing before you were running towards them with a vase in hand. You picked it up without even thinking, and threw it at the head of a guy who just got hold of the baseball bat Bo had dropped and was getting ready to swing it down on him. He stumbled, but remained standing, small rivulets of blood now running down his face as he turned around and locked eyes with you. A cold dread settled in your stomach as he took a step towards you, bat still in hand, cussing up a storm about backward living freaks. He raised the bat high, his eyes full of murderous rage, and you thought this is it, he was going to bash your head in.

Just before he was about to swing down on you his body went rigid, eyes rolling back as he slumped to the floor, one of Vincent’s knives sticking out of the back of his head. You had no idea when he arrived, but he was already heading towards the guys still on Bo, knife in hand. The fight was already tilting in your favor, but then an ear-splitting shot rang out, and one of the remaining three dropped to the floor with a gaping hole in his chest. You spun your head around, seeing Lester in the front door that was left gaping open, looking disheveled and out of breath, as if he was running, shotgun in hand. Stunned by the sound of the gun going off in such a closed space, the other two intruders stood no chance, Bo and Vincent regaining their composure first and quickly ending them.

In the next few seconds, the only sound in the big silent house was heavy breathing, all of you in a daze from what just transpired. That was the moment your legs finally gave out and you sank to the floor. Your ears were ringing, and you quickly realized that the strange noise you were hearing was your own quick, shallow breathing. Adrenaline was still rushing through your veins, panic gripping your lungs, making it hard to suck oxygen into your body. You had no idea when the trembling started, fingers digging into your sides as you wrapped your arms around yourself, shaking violently. You let out a little shriek when you felt hands on you, fear still clouding your brain, screaming at you to get away from them. They quickly flinched away, and there was a slight commotion before someone spoke up.

“Ssh, sweet pea, you’re alrigh’. ‘S just me, it‘s Lester,” a gentle voice said right next to you. “You’re gonna be alrigh’, just breathe with me,” he persisted, and you heard as he took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, repeating the motion again and again. Following his instructions, you felt your breathing come back to a normal rhythm bit by bit, your head becoming clearer.

When you could finally get enough air into your lungs, you took in your surroundings. Lester was sitting next to you on the floor, his mouth quirking into a small smile as he saw you coming down from your panic. Vincent was kneeling on your other side, hands outreached toward you, his fingers twitching anxiously, wanting to comfort you but also not wanting to send you into another episode. When you gathered enough strength, you sneaked one of your hands towards him, and as he wrapped his fingers around it, enveloping it in his much bigger hand, he let out a deep sigh.

Your adrenaline slowly started to die down, and with it the reality of the situation and what else could have happened finally sat in. Your eyes were quickly filling with tears, and as the first sob broke up from your throat, you were enveloped by warmth. This time you didn’t flinch away as Vincent pulled you into his chest, shielding you from the grizzly sight of the bodies littered around the living room, and you cried into his chest, your sobs rattling your shaken form. You looked so small and broken in that moment, it gripped their hearts in a vice that they couldn’t shake.

Through the haze of your tears you faintly registered angry footsteps as Bo grabbed the guy with Vincent’s knife still sticking out of his head and started dragging his body out the door. A single shot rang out, startling you, but the two younger Sinclair brothers were quick to reassure you. Then Bo stomped back in, dropping Lester’s shotgun beside him on the floor.

“I-I tried to call yall, tried to warn ya,” Lester started shakily. “Buncha assholes got lost on the back roads. When I tried to turn them around they called me names and slashed my tires. Didn’t want them to catch ya by surprise, but I couldn’t stop ‘em.” His voice wavered as he turned back to you. “’M so sorry, sweet pea. ’M sorry I couldn’t reach ya sooner.”

When your cries quietened down to sniffles, you forced your throat to speak.

“It’s not your fault, Lester, you did everything you could,” you reassured him as best as you could, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple in appreciation, his hand rubbing soothing circles against the back of your head.

A scoff made you all turn your heads to Bo. He was standing over the remaining bodies, staring them down, his body wrung tight with tension, his fists shaking by his side. He was looking at them with such hatred that you’ve never seen on him before. If you were honest, he frightened you a bit.

“Bo?” you called hesitantly.

He whipped his head around, and you flinched at the intensity of his stare. Noticing your reaction, the muscles in his jaw tightened, but his gaze softened a tad bit. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, and it took you a few moments to realize what it was. Guilt.

Reading the room, Lester motioned with his head to Vincent. They grabbed the remaining bodies and dragged them out of the house. After they came back for a second round, they closed the front door behind them, setting to work disposing of them. It left you with just Bo, who refused to look at you now, the silence between you deafening and charged.

You stood on shaky legs and shuffled over to him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. He almost wrenched it from your grasp before he caught himself. With a heavy sigh he deflated in front of your eyes, all tension leaving his body. All that remained was the slight trembling of his hands. You sneaked your hand in his, folding your fingers together, and this finally made him look at you.

He looked so utterly broken, you almost broke down crying. You were sure of it now, the guilt written on his face clear as day. Yes, he has apologized to you before after arguments, and he was sincere, but you’ve never seen him like this.

You swallowed thickly before you said aloud the first and only thing that was on your mind.

“Bo, this is not your fault.”

His face twisted a bit, a sign that he was fighting with his emotions in his head.

“Look at you,” his voice strained as his eyes ran over the exposed skin of your body, red bruises and scratches marring your skin from your struggle earlier. “God, sweetheart, look at you,” he sighed, and his pain was palpable as he continued. “You should have been by my side. You should have been sleeping next to me.” He almost spit out his next words. “But because I was so fucking stupid and angry before, you were all alone down here. If you were next to me this wouldn’t have happened.”

His admission stunned you. Taking his face into your hands, you gently ran your fingers over his own bruises, the one along his jaw already showing signs of swelling. His eyes fluttered closed, and even though he was upset, he still leaned into your touch. He looked so much worse than you probably did, taking the brunt of the beating. He got these bruises while defending you, and he still kicked himself for not doing more.

You made him look into your eyes, and even though your voice was soft, the slight tremble in it made it obvious how emotional you were.

“You don’t know that,” you stated. “Even if I was with you, they still would have showed up, and we still would have had to deal with them. I could have gotten hurt either way. So there’s no point in blaming yourself. What’s done is done. So let’s focus on what to do next.”

You could tell he was still not convinced, but he decided not to argue with you. So you did the first thing that came to your mind: you opened your arms, inviting him into a hug. If it was any other time, he would have rolled his eyes, calling you needy, before accepting your affection. Now he just pulled you in, his arms around you rigid at first, but quickly melting into your embrace. You clung to him, just like he clung to you, both of you seeking stability and comfort in the other.

Outside the living room window Lester and Vincent shared a silent look before they finally got to work. They knew Bo would be back to his old self eventually, but maybe, just maybe, this was the push he needed to really let you in. As they were busy dealing with the consequences of the night’s events, all three brothers made a promise to themselves. A promise that something like tonight would never happen again.

[prose-for-hire]

High Stakes

Pairing: Spike x witch!reader (gn)

Request: I was wondering about maybe one where spike and reader are in a relationship like a really healthy one and he is completely in love them but the scooby gang ask them to do some really big draining spell because they are more powerful witch then willow and like reader starts to panic once leaving the magic box with spike and he is super concerned and like they start to have a panic attack and he immediately starts calming them down and looking after them and it’s just really fluffy and angsty.

Requested by: @witchb1tches

Warning: Reader has a panic attack. Crying. 

There was a storm brewing. The sky was dark but only you could feel it. You were at one with the elements. A powerful sorcerer who had unfathomable power. As you waled briskly through the streets, your hands laced with Spike’s, you tried to push down your anxieties and focus on the feeling of his hand in yours.

You and Spike had been together for years. He adored you with ever fibre of his being and you matched his love in every way. It was a love that others only dreamed of. You had met at a demon bar one evening and in attempting to impress you, Spike had picked a fight with half of the bar. When he got in trouble and they all tried to jump him at once, you stood up raised your hand, making the entire crowd slam into the back wall of the bar as if shoved by an invisible force.

Spike had just stared, mouth wide open as you winked and left him in the bar, saying your goodbyes. Although you didn’t agree with love at first sight, the ground started humming and the breeze that whistled through your ears on the way home telling you that you had met the one. You waited though, to see if he would make the first move. To test if it really was fate.

You had run into each other several times after that and after getting over the fact that you were friends with the Slayer, he built up the courage to ask you on an actual date. He had even brought flowers that looked suspiciously like they had been swiped from a nearby grave. He had been rather bashful and it had been incredibly endearing, you only understood later on why he was so nervous of rejection.

You had been laying in bed when you got the SOS message from Xander. Some big evil this or some creepy spell that. You knew you had to come as fast as you could and your vampire insisted he was only coming to try and score a nip of blood, but you knew him better than that.

“Don’t know why they think you’re at their every bleedin’ beck and call” Spike had been sulking the entire way there, his unlit cigarette bobbing from his mouth as he spoke. He mostly did it to see you smile, he was very fond of your smile. He did this, especially when he sensed that you were feeling tense about something.

“Spike, it’s the end of the world, we can’t just hold each other and wait for it to get us”

“If it was the end of the world, we’d be doin’ more than cuddlin’. That I can tell you, pet” he pointed at you, his cigarette between his fingers as a curl of smoke escaped his smirk. You rolled your eyes and pushed him playfully as you walked.

“I have power, it would be wrong not to do something to help”

“No, what’s wrong is callin’ up a vampire in the middle of the afternoon while he’s trying to sleep! Apocalypses are ten-to-the-bloody-dozen ‘round here, we could have finished our nap and still caught the next one, I wager”

“That may be true, but-” You started to defend your younger friends and Giles, but that was when you sensed it. The coming storm had distracted you but now you saw it. The Magic Box was ablaze, green fire licked the building and what looked like a tornado inside the store fanned the flames.

You ran straight into the fire, with Spike trying to pull you back. You shot him a meaningful look, your intentions sending your thoughts and reasons into his own head. He nodded, understanding, the fire was magically suspended, something (probably Willow and Tara) was working against the damage.

When you both arrived, Spike had a hand firmly on your waist, he knew that in this sort of fight, you were the one that was doing the protecting. He was man enough to admit that. But it didn’t stop him wanting to ensure that you were by his side. Safe from harm’s way.

The scene was pure chaos, and not in a nice, neat, easy-to-calm way. You had ceased many of those for your friends before. This one was different. An invisible tornado had whipped up around the store, the noise was so loud it was near impossible to hear yourself think. Anya was trying to hold down anything valuable from getting more broken while Giles and Willow were screaming incantations over the din.

“No bloody way” Spike muttered, taking you hand and trying to lead you out again. There was no sodding, buggering, bloody way that you two were getting involved in this one. The slayer and her little friends could fry for all he cared. Just so long as it didn’t involve you.

Buffy was trying to fight the air around her, with Xander on back up, as some force kept attacking the two that were trying to reduce the amount of fire that threatened to consume them.

That was when you saw it. In the centre of the room, the eye of the tornado.

“Th-that book…” You said softly. You knew that book, you could feel the ancient power rolling off it. Humans couldn’t touch that book unless they were powerful enough to withstand it’s hold on their souls.

And seemingly, Tara had touched it. She was suspended in the corner of the room, eyes black and her hair to match. She was a good witch, but not powerful enough to withstand something like that. You weren’t even sure that you were.

How had they found it? Why was it here?

No wonder the world was ending. One chapter, no one sentence even, from that book spoken aloud by someone that didn’t know what to do with it and the whole fabric of this dimension, and many others, would tear and scatter until it was no more.

That book was supposed to be suspended in a hell dimension and, you later found out, Willow had received it as a Birthday gift from an unnamed admirer.

“Y/n, we need to do this, now!” Buffy shouted over the noise. It was a lot worse than you had expected. Time was speeding up, lives were in danger and the whole thing seemed to be resting on you. You wavered, the others couldn’t see it over all the chaos. But he could. Your Spike. Your protector. He was the only thing that could ground you.

“Piss off, would you! You saw what happened to them last time” Spike stepped up to the Slayer menacingly, his leather duster whipping around him in the artificial wind. He cared about you, deeply, none of your friends could deny it. He was worried about you, doing so many spells for them he thought they took it for granted that you could just bounce back and be fine. He told them as much whilst simultaneously throwing a few punches at this invisible being that was trying to fight the room.

You were stood there, seemingly daydreaming as you stood still as the mayhem raged around you, just staring at the book.

“Y/n, the stakes are high, are you, ah, able to do this?” Giles asked, pausing from chanting as he realised that you were now using your own power to hold off the fire.

“We don’t use that word in our house, stakes that is. What with the whole burning at the stake bit” Spike cut in, throwing a punch and overbalancing when it didn’t connect with anything. He managed to style it out, rolling and landing back onto his feet.

“And the dusty vampire thing” You agreed distractedly, pressing your lips against his as he got up from the floor beside you.

“Yes, yes, well? Are you able to do it?” Giles was growing impatient with the man that was always so close by your side. Both Giles and you knew what you had to do. It was something that no other could do. If you didn’t do this, Buffy would never be able to get the upper hand. You may all perish in an instant.

“I can stop time, isolating it so that Buffy can still move will, uh, take a lot… But, luckily for you I am blessed with a lot of power” You insisted, feeling their resolves falter slightly. Buffy had never faced anything like this before. The Hellmouth opening was nothing compared to complete obliteration of dimensions.

The way your power works, you would be pushing against time whilst also pulling Buffy into the present with you. Shifting more than yourself was known to be near-impossible when stopping time. You had done it once before but it had taken a lot out of you.

Spike stayed stood by your side in all of this, only fending off anything that came towards you now. You nodded at him gently, he was always in awe of you, but more so every day.

It was a lot of pressure and the responsibility was crushing. But you persevered, Spike nodding by your side, giving his unending support without even having to say a word. You took a breath, closed your eyes and raised your arms, chanting rapidly.

You did it. When you opened your eyes time had stopped, your love frozen by your side. 

Buffy nodded at you, able to move as you held the very threads of time together. It was already taking a toll on your body. It was like you were hanging over the edge of the universe, grip so tight that your knuckles whitened, grimace on your face as you tried to stop everything from tipping into nothingness.

You stopped time long enough for Buffy to decloak the invisible force, the Slayer was already weakened from the earlier fight but managed to kill the demon that had emerged from the book. It bled profusely, spraying the floor with an orange goo.

“Don’t- not on the book!” You screamed, if any demon blood got on that book literally anything could happen. But none of it good.

With one final flourish, Buffy managed to slay the demon and take its weapon, a long staff that had been invisible until now that was needed to return Tara back to them.

While you were watching her, you were hurting, aching all over, you couldn’t hold it any longer. While Buffy finished, you had a spinning wheel of dimensions in your mind and you dropped the book into nearest Hell dimension, hoping it could hold it.

You dropped to the floor as the book disappeared, the wind stopped and everything went silent. Tara was back to herself after a ceremonial wave of the staff, now propped up in a corner by Willow as everyone else skidded towards them. A battered Buffy included.

“You okay?” Spike asked it quietly, as you got to your feet, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention from the group. You nodded once but he wasn’t convinced. He knew you inside out and he took your hand tenderly as he spoke.

“Yeah, I-” You started but the look he gave you told you that he knew. He could sense it. You weren’t doing okay.

“I, uh, I just need some air” You said, grappling with yourself to get out of the magic shop, your hand no longer clasping Spike’s. He was on your heels, throwing a glare behind him at your friends as he went.

The others called their thanks to you as you left, while Xander tended to Buffy’s battle wounds. Your friends all loved you but they didn’t understand certain things about you. You were known as being a little odd, you went missing for periods of time and you frequently shied away from praise or gratitude. But they were fond of you all the same.

You were overwhelmed. Drained and scared you hadn’t done the right thing. What if that book was summoned in another dimension and you could do nothing to stop it? What if you had killed thousands of others by only saving the dimension you lived in?What if it came back and a different chapter opened, one where you couldn’t fight it?

Once outside, the storm had started. The thunder cracked through the air as your heart hammered through your chest. Your chest writhed in pain, as if several hands were scratching at you from within, trying to claw their way out of you. You couldn’t take a full breath, your breathing quickly shallowed, as if something was wringing out your lungs.

It had been creeping up on you ever since you had started the spell, but it had just crashed on top of you like a ton of bricks. You slid down the wall you had been leaning against, clutching your heart and fighting for breath. You were panicking.

“You’re okay, love, ‘m right here with you” Spike knew immediately what it was, crouching down beside you the ghost of his touch hovering over your shoulder as it erratically rose and fell.

“I- I can’t-” You stammered, lightning violently cracking through the air as you spoke.

“You’re okay, love.” he soothed, taking big unneeded breaths of his own to give you something to focus on. You tried to speak but he shook your head, you needed to focus on your breathing, “Breathe, Y/n, that’s right.”

He continued to breathe with you, your fingers numbing and your chest feeling like it was caving in. You felt like you needed to reach inside and stop it somehow but you could summon no amount of power or magic to stop it. This made it worse, you couldn’t control it. You couldn’t stop it and the storm raged on, worse this time as the thunder came from within.

“You’re safe, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anythin’ nasty get you, just take your time” He knelt before you, so that he was all that you could see.

As you slowly managed to regulate your breathing, you stayed sat in the same position as before. Rain started to fall as your tears broke, rolling down your face as the rain pelted down from the sky. You reached for him and he held you, arms wrapping around you as raindrops rolled down his cheeks.

You both stayed, crouched on the floor with the rain hammering down and soaking you both as he pressed the most tender kisses. First against your forehead, then your temple and finally a gentle peck against your lips.

Eventually, Spike moved, only to remove his leather duster to drape it around your shoulders. You hadn’t brought a jacket despite his insistence back in your shared crypt. He didn’t feel the weather and even if he did he would have done the same. Just as he knew you would for him.  

“Sorry about…”

“Don’t you ever apologise. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, you got nothin’ to be sorry for. I meant it, I always mean it. I’m here for every part of you” The look in his eyes told you that he meant every word. There was no reason for you to ever feel embarrassed, especially not around him. You would never be a burden, nor an inconvenience.

“Thanks” you murmured, but the look he gave you told you that him being here for you was not something he needed to be thanked for, he loved you after all. He was by your side always.

“Let’s get you home, love, catch your death out here” he joked, a watery smile on your face as you pulled his jacket around you. He encouraged you to lean against him as you walked, his arm firmly around your shoulders, the weather clearing if only slightly as you went.

[mo-the-gremlin-dandelion]

Happy Coradrag AU - Holding Luffy

Coradrag Humor + Tragedy

Happy Coradrag AU

Would you look at this! Looks like I can write! Badly, but I did it! Everybody is probably out of character though but whatever, it’s an AU. Another long one though.

Summary: Luffy’s closest family members holding him for the first time.

Dragon holding newborn Luffy:

When Dragon doubled over in pain and peed his pants in navigation, he wasn’t expecting this.

He wasn’t expecting the pain to be him in labour and the “pee” to be his water breaking.

Dragon just thought he had a stomach ache and that he just had to push through it until either the meds kicked in or the day was over.

He’s not coming back from this is he? His reputation is ruined. 

What is he even going to do with a baby? His baby? He was fine with taking Ace because Ace was able to run despite being 3. He could run before he even crawled (stupid D genes). He’s a biter as well so he is not completely defenceless.

Should he send the baby off to his father? Ace too? No, not with how Garp raised him.

Rosinante? Dragon hadn’t been with anyone else other than Rosinante so he could only be the other father. God he missed him. Rosinante was one of the few people who didn’t mind Dragon’s grumpy personality. 

What was he going to do? Contacting Garp or Rosinante could go very wrong if the wrong people found out. What if there were complications? What if- Then he heard crying.

“Here you go Dragon, a healthy boy. Make sure to support the head.” The RA doctor said while placing the baby in Dragon’s arms. 

Dragon stopped his doom spiral and looked at his son. God he was so little. The baby was so tiny! No wonder he didn’t know he was pregnant, the baby was the same size as his hand!

He was so cute! The last time Dragon saw something so beautiful was when his father handed him Ace. Oh god Dragon has two children. Two very young children. He is running a revolution with two small children.

Before Dragon could spiral into a panic attack, the baby made a noise of displeasure and started squirming. Dragon didn’t realise he was crying onto the baby. He couldn’t blame him for being grumpy, he’d be the same way if someone was crying onto him.

“Shh.. It’s okay. I’m here,” Dragon hushed to the baby while gently patting him, “You made quite an entry didn’t you? You're going to cause a lot of problems aren’t you?”

Dragon could have sworn he saw the baby smirking. He decided it was just the hormone infused whiplash he was currently experiencing making him see things.

God he needed a nap and some pain killers.

Ace (3 years old) “holding” a couple hours old Luffy:

Ace was confused and scared at the moment. 

Ace woke up from his “unneeded” nap and didn’t know why he couldn’t see his Dad now. He wanted his Dad. He heard him scream and then Ivankov told him he couldn’t see him for a little while. He wanted his Dad right now! It’s been forever since he’s seen him and he’s scared. His Dad said he could come see when he was scared. Why couldn’t he see him now!? He didn’t even want the meat that people kept trying to give him. Ace was trying not to cry but it was getting harder to hold it all in. He WANTED his DAD! He wanted his Dad’s cuddles and to know that everything was okay. He was going to burst if-

“You can see him now Ace.” Ivankov told him.

Ace snapped out of it and rushed to push past Ivankov into the hallway, but he wasn’t fast enough and got scooped up. Ivankov carried the squirming, biting Ace to the ships infirmary where Dragon was.

“Hold still would you!? Stop trying to bite me! You’ll see your Dad in a minute!” Ivankov told Ace while struggling to not drop him. Dragon was very hormonal at the moment and would probably go through with his (usually joking) threat of killing. Ivankov set Ace down outside the door and was about to tell him that he needed to be quiet, but Ace finally got a bite in and burst into the room. 

Thankfully the baby is a heavy sleeper.

Ace ran to Dragon and crawled up onto the bed, face planting into Dragon’s stomach.

“Oof, Ace be careful please.” Dragon told Ace while groaning. He moved Ace up towards his chest and started rubbing his back trying to sooth the crying child.

“I didn’t know where you were! I was scared! They told me I couldn’t see you!” Ace sniffled while burying his head into Dragon’s neck.

“I know, I’m sorry. But I have a surprise for you. You want to see?” Dragon asked while hushing Ace. He waited until Ace nodded before he motioned Ivankov to give him the baby.

“Remember when you asked me how babies were made? And when you asked for a brother? Well turns out there was a baby on the way. Ace, this is your little brother Luffy.” Dragon told him.

Ace looked at the squishy thing in the blanket with curiosity. He thought babies were supposed to be cute. 

“He’s ugly.” Ace pouted.

Dragon let out a small laugh, “Most babies are at first. You want to hold him?”

Ace nodded his head, still a little unsure about Luffy. With a bit of help from Ivankov, Ace was now holding Luffy with Dragon’s arms helping to support him. Luffy let out a little grunt and wiggled before settling.

“Luffy’s really small.” Ace said.

“So were you Ace, all babies are. He’ll get bigger just like you. And you can help teach him things.” Dragon told him.

“Really? Can I teach him how to run from shitty gramps?” Ace asked sweetly, getting excited now.

“Not for a while, but yeah…” Dragon replied sighing.

While this was going on, Luffy was moving his arms around, looking for something to hold onto. Ace was startled a bit when Luffy’s little hand latched onto his fingers. Ace looked down at his new brother and thought that maybe he wasn’t so ugly after all.

Rosinante holding 3 week old Luffy:

Rosinante had a child! A son! He couldn’t be more happy or confused.

He was happy because he had a baby, but he was confused about why Dragon didn’t tell him. Did he lie when he found out about where Rosinante came from? Oh god, did Dragon hate him now?

Rosinante ran to the Monkey D. house with Garp and Sengoku following behind. He burst through the front door, startling Dadan who was resting in the living room after putting Ace down for a nap.

“You’re the other father I assume? First door on the right.” She told him while pointing to the stairs.

Rosinante quickly thanked her before he stumbled up the stairs to where Dragon was. After face planting on the floor, he got up and stood in front of the door. He was hesitant to knock. What if Dragon really did hate him now? What if he resented him for getting him pregnant? What if-

“You can come in here Rosinante.” Dragon told him from the otherside of the door. He sounded tired.

Rosinante cringed before slowly opening the door and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. “How’d you know it was me?”

“My father wouldn’t have been quiet or polite enough to ask, Dadan just put Ace down for a nap, and Sengoku probably needs a minute to comprehend everything.” Dragon told him while he slowly sat up against the headboard, “Also, I heard you fall up the stairs and face plant.”

Rosinante cringed again and rubbed the back of his neck feeling awkward, “Heh, sorry about that… Are you.. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?” Dragon asked cautiously.

“I’m fine, just overwhelmed? I mean I’m not mad, but…”  Rosinante rambled, “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

“I didn’t know. I just thought I was sick from guilt of leaving the marines,” Dragon told him fiddling with the blanket, the ‘and you’ went unsaid, “I only found out when I gave birth. I thought I peed myself.”

“You really didn’t know? I thought you left because you hated me.” Rosinante said, relieved that it wasn’t because Dragon resented him after finding out about his past. 

“I could never hate you, why would I? I thought I was sick from the guilt of leaving you behind. I wanted to leave you a note, but I also didn’t want to endanger you or make you think I was using you for information. I didn’t want you to hate me.” Dragon told him a little panicked while finally looking at him, “I also didn’t want to make you feel like I was taking advantage of you. I’m too old for you, I didn’t think you’d actually want me.”

“I couldn’t hate you either Dragon and you’re not too old for me! If you were, I would have never have tried to use all those horrible pick-up-lines Bellemere gave me or pulled you into the coat closet for the first time! I thought you hated me because of my past and that is what broke the camel’s back. Then Garp told me what you were doing and I don’t hate you for trying to make the world better.” Rosinante replied sitting down on the other side of the bed.

Dragon let out a relieved sigh and wiped away some tears before reaching out to hold Rosiante’s hand, “I’m so sorry. I should have told you about when I was leaving.”

Rosinante moved closer to Dragon and hugged him tightly, “It’s alright, we both suck at communicating. Do you think we can have a relationship?”

“How? I’m a criminal and you're a marine?” Dragon asked.

“Your Dad is insane and mine is the Fleet Admiral. We’ll work something out.” Rosinante confidently replied.

Dragon laughed wetly, thinking that maybe some of Garp’s insanity rubbed off onto Rosinante, “You want to meet our son?”

Rosinante won’t admit this, but he forgot that was why he was here. He nodded his head so fast he almost fell off the bed. Dragon caught him thankfully.

“Sit against the headboard and I’ll get him.” Dragon directed.

Rosinante situated himself against the headboard and watched as Dragon went over to the bassinet in the corner of the room and lifted a tiny bundle out of it. Dragon gently placed the baby in Rosinante’s arms after adjusting them.

Rosinante’s breath was blown away and he started to softly cry. This little baby was his. Dragon’s and his. His son was so tiny and wiggly! Rosinante has never seen a baby so small, he met Ace when he was a toddler, this baby fit in his hand.

“He is so beautiful Dragon,” Rosinante said softly, “What’s his name?”

“I named him Luffy. I hope that’s alright.” Dragon replied, a little nervous, while wiping away Rosinante’s tears.

“It’s perfect. Thank you Dragon.” Rosinante said, never taking his eyes off of Luffy.

Dragon hugged Rosinante closer and sighed, maybe everything will work out after all.

Garp holding 3 week old Luffy:

Garp couldn’t believe this was his newest grandson he was holding. 

Seriously, what the hell is this thing? This couldn’t be Luffy. It was a tiny, deformed,  squirming potato in a blanket. How could HIS son make such an ugly baby? 

Actually, Garp didn’t even think Dragon knew how to make a baby. Maybe those drawings he made helped him after all. Or maybe Dragon just picked this thing up off a road somewhere. However, his son did hit him when he asked that; although that could just be for calling the baby a thing or ugly. Garp decided he was blaming Rosinante’s genes for this outcome; just look at his ugly, older brother!

Luffy let out a coo and grabbed a hold of Garp’s beard, trying to pull it off.

This might not be so bad. With such a strong grip, maybe he could train this one into a fine marine. Garp is bitten by Ace everytime he tries to train him. Maybe this one will join the marines and not cause world changing problems. 

Sengoku holding 3 week old Luffy:

Sengoku couldn’t believe this was happening. His son had a kid. A kid with an older man who happens to be the most wanted criminal in the world at the moment. Garp’s marine deserting, revolutionary starting son who is much older than Rosinante. Goddammit, what has his life come to?

Dragon being older than Rosinante wasn’t really the problem. Sengoku would be a hypocrite if that is what he focused on, but he also isn’t about to tell his son about his own past relationships and “meetings” in coat closets.

The problem wasn’t even that Dragon was a criminal. Sengoku has a lot of regrets from his career, so he understands where Dragon was coming from when he started the Revolutionary Army. He knows that Dragon is a good man at heart and that he would treat Rosinante well. Would he have liked Rosinante to be with a civilian or a marine? Sure, but he just wants his son to be happy.

No, Sengoku’s problem with this whole situation was that Dragon was GARP’s son. That means that they are now in-laws. Now not only does Sengoku have to see Garp at work, he now has to have family dinners with him! Again, no offence to Dragon, but he would’ve taken literally anyone else OTHER than Garp to have as an in-law. Not only that, but if he did his maths right, Dragon might also be Gol D. Roger’s son as well. Dragon is also raising Ace. God Sengoku has never wanted to drink more. 

Now as he is sitting stiff in the Monkey D. house on Dawn Island, contemplating his life choices, Rosinante carefully walks over with a wiggly little bundle.

“Look Dad! Isn’t he cute? Here hold him!” Rosinante told him cheerfully.

Before Sengoku knew what was happening, Rosinante was adjusting his arms and gently placing Luffy into them. Sengoku blinked and then he looked down.

Luffy was smaller than he expected, considering both of his parents were over 8ft tall. He was wiggling around like a worm and reaching upwards. Sengoku knew that Luffy was a couple weeks shy of being able to smile, but he felt that is what Luffy was doing. Maybe he was an early bloomer; he definitely had Rosinante’s smile. Luffy looked like Dragon otherwise. 

Maybe being in-laws with Garp wouldn’t be so bad. He’s got two grandsons to spoil now after all.

[tsuiioku]

Hello I hope your having a great day/night but I was wondering if you could do headcannons for Sigma and Dazai with an s/o with social anxiety disorder (like for me I get chest pains and nausea in social situations I’m nervous in, like being around alot of people or awkward situations and very shy to new people) thank you so much if you do end up doing this I love your writing so much btw! :D

𝖘/𝖔 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖘𝖔𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖝𝖎𝖊𝖙𝖞

content. gn!reader. social anxiety disorder, panic attacks, cuddling, hurt/comfort. not proofread.

author's note. this is my first time writing for sigma, so i hope it is not incredibly out of character!

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 would probably initially panic himself.

You cannot tell me this man does not have his own anxiety problems (but it’s more general anxiety rather than social-specific anxiety). But at the very least, he could relate deeply to your pain.

His first initial response is to get you away from the social situation immediately (utilizing his casino manager persona). However, if he can’t get you out of the situation, he will be there for you both emotionally and physically. It’s displayed either by him holding your hand or waist and him constantly making eye contact with you to make sure you’re still okay.

If you’re at an event that you absolutely cannot leave, he’ll take you aside occasionally to a secluded corner to allow you to breathe with him. He is constantly checking up on you throughout the entire event, usually by observing your facial expressions and posture. And if someone is rude to you, that manager persona is in full force.

That man may be a complete nervous wreck (all the time), but it’s almost like the switch flips in his brain whenever someone treats you rudely. (Don’t let him touch the machine guns, though. You’ll have a lawsuit on your hands).

If the event becomes a big stressor, to the point of you having a panic attack, it doesn’t matter what obligations either of you have; you are leaving ASAP.

Once both of you arrive back at your shared suite in the casino, he will constantly question whether you’re okay.

You are absolutely having a little spa night with him – no choice. You’re gonna receive some good TLC to make sure you’re back to 100%. He’ll even order your favorite meal and desserts via room service. You won’t even have to leave the comfort of your bed.

When you head to sleep, he checks on you one last time, massaging any remaining tense muscles as he soothes you to sleep. After all, both of you are in this together.

"It's okay, love. I'm right here with you. Breathe with me, okay?"

At the start of your relationship, 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 probably dragged you into multiple social situations by accident (it’s the Osamu Dazai Effect). And honestly, he thinks it’s very cute with how shy you are.

However, once he realizes that these situations cause you actual stress, he starts to feel a bit bad for the previous experiences (this man would be thinking about each situation he had dragged you into, feeling more guilt when he remembered your expressions). He becomes a lot more watchful with the situations you both get involved in.

Don’t get me wrong, the Osamu Dazai effect will unavoidably drag you both back into another situation, but if he can prevent unnecessary stress for his baby, he will. In those inevitable situations, he makes sure to stay as physically close to you as possible (unless he absolutely can’t). For those who know him, it looks like he’s being his clingy self, but it’s all for the purpose of comforting you. 

He wants to make sure you know that he’s right there with you, that he’s not gonna let anything bad happen to you.

When the other people involved in the conversation are distracted, he’ll whisper reassurances to you in hopes that it’ll calm you down.

He’ll try to leave the situation as soon as possible, sometimes walking away from the other person mid-conversation.

Also, God forbid someone was mean to you.

There is a reason this man was called the Demon Prodigy—anyone who makes his lover uncomfortable or upset is gonna have a deep problem with him. After all, the saying is that the worst misfortune for Dazai’s enemies is that they are Dazai’s enemies.

Once you both get away, he’ll subtly check in on you in his typical Dazai way (which means mostly by being touchy and over-affectionate, unless you don’t like that).

However, you will receive a hug from this man.

And come on, I don’t doubt that he would be the type to give some of the best hugs when he is in a more serious mood. While he probably runs at a cooler temperature, the large jacket that he wears radiates heat. You’ll be snuggled up against him in no time.

Speaking of snuggling, if the social situation left you especially drained to the point of exhaustion, he would hands-down use it as an excuse to leave work early so that he could cuddle with you while you rest—after all, he needs to keep his baby happy and healthy :)

"Don't worry about talking, dear. I'll take care of everything."

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath

© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c10. Kidnapped

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Come a little closer, Cage the elephant.

abstract: hey this is Jude. you doing alright? you'd never guess who I saw! anyways, I'm almost content in this chapter and then I'm angry again. I've been angry my whole life guys I swear. also, had a special someone with me that night, can you guess who my passenger princess was?

She chuckled when he left the room. Skeleton mask, skeleton gloves, hell he probably had skeleton fucking underwear on. It seemed so out of character for him to be this nice to come all the way to her office and talk to her. He did seem a tiny bit uncomfortable, maybe he wasn't the best at social interactions. He had woke up happy and decided to be a decent human being for once. She didn't trust that his intentions were pure. Maybe he wanted her to speak about it cause he already heard from his friends and wanted the full version. You really want to know Simon, I'll send you the security cameras footage via email, that'll hunt you for a lifetime.

She had a busy day and had to stop thinking about their interaction for a few hours. She was in such a good mood she even had lunch, alone in her office, but still. Her thoughts kept wondering to the Lieutenant, his blue jacket and his thick arms, she had to compose herself when Sergeant Raul, her last patient of the day, had a panic attack in front of her. She got home late, exhausted. She went on a night walk with Jinx, cooked dinner and sat down at her table, her violent grinder and little jar with weed in front of her. She had some reports to finish, she had another two Nutcracker songs to choreograph. Her eyes lingered on 'The Pilgrimage' which she kept as a souvenir from her Sherlock CIA experience with the Arash case. She fished out a lighter from her bag and opened the book in front of her. She liked reading it, she enjoyed it. She had never been much of a religious person, though she was raised catholic. She respected the idea of faith, how it guided people, how it made them feel less alone. She had a thought. A tiny one. A sneaky suspicion. The little urge to lurk. It was a little lightbulb moment, a cinematic sequence in which the music stopped and then violins started playing as she began to think. Her rollie in one hand, the book in the other, she looked at her dog, smell of weed all around her. The poor thing was asleep on the couch, blissfully unaware. When she reached for her laptop to do some research, she knew she was gonna find something.

Two days later she was still debating on telling Price. She really didn't want to bother Laswell, poor woman didn't need more work. They were going to leave in 4 days. She decided she'd tell the first person she would see. It would be the universe to decide. Her office was at the opposite area from Price's so she had slim chances of telling anyone. It wasn't her mission, it wasn't her job, it wasn't her place. She was overstepping.

'Fuck', she said to herself, when she saw the Lieutenant in the parking lot. She froze, foot on the brakes. That's it, it's the universe's choice, you have to tell him. He's gonna kill you. He was smoking. His mask was slightly raised on his nose, exposing his mouth. Not that she could see anything, he was way too far and she was short sighted. Did he ever leave that mask home? He had a vest on, a light blue sherpa jacket that looked extremely comfortable. She looked at his cigarette, he had less than half of it left. Four drags maximum. Just tell him for fuck's sake, it's for the greater good and it’s a fucking good theory. He was almost finished. She slowly came to a stop in front of him and rolled down her window.

The world was silent around them. The sun was setting, the air was crisp. He had noticed the car, he remember it was the same model as hers. He didn't think she would stop. What she said next made his heart skip a beat. 'Hop in? I need to talk to you'. Her eyes were even a prettier colour in this light. They looked translucent. Her skin was shining and golden under the sunlight. 'Can it wait?' He tried to avoid getting in the car with her. Deeply unprofessional. Where did she want to take him anyway, couldn't they talk in his office? What was it she wanted to tell him? 'I'll take you back here when we're done, just a little ride’. She wasn't giving up. Am I being fucking kidnapped by you, Jude? Most guys wouldn't really complain to be honest, but still… He reluctantly sat in the passenger seat, having to adjust his seat to accommodate for his size. The lack of control he had in the situation made him uncomfortable, his fingers tingling with excitement and a slight bit of panic. But this girl… this girl, her presence was just weirdly irresistible. He wanted to know what she wanted to say, every little detail, every hint to who she truly was. He craved that. She slowly took off. She seemed a good driver, she kept her speed stable. 'What is it?' he asked impatient to know why he was being kidnapped. 'So, I kept thinking about what you said about Khorram, that he's hidden somewhere.' She glanced at him while she talked, maintaining her eyes on the road ahead. 'I thought about The Pilgrimage, the book. It's the three stages that I thought about, you know, the Jordan River was the first. Then the middle of the desert, then the Persian Gulf.'

He had to know she was coming up with another theory of hers. He started to get tense. He was getting tired to ear about this, she really had to let this go, it wasn't her place to be talking about it, all these speculations... This was war, people were getting killed everyday by this man and she was here playing detectives. 'I don't think you should keep working on this Jude. It's not your job', he said in the most assertive tone he could manage. She licked her lips, they were entering the city. She sighed, 'I know, I'm just suggesting', she insisted, but he cut her off. 'It's not your place.' He stated. He wasn't afraid to be rough with her or sound disrespectful. She was driving through a bit of traffic, she change gears swiftly and still managed to wave her hand in the air while she talked. 'I know! Since you guys didn't have a clue what you were doing the last time…' he interrupted her again, 'Doesn't mean you're right this time'. She scoffed and slightly raised her tone, visibly annoyed. 'You didn't even fucking let me finish, you don't know what I was about to say!' He caught a glimpse of her eyes, they looked darker. She had the same expression she always had. She looked like she was going to cast a spell on him and turn him into a chair. She must have always won every single argument in her life. Not with him, not with that attitude. 'I don't want to hear it, I can't make my soldiers do things and go places because you read a fucking book, Jude.' If she thought she could win this, she was seriously delusional. 'I read the fucking book that made you not die last week, Simon!' She raised her voice again, turning to face him. Hearing his name escape her lips made him feel weird. It was unusual to hear his name. Ghost, L.t, he had a few nicknames. Only Price called him Simon. He thought about whether she even knew he was Ghost to the others. Simon. It sounded different. It sounded warmer, it sounded pretty. She sang his name. It sounded like it belonged in the phrase Do you want to try that new restaurant with me, Simon, or There's a song I want you to listen, Simon, or Want to take a walk with me, Simon? It sounded like it belonged to a nice, handsome and normal guy, which he wasn't.

'Merda. Oh, merda.' He didn't realise she wasn't looking at him anymore. She had stopped the car, was she going to abandon him on the side of the road? They had stopped in front of a closed building, a few cars parked in the front. The woman next to him had a confused look on her face, which quickly shifted to panic. There was a girl in front of one of the cars. She was alone and she had a bag on her shoulder. Jude pulled the handbrake and got out of the car, walking towards the girl. She must have been 14. He got out of the car, but didn't approach them. He looked at Jude take the girl's hands in her own and talk to her. He couldn't really hear what they were saying, but the little girl was sniffling. She had been crying. 'Oh god', whispered Jude as she hugged the girl, scrunching down. He watcher her hand caress the girl's hair. Why was everything so complicated and bloody mysterious when it came to this girl? He looked at Jude taking the little girl's hand and taking her to the car. He probably looked scary with his skull printed balaclava on. 'Get in Gemma, I'll drive you home okay?' She said, seating down. 'Gemma this is my friend, Simon. Simon this is one of my students, Gemma.'

Jude was perfectly calm now, the little girl sitting in the back of the car. Her eyes were dark, she was driving much slower now, more carefully. She was mad. For what? What do you mean students? He had so many questions he couldn't process to say hi to the girl. Jude kept glancing in the review mirror to make sure Gemma was okay in the back. 'You like the choreography so far?' she asked. She danced? 'Yes, really much' Gemma answered 'I like when we do the circle. With the tour jetés' she said. Jude smiled 'Yeah I like that part too'. She was driving in a residential area more far away from the city centre, but they were getting closer to the road that would take them into the desert. 'Was it this one or the next Gemma?' she was slowing down. 'The next one' said the girl quietly. 'I'll talk to your mom okay?' She said while getting out of the car. She quickly turned towards him, her look apologetic 'I'm sorry, I'll explain. Just a second.' She felt bad for making him wait, it was very unprofessional of her, but it was an emergency and he just happened to be there. At least they stopped fighting. She explained to Gemma's mother that she was driving past the school when she saw her standing outside. The school was open when they arrived, it had closed 5 minutes after she had left. The girls had told Gemma about an extra lesson just for the 5 top students of the class and Gemma had asked her mom to take her. She said she was furious with the others and would talk to them and possibly even prevent some to dance at the final performance. She apologised to Gemma for having to wait outside because of that stupid joke and hugged her one more time, before making her way to the car. Furious was an understatement. How could they be so fucking mean? So so so stupid... She sighed while getting back into the car.

'I'm sorry, I'll take you back. Sorry. Sorry.' She quickly reversed and took off in the direction of the desert. 'Everything okay?' He decided to speak since she was gripping the steering wheel with her knuckles turning white. She waited a second before replying. 'I teach ballet. The other girls told her we had lesson when we didn't, she was the only one who showed up. The school is closed, it's dark out she could have been kidnapped', she said all in one breath. She was shaking her head, how fucking horrifying and dangerous was it to be left alone in the middle of nowhere as a 14 year old girl. Thank God she saw her, poor Gemma. She wasn't blaming her mom, the school was probably still open when they arrived and closed soon after. They were approaching the base in silence, she stopped near the entrance to let him go inside. She kept muttering words in Italian, she was biting her nails nervously. 'Che stronze. Come si fa…assurdo. Troppe poche botte da piccole.' She turned towards him before he had a chance to open the door. 'I'm very sorry you had to witness that, I truly am.' She blinked a few times trying to hide her embarrassment. She messed up all her chances to get him to listen to what she had found now. 'It's fine' he said. His voice was soft. He probably understood that she really couldn't leave the girl there alone, but still. His hand was on the door handle but he wouldn't open the door yet. 'Okay… I'm sorry either way I shouldn't have… done all this.' She was panicking a little at this point. 'Jude it's fine, seriously.' He finally opened the door and got out of the car 'Go home.' He stated before turning away and entering the base.

She went home. She facetimed Salvo and told him about the situation to rant a little bit. She didn't mentioned who she was with, cause it embarrassed her. Cause picking him up was the stupidest idea of her life. She was so fucking mad at the girls she thought about a million fucking different ways to find out who was responsible and make them pay. God, I sound like my mother. Which is very bad, considering what she does for a living…

notes: oh god, what does her mother do then? translation: 'those bitches. how is this possible… incredible. didn't get hit hard enough as kids.' don't hit your kids, violence is bad. also is bullying. I am getting really good results at uni guys!! I'm gonna post the next preview as well cause I'm gonna be studying a lot again, and working and you know. figuring out how to be happy with my life I guess.

love, mare.

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[drunkenbagel]

Enchanted to meet you - Part 3

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Spanish f!reader Contents: overall fluff, descriptions of panic attack, angst with comfort a/n: i'm so so sorry for being away so long, i somehow lost access to the account and couldn't post anything!! also have been on a kind of writer's block, so i'm sorry for that too lol. for this part i added some media, let me know if you like it :D Word count: 5,5k Disclaimer: none of the photos used are mine and therefore i do not own them, i just edited them.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Your side of the video call stayed silent for a moment, while you were trying to process what Pedro just said.

“y/n? Did I lost you?” he asked, and groaned. “Maldita cobertura de LA” (Damned LA reception.)

“Wha- What did you just say?” you questioned again. “Are you kidding me right now? Because if you are, no te lo perdonaré nunca.” (I'll never forgive you)

”What? I just-” he started another sentence, but he was interrupted by someone asking to take a picture with him. You quickly silenced your mic and turned off your camera, not wanting to be seen by the people he was with. They would probably get the wrong idea, getting him in trouble. Not to mention the controversy and the incessant hate train that the situation would create. You knew Pedro was sensitive when it came to hurt and pain, even if it didn't seem that way just because he brushed it off with goofiness and some jokes. So, you tried your best to avoid any kind of problem that seeing someone like you with him could cause. After a few minutes, he focused his phone on his face again.

“Hey, sorry about that, darlin'” he said with a side smile. “Some people asked- Are you still there?”

You connected your mic and camera again. “Yeah, sorry. Didn't want to disturb you.”

He frowned. “Don't say that. You don't.”

You felt a small pang on your chest, but you brushed it off by jumping again to the previous topic.

“So, what is that thing you were telling me? You're inviting me where?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking if you'd like to come with me to Los Angeles. I've got some long filming ahead and was wondering if you'd like to visit me. I'm going to stay at my house here, and of course, as my best friend, you have a designated room” he said laughing. “I could show you around and stuff. You know, to see the beautiful places here.”

“I mean... I'd sure as hell would love it, don't get me wrong or anything” you said, letting out a nervous chuckle. “But, uhm...”

You didn't know how to tell him that you were dying to see Los Angeles since you moved to the United States, but that you were afraid to be outside with him and the consequences that it could bring. You two had been basically best friends for almost two and a half years now, but he was still a celebrity, for fuck's sake. And you were... Average. You always tried to be really careful when going outside with him. Wasn't he afraid of being seen with you? It was easier to blend in the few times you two went out in New York, especially since you preferred to go out mostly at night-time or just hang out at his house.

“Then it's settled! I'll be back there in like a week, and after a few days we can come back here for as long as you like. I think it'll be so fun being here with you, you'll love this! I'll show you so many things here. Oh, I also could show you around the studios, maybe you'll see someone from those crime shows you're obsessed with.”

“Hey! Why the cute rant and then you attack me? Not fair” you said cracking a small smile. “I appreciate your invite, really, but... I don't know, I have my job, my rent...”

“y/n, since your promotion you practically work from home. You don't go to the office anymore. And about your apartment, you always complain about the landlord, the sink, the place itself. Si no es esto, es lo otro. Why don't you move out and look for anything else?” (If it's not this, it's that.)

“I-” you tried to think of any excuses, but he was right. You had been looking for apartments, but it was very difficult to find anything decent in New York with an average paycheck. You sighed, defeated. “Look, I know you're right, but what do you want me to do? Just magically find something?”

He hummed, and brought his hand to his chin, thinking. You almost laughed. It looked like he was thinking so hard. After a few moments, he snapped his fingers.

“Here's the deal. I know this filming is going to be at least three months, so how about you stay with me here, and then you can stay at mine in New York? You know you have a room at my place anyways.”

“What? That is not-” You felt your cheeks heat up. How could he be so calm about this? “So that is your solution? You want me to move in with you?”

“I wouldn't say that, it's more like... A temporary solution until you find a place for yourself. You know you practically spend all your time in my house when I'm there! Also, you could stop paying rent for that shithole while staying with me, so I only see positive points here. Am I wrong?”

He smiled at the camera while you ran a hand through your hair, stressed. He had a very valid point, of course, but he said it so casually that it left you a bit dumbfounded. So did this mean that he didn't care to be seen with you? His New York apartment was in a multiple housing building, so it was always easier for you to go in unnoticed. But Los Angeles? You didn't know if that was possible. People there were more used to seeing celebrities, of course, but the anxious thoughts were not leaving you alone.

“Hey, I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable or anything. You know you can always say no” he said with a worried tone.

“I know, I know. I was just thinking...” you sighed. “You're right. But are you sure you don't mind me being there with you? Or anywhere close for that matter? Are you sure it's okay? Because I wouldn't-”

“Y'think I would have said it if I didn't mean it? You're offending me!” he said laughing. “Now, seriously. I'd love to have you around more. You know I miss you when we're apart.”

“Aw, mi Pedrito se enterneció. ¡Te he ablandado! How did you live without me?” you joked. (My little Pedro got soft. I have softened you!)

His could feel his cheeks getting red, but he tried to brush it off. “Anda, cállate. Do you accept my deal or not? The offer is now for limited time.” (C'mon, shut up.)

“Okay, okay! I do accept” you said laughing. “But I'll need help with moving if I have to leave everything at your apartment before going to LA. You help me or the deal is off.”

“You got it” he said with a wide smile. The way his eyes wrinkled while he was smiling or laughing made your heart skip a beat. It was too cute for your heart to handle, you loved it. The way he grasped onto anyone around him while he let out the cutest belly laugh, or how contagious they were.

Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you. Pedro loved your laugh, especially when it was shared with him. Oh, how his heart started to beat faster every time you sent him a message. Or how that one time you were video chatting him and you felt so comfortable that you fell asleep still in the call. He ended up just watching you sleep soundly before falling asleep ‘beside you’. And now he was going to have you under the same roof? He felt like he was the happiest man in the world when you accepted. He couldn't believe you did. He had been thinking about asking you since you always complained about how awful your landlord was, or how he refused to fix anything. Truth be told, he wanted to punch that guy more than anything sometimes.

He tried to keep his silly crush for himself, especially since you were much younger than him. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, so he tried to keep it away from his thoughts. But it was so damn difficult. You were so kind, so caring, and so sweet. He wanted you all for himself, but whenever he thought about it, he always ended up in the conclusion that you didn't seem to show any interest beyond your friendship. That's why he forced himself to act as he was, just your ‘older’ best friend. Who casually just invited you to live with him.

Cool, cool. Totally normal.

As the days went by, you put your leave notice to your landlord and started packing everything. Pedro helped you with all, just as he promised, even using his own car to move the boxes back and forth between apartments. Luckily, you didn't have that much stuff since your apartment was quite small. Time seemed to pass very slowly but so fast at the same time, leaving your stomach to be a flustered mess of nervousness. Soon enough, you both were waiting into the airline row to enter the plane.

“Oh my god. I can't believe I'm doing this!”

“It's hitting you now?” Pedro answered laughing. “Actually, it's making me feel weird too. But the good kind. I like it when I have you around.”

“Aw” you said pouting. “You like it, but not enough to pay for us to sit together?”

“Are you kidding me? I'm not going to pay 50 extra dollars for a seat. I'm already going to see you all the time when we land, don't give me a hard time with it! Plus, we're only a seat apart, eres una exagerada.” (You're exaggerating.)

“Whatever. I'll remember this betrayal.”

“Ugh” he said smiling while he rolled his eyes. “C'mon, we're next.”

The six hour flight went by faster than you expected it to be, especially since you slept for most of it. The chatty old lady that sat in between you two was kind enough to switch places with Pedro halfway on the flight when she saw the way he looked at you uncomfortably sleeping against the plane window, so he put the armrest back and carefully pulled you to his side so you could sleep on him.

You looked so beautiful like this. Softly moving your hair away from your face, he pushed the stray hairs behind your ear, and you sighed contently. He couldn't stop the smile that formed on his lips.

“How long have you been dating, dear?”

Pedro turned his head to his right, confused. “What?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Are you married perhaps? It's just that I didn't see your rings so I guessed you didn't pop the question yet. Don't tell me this trip is for that! Oh my, congratulations!”

“What? No! No, no” he said while moving his free hand on the air. He could feel his cheeks getting hot and he looked at you quickly in case you had heard the lady, but you were soundly asleep. Then he looked at her again. “It's not like that. We- Uh, we're just friends. She's my best friend. Just that.”

“‘M sorry then, dear. It's just that I heard you two talkin’ about living together, saw you actin’ like you were, and I just assumed. But let me tell ya’, honey, friends don't look at each other like that” she said, briefly patting his thigh while smiling. “My dear Stevie, may he rest in peace, was always lookin’ at me the same. I didn't realize I was in love with him until I was with somebody else, for the love of god! I just assumed he was a good friend and never saw me as nothin’ else. He even helped me with this guy just ‘cause I seemed happy. But you see, honey, he just wanted the best for me as long as I was happy, even if that meant sacrificing his own happiness. I almost lost my dearest because I thought helpin’ me to find joy in another meant that he wasn't interested. I can see how you look at her. Don't let that happen to you, honey. Believe me, not worth the time you lose while y’know that you two are just playin’ pretend.”

Pedro only looked at the woman with his lips briefly parted, his heart heavy on his chest. He didn't want that happening, but he could also not risk ruining the relationship he already had with you. He would never do that. Also, he noticed how you always avoided going to crowded spaces or where paparazzi could spot you two together. How could he not? He knew that you didn't like the attention that kind of things attracted, so he respected your decisions over where to meet. Pedro preferred staying with you watching TV or playing games rather than cameras following him everywhere anyways. In fact, he knew moving to Los Angeles was a huge step for you, since it was nearly impossible to go out and not be spotted by paparazzis. That was mainly why he was feeling so nervous about this whole thing, but he hoped that after all the time that you two had been friends for, maybe you wouldn't be too bashful about going out with him, and would let him recognise you publicly as his friend.

He spent the hour and a half that was left of the flight sleeping with his head on top of yours, only waking up when the lady beside him shook his arm gently to let him know that you were landing. He then did the same with you, and couldn't hold back a smile while he watched you rub your eyes and yawn. After getting off the plane you two went for your baggages, and after you managed to put everything in one big stroller, you started walking outside.

“I'm impressed” he said, watching you push the thing by yourself. “I thought you were going to bring your whole house over here. Is this really everything?”

“Well, no” you said as if it was obvious. “Did you think I was going to bring my scarfs, jackets and big sweaters to LA? I'm not-”

You stopped talking when you saw a man with a camera in the distance. He was taking pictures of you. You gulped and tried to laugh, but an uncomfortable chuckle came out.

“y/n? Are you alright?” asked Pedro, a little worried by your change of demeanour. He moved his eyes in the direction you were looking, and then he saw it. A couple of men with cameras, and they were getting closer. “Hey, look at me.” You linked your eyes with his, and he had a soft look on them. “You'll be alright. C'mon, let's take a taxi and get home.”

You nodded and tried to ignore the sound of clicking cameras getting closer. Taking the stroller, Pedro quickly made his way to a taxi and started packing everything up while you got inside. When the men reached the car you heard him say something before he got to the back of it with you and gave the address to the driver. You nervously took his hand with yours and he squeezed it twice, which was his silent way of asking if you were feeling okay. You squeezed it back once. Yeah, just anxious. You two came up with this method after Pedro realized that you sometimes went non-verbal when you were in situations that made you feel anxious, and he wanted to know how he could help. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he left a kiss on your hair while rubbing his thumb over yours. After a few minutes in silence, he spoke up.

“I'm thinking you won't have much enthusiasm of going out. I understand if you wanna spend the day at home. We can watch a film or something, then order food. Sounds good?”

“Yeah” you answered in a whisper. “I'm sorry.”

“Why? You didn't do anything wrong. I know you're not used to this, and I love you for coming with me to the other side of the country despite knowing the situations that you may have to face. I should be the one apologizing” he said, and kissed your forehead. “I know this will be hard at first, but I want to be able to call you my friend. To talk about you in interviews, or when people ask me about funny stories. And I'm not trying to give you an ultimatum or anything since I understand that you want your privacy, I do too, but with my kind of life, you always have to give something. I don't want you being followed, but at least I want to be able to not hide my amazing best friend to the world.”

“I understand, and I'm okay with it. I didn't just accept moving with you lightly, I knew what I was getting into. And I understand that it may have been difficult not to say anything about me, but I just- I wasn't ready. It's not easy being a celebrity's best friend” you said with a chuckle. “But I also get your point. You have been my best friend for a long time now, and I don't want to hide anymore. I know it's going to be hard, so I need you to be patient with me. More than you have already been, which I'm incredibly thankful for. But it's not going to be something I magically get used to. Don't you think I might also be dying to share you with the world? I'd love to! But I was trying to wrap my head around it. And I did, and I'm ready. So expect me posting about you and your shitty habits everywhere on my Instagram and Twitter from now on.”

He couldn't hold back a wide grin while he took you into a tight hug, and you giggled. “Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this, y/n. Ugh, you're the best. How did I ever bag this good of a friend?”

“I believe you stalked me for weeks, forced Ernesto to tell you things about my schedule, then waited for me in the café every time like a puppy and called it ‘a coincidence’, right?”

“You're saying it like I'm some creep or something! I just liked how normal you treated me, okay? Shut up.”

After arriving to the house and setting your things on your room, Pedro gave you a small tour of the house. You loved it. Especially the views from the amazing balcony that led to a beautiful view of the city. You two opened a bottle of wine while waiting for the takeout to arrive, and you braced yourself to finally face the challenge: going through socials. You were sure that the photos from this morning were all over the internet already, and when you entered Twitter, you confirmed it. The paparazzi pictures where everywhere, and everyone was speculating on how were you related to him. When the food arrived and he was about to dig into it, you spoke.

“Pedro?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it's time to post it” you said while taking a long sip of the glass.

“That fast?” he asked incredulously. You nodded and showed him your phone. “Okay then, one sec.”

He took out his phone and typed something. A few moments later, your phone chimed, and you stared at the Instagram post you were tagged in.

“You bitch! You could have picked another photo” you said while laughing.

“I know, but that's the funniest one” he said chuckling too.

—•—

It had been a bit more than a month since the photo was posted, and people were taking it a lot better than you had expected. Some were even asking you to post ‘unseen’ Pedro content. There were also people that insulted you and told you ugly things, but you decided to ignore and block them. Your social media follower count had exploded, and you had a lot of new people interacting with your normal content, but you got more or less used to it.

You had been out together a couple of times, mostly to get groceries and stuff before Pedro began his filming. He made you copies for every key in the house, and also gave you the spare one for his car in case you ever needed it. But since then, he spent a lot of hours out in the studios, so you mostly saw each other at early mornings or nights.

“Hey, I'm free today so I was thinking of going to the beach or something. I know it's not the best weather, but maybe we could take the car and then rent some bikes and go for a ride over there? What do you think?” Pedro asked you one afternoon while eating lunch.

You yawned while nodding. You had tried not to sleep in the Los Angeles daylight, but you were still kind of used to the New York timezone. Jet lag was no joke, and your shitty sleep schedule didn't help either.

“Sure. But I might be a little out of practice, so you better not laugh at me.”

“But that would be the best part!” he said laughing. “Okay then, I'll go for the car. This way I can show you around a bit more than these past weeks.”

He seemed very happy since he made you two public, and it made your heart go soft at the thought that sharing you with the world had that kind of reaction for him. Sometimes you thought that the people would find your friendship weird because of the age difference, but to your luck, it seemed like most people understood the situation a little. Of course, there were the ones that thought it was weird, or that you two were dating but didn't want to tell, but luckily it wasn't that many people.

When you got dressed Pedro drove to Santa Monica beach, then rented the bikes, and it was then when your small tour began. He showed you Venice beach, his favourite places to eat, drink and you even saw a museum from the outside. When the sun was starting to set, you rode back to the bike renting shop and sat in the sand to watch the sunset.

After it got a little dark, Pedro drove you to a local Mexican restaurant not too far to have dinner. You ordered some tacos and enchiladas, and while eating them both of you talked about how filming was going. He was so excited about it, and he wanted to invite you to set. You told him you would think about it beacuse you too had a job, but you ended up promising you would soon since you could do yours from anywhere and your schedule was more flexible. Pedro had a small desk on the living room so you used it as a makeshift little office.

Unaware for both of you, some people had spotted Pedro at the restaurant and posted it on the internet, which led the paparazzi to the location. They were waiting outside, and when you two realised it, it was too late, since there were already a small swarm of them. Your stomach began to ache with anxiety. This was the first time that you encountered that many together.

“I can ask the staff to let us out from the back” Pedro said after seeing your reaction to the small crowd.

“No, no. I don't want to inconvenience them or anything. We'll just... Go out, and then walk to the car and go back home. I'll be fine” you said, but worry was lingering in your voice.

After getting your leftovers in a small container, paying and gathering your things, you got up and headed to the exit. When Pedro got his hand on the handle of the cristal door, the flashes of the cameras had already began clicking around you. You had to cover your eyes and stop in your tracks for a second, which Pedro used to take your hand and lead you to where the car was a few meters away. Everyone was pushing around and shouting, trying to get his attention.

“Why did you hide her?”

“Did she move in with you?”

“Are you two dating?”

You reached the car, but they were too close. One of them was blocking the passenger door, so you couldn't really get into it. Pedro was already on the driver's side of the car, waiting for you to get in.

“Please move, you're in the middle” you heard Pedro say to them.

The photographers didn't listen and kept shouting while flashing their cameras. They were so close, too close, you felt like your air was slowly getting kicked out of your lungs. But they didn't back off, they just kept moving closer and pushing their way into you to get the best angles.

“Why are you even with her? You can do so much better!”

Pedro turned around to yell at the guy who said that, but he was just in front of you, and while he flinched backwards trying to get away from him thinking Pedro was maybe going to push him, his camera hit your face. It hit you right in the cheek, breaking the skin ever so slightly but enough to make you bleed. You gasped and your head moved down from the impact. You heard Pedro yell your name as he ran to your side, and you could swear the small crowd went silent for an instant before resuming the flashing of the cameras.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Pedro screamed at the guy. He took your face softly in between his hands as he was inspecting the spot which you had been hit on.

“She was in the middle, it's not my fault!”

“It's not your fault?” he said tearing his eyes from you to the man, and felt the worry for you shift into rage inside of him. “If you had even a little bit of a brain you wouldn't have to push anyone, you fucking asshole!”

You couldn't hear anything. Everything sounded like it was muffled. Panic was starting to build rapidly into you, making your limbs shake. Your breath was becoming irregular and your hands were sweating. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. You turned your back to the photographers, facing the car and putting your hands against it in an attempt to ground yourself. Tears started forming in your eyes, and you tried not to spill them. You didn't want to cry, not here, not where you could embarrass Pedro. That was the last thing you wanted. You tried to open the car door with shaky hands, and after what felt like an eternity, you got into the car. You crouched down and took your head between your hands trying to stop your head from pounding. Pedro was so fucking angry at the guy. How could he treat you like that? He had no right to do it. He was almost going to punch him but stopped in his tracks when he saw you get into the car and double over. His stomach sank at the sight. He knew what that position meant for you, and without any other word he got into the car and drove away without caring if he ran over one of those ungrateful men.

“Breathe, baby. We're out, I'm taking you home. We're almost there. Steady breaths.”

He kept talking to you in an effort to ground you, but silent tears were already streaming down your face as you hyperventilated. You hated this, you hated messing up everything. As soon as you were home, Pedro got out of the car and ran to your side. After opening the door, he carefully took you in his arms as you clinged to him, still with uneven breaths. He took you to the living room and lowered both of you to the ground.

“y/n, let's breathe together, okay? Look” he said while taking your hands into his and clutching them into his chest. He breathed in and out slowly a couple of times, and you tried to imitate him, but it was very hard for you, which only got you more frustrated and anxious. “It's alright, don't push it. Slowly. There's no rush, I'm here with you. Now, I'm going to leave your side for a second” he said softly, and you let out a small whine. “It'll be just a moment, and I'll be right back, okay? It's alright, I promise.”

You slightly nodded, still shaking and breathing harshly. Pedro quickly got up and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, making his way back to you. He then sat in front of you and put it into your hands, holding them to your chest. Cold always helped you calm down.

“Meanwhile... Let's do 5-to-1, alright? Tell me 5 things you can see.”

After a small pause, you nodded and started looking around. “P-photos” you answered with a small shaky voice. “TV. Kitchen. F-fan. Bal- balcony. Shoes.”

“Good. Very good, baby. You're doing amazing” he said with a smile. “Now 4 things you can touch.”

You looked around and with a trembling hand you touched the rug. Then your pants. Then the sofa. And lastly the small coffee table that was in front of the sofa.

“That's good. Very good” he reassured you again. Positive responses helped you feel like you were a bit more in control. “Now three things you can hear.”

You breathed in and out shakily again, and closed your eyes for a moment. You could hear some faint music from the street, playing not too far away. “M- music.” Moving your head slowly, you heard the kitchen clock ticking. “Clock.” Pedro nodded and gave your hands a small squeeze. A breeze made the trees outside crunch. “Wind.”

“Perfect. That's very good, baby. You're doing great. Now can two things you can smell?”

You looked around again, trying to find anything that came into your ratio. You sniffed the air, and saw the abandoned leftover box in the middle of the room.

“F-food.” Pedro smiled at you and nodded. You looked at him with teary eyes, inhaled and then clutched his shirt. “You. Your- cologne.”

He couldn't stop his face softening or the loving look he gave you. He knew you were just saying it because he was the closest thing you could smell, but he couldn't help his heart from beating faster.

“Very good. Now the last one, something you can taste.”

You had calmed down a little, but after a few moments of looking around, your breath became hitched again. You couldn't find anything. Nothing. Not even a mint or some candy. Pedro saw how your thoughts started racing again, and his smile faded completely, panic briefly washing over him too.

“Okay, okay. Remember, slow breaths. Deep and slow, please.”

Your eyes didn't meet his, frantically looking for something that would complete the exercise. You had to complete it. It wasn't right. Pedro thought of every possible solution, but nothing came to mind. Until it did. But he didn't want to do it. It felt wrong, but he saw you start trembling again, he couldn't just leave you to suffer. He knew how important this cycle was to you.

“Oh, fuck this. I- I'm sorry” Pedro muttered while tenderly taking your face in his hands and bringing his lips to meet yours. Your entire body stopped shaking in shock as your eyes widened. You could taste his minty toothpaste along with your shared dinner. Without you noticing, your breath had become slower because of the air shortage. But Pedro noticed that, and he gently pulled back from the kiss. He slowly opened his eyes to meet your still widened ones. For what felt the longest time you two didn't say anything, and his thoughts were the ones that started to race now.

Fuck. I fucked up everything. Why did I even do that? Shit. I ruined it. Now she's going to leave and-

You left the ice pack on the floor, and leaning into him, you snuggled into his lap and put your head on his chest, hugging his waist with your arms. He did the same and held your head with one of his hands, resting his lips on top of it. Pedro was now the one with wide eyes.

What was he supposed to do now? What the hell did this even mean?

[over-the-moon-for-you]

Gabriel O'Hara - SFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is VERY affectionate. He wears his heart on his sleeve, constantly telling you how much he loves and cares about you. Not shy of PDA whatsoever, if anything, you probably have to tell him to dial it back a bit. (He does give the best hugs tho 🙈)

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Gabriel is the most loyal friend you'd ever meet. He's always ready to do anything you want to in a second's notice. Though you better be prepared to listen to all of his little ramblings bc this man LOVES to talk. He's a sweetheart though and is always there when you need him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

BRO LOVES CUDDLING!!! He loves the feeling of having you wrapped up in his arms after a long workday. He's pretty tall (i personally hc him at 6’4) and the right amount of toned, so you fit in his arms perfectly. Though he doesn't mind being cuddled by you either, especially when he's upset about something. He's prone to panic attacks, so being comforted in your arms really helps him come back down to reality.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He would honestly be more than happy to settle down with you! His dream is to one day own a house and have a little family of his own. He would probably bring up the idea to you, but won't push you into anything you aren't comfortable with.

In all honestly, this man can't cook. He truly does try, there are few dishes he can do that his mother had taught him, but other than that, he’s hopeless. Though to make up for it he is actually decent at baking. His favorite thing to make are snickerdoodle cookies :)

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he breaks up with you, you must have done something absolutely horrid to him because he tends to do everything in his power to try to make a relationship work, even if it might be a bit toxic.

If you were to break up with him, Gabri would be absolutely heartbroken. A flaw of his is that he gets attached so easily, so you breaking up with him would leave him totally devastated. He would do everything he could to try to make amends, but ultimately knows that this would be the end. He would overthink everything about the relationship for at least two or three weeks, wondering what he did wrong or more specifically, what was so wrong with him? (this is so sad please don't do this to him 🥺)

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I don't think it would take to long for Gabriel to know you were the one he wanted to marry. As stated before, he's extremely loyal, so once you two get together, he's ready for the long haul. He would probably propose after a year or two after the both of you start dating. If you'd prefer to wait longer into the relationship to get married, he wouldn't push you into it, but he may overthink your answer and get worried that you don’t see a future for the two of you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, Gabriel is such a sweet and kind man, not a bad bone in his body. He's never afraid to shower you with his affection. The roughest part about him would be his hands that are extremely calloused up from constantly working on inventions.

Gabriel is a very emotionally open guy. So, it's common he'll come to you and tell you how he's feeling, especially if he's upset. He overthinks constantly, which takes a drain on his own mental health. He definitely needs a lot of reassurance at the beginning of your relationship. (his past relationships had a huge impact on his trust issues)

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs!!! Hug this man!!! Will always accept or give a hug. He just loves physical contact in general. His hugs are always warm and comforting. He won't let go until you want him to.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He would def blurt it out within days of meeting you. He's a hopeless romantic and knows exactly what his heart wants. The minute he catches feelings, he will fall hard. If you see him the same way, he'll be over the moon and ready to spend the rest of his life by your side.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's the type of guy to say he doesn't get jealous easy and trusts his partner completely, but when he sees you getting a little too close with someone, he feels his stomach drop. If it's a onetime thing with that person, he would most likely get over it within a day or two, but if it becomes a constant thing, he will immediately begin to think you were losing interest in him and that it was his fault. It would end up with him calling you at the crack ass of dawn, his voice trembling a little as he asked you if you stilled loved him or not.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Gabriel's kisses are soft and sweet. He will kiss you anytime and anywhere. He does make an effort to not go to overboard when the two of you are in public, but once you to are alone. Oh, he's making sure there isn't an inch of you that hasn’t been touched by his lips.

He loves kissing your lips the most. The feeling of your lips on his always seem to make him weak at the knees each time without fail. (If you run your hands through his hair while you kiss him, he will literally melt into you)

He loves when you kiss his neck the most. To be more specific, when he's laying back on a couch or bed with you on top of him, your lips trailing kisses from his jaw down to his collarbone. He adores when you leave hickeys on his neck. Whenever he looks in the mirror and sees the red marks, it makes his heart flutter knowing you were the one that left them there. Plus, his scarfs usually cover them up pretty well so they're not noticeable to the public eye.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He is so good with children!! Gabriel absolutely adores kids with his entire heart. He'd be the type of person to make silly faces at babies when he sees them crying in attempt to cheer them up. He definitely would love the idea of having his own kids someday.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Gabri is not a morning person whatsoever. He will stay in bed as long as possible, usually convincing you to stay with him. You both end up being late to everything because of this. He just loves the feeling of the warm sun shining through the curtains and the both of you cuddled up, limbs intertwined with one another.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He absolutely has to cuddle with you to fall asleep, no exceptions. He doesn't really care about who the little or big spoon is, all that matters in the feeling of your bodies close together.

It is also common for him to get nightmares every now and then. For the most part your usually able to help him to fall back asleep quite quickly with some soothing words, but in other cases, he'll end up having a panic attack and will need a ton of comforting.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Oh, he does not wait to tell you everything about himself. He can ramble on and on, easily getting lost in his own thoughts. Gabriel just loves when someone shows interest in him and will gladly tell them anything they wanted to know. (This stems off of the fact his mother gave him an insane amount of attention as a child))

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It depends. For the most part he is probably the most laid-back person in his family (that’s not saying much). With that being said, once someone does push his buttons too far, he will snap, and this man can yell. It’s honestly a bit scary. He would never physically hurt anyone though.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

HE REMEBERS EVERYTHING!!! You mention a candy you like? Suddenly he has a small basket of every variety of that candy to exist waiting at your front door. You tell him your coffee order once? Will make sure to write it down in his notes so he would never mess it up. He's attentive and loves to be able to surprise you with your favorite things.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first night you spent at his apartment, the two of you had been messing around, playing some old love songs (think of everybody loves somebody or somethin' stupid). Jokingly, he asked you to dance with him and you accepted. The two of you ended up slow dancing in the middle his living room, the lights dim. He remembered staring into your eyes, adoration in his eyes. This was the moment he knew for a fact he was in love.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Gabriel is the right amount of protective. He won't forbid you from going out own your own or with your friends, all he asks is that you update him from time to time just so he knows you're doing okay. If he sees someone getting a bit too close for comfort to you and you are obviously uncomfortable, Gabriel will immediately swoop in a wrap his arm around you, giving the man a shit eating grin. If he's walking with you and hears someone catcall you? Will immediately respond as if they were towards him, thanking them with some silly remark, easily making whoever catcalled you embarrassed.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts his heart and soul into everything he does for you. He will actively always be looking for events to be able to take you to like concerts or fairs. If you'd prefer to stay in? He'd do his best to replicate a candlelight dinner in his apartment, scattering rose petals around and letting the room be filled lit only by candles. He'd also make sure to go to an Italian restaurant beforehand and get some entrees the two of you could share. (again, he can't cook but he's doing his best 🥺)

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

As mentioned earlier, he overthinks...a lot. Often will misinterpret situations, making his mind always come to the conclusion you would leave him like many others in his life have. This is more prominent in the earlier stages of the relationship. Once you've been together for a few years, he'll begin to ease up on those thoughts.

Attention whore !!! 💀💀 He will constantly try to get your attention in any way possible. Whether that means trying to impress you with his inventions, bringing you gifts, or simply just look at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. He will do anything to have your focus on him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Gabriel is very much into fashion. Won't leave the house unless he is completely satisfied with his outfits. Especially his scarfs!!! Literally the only other thing he loves almost as much as you.

Physically, Gabriel has up and down days. He does go to the gym when he gets the chance, which gives him more of a toned body. Though he obviously isn't anything compared the way nMiguel looks. He feels as though Miguel has the definition of a perfect body and it makes him feel a bit down about the way he looks. It gets to the point where he gets nervous for you to meet Miguel, scared that you'll think his brother is better looking and break up with him.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If he's gotten attached to you (which is most likely), yes. When he doesn't have you by his side anymore, it drains him mentally and physically. He's a dependent person, needing to have at least one person to be able to go to immediately when needed. He doesn't like the feeling of being completely alone. (bro was an absolute mess for MONTHS when he found out Miguel straight up left the universe without telling anyone)

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He loves shopping with you!!! It's one of his favorite things to do. You both could spend hours in the mall with one another, going to different stores and looking at clothes with each other. (he’s actually really good at styling you as well)

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Anyone who is just truly mean at heart. If someone is constantly snapping at him, telling him what to do, or just belittling him in general, that is a big no. Really all he wants is someone who will love him for just being who he is.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

HE STEALS ALL THE BLANKETS WHILE SLEEPING.

The two of you will always go to bed with the blankets covering the both of you perfectly, then when you awake, suddenly you can feel the air of the room hitting your back while Gabriel managed to wrap himself into all the blankets like a burrito. Then when you try to attempt to grab some of the blanket back, he’ll whine, subconsciously trying to keep the blankets on him. You literally have to shake him awake and only then will he hesitantly give you back your half of the cozy blanket.

[coolmayordamien]

A little Darkstache songfic for @willywarfy

Song is The Midnight Crew, Eddie Morton

"Dar-dar-Darkiplier," a monotonous, glitchy voice stammered tonelessly, breaking right through the entity's concentration. Dark scowled down at the paperwork that he had finally had a second to take a stab at, took a deep breath, and then trained the scowl on the android that was loitering in the doorway to his office.

"Wilford is ha-hav-having a malfunction," Google informed him, seeming completely unconcerned. "He is in the stud-d-dy, screaming and waving a gun-"

"Is anyone else in there with him?" Dark interrupted, hurriedly organizing the papers before him as he spoke. While screaming and waving guns around were honestly pretty typical behaviors for the man with the pink mustache, if Google said that the man was having a "malfunction", that could really only mean one thing.

"No one else was with him at the time," the android answered promptly, and Dark was relieved to know that Wil probably hadn't had much of an opportunity to hurt anyone in the midst of his crisis.

"I'm going up there. Don't let anyone else near that room until I say otherwise, do you understand?"

"I un-understand," Google nodded, his suspicious gaze following the grayscale man all the while. He wondered what Dark did to stop these attacks. It was probably something so horrifically violent that the android shuddered just thinking about it.

--

Dark heard Wilford before he saw the man, heard the bangs and crashes as it sounded like the madman was going out of his way to destroy the room that contained him. Heard the agonized cries, heard him scream in fear and anger and confusion as he tried to remember things that he wasn't supposed to remember, as he called out for friends that he would never see again, and for help that would never come.

Dark was going to have to do, instead.

He cautiously opened the door, observing the damage that had already been dealt. Discarded papers drifted through the air, gently fluttering down to land on a floor that was littered with shredded books and broken glass. It seemed that Wilford had shot out at least one window in his panic, and gotten almost all of the lamps.

Wilford, who had backed himself into the corner furthest from the door at Dark's arrival (the most secure position in the room, of course) and who was watching the entity with a sharp, unhinged gaze. His hands were shaking as he pointed a gun at his friend, his breathing rapid, his voice high as he rambled.

"Wh-who…Damien?" the hopeful note in his voice would have pierced right through Dark's heart, if he'd had one. It confirmed his suspicions about what kind of breakdown they were having here, though, and while it was one of Wilford's more emotional kinds, it was also the easiest to deal with.

"No, no, no, you're not Damien," the Colonel corrected himself, his grip on the gun tightening. "He doesn't look like…he's not…what are you?! What sort of awful place is this? First the robot, now a prime example of homo necrosis! I assure you, sir, that I am well up for the privilege of putting down a walking bag of bones such as yourself!"

The wild glint in his eyes became even sharper and more disturbing as his voice lowered with the intensity of his emotions.

Dark sighed lightly, hating what he was about to have to do. Wilford had better really appreciate him for this later.

He turned his back on the gun-toting lunatic as if he were completely unphased by him, humming under his breath as he began to unbutton his suit coat, hanging it primly over the back of the most intact chair.

"What the hell are you doing?" William cried, enraged. "Keep your damn clothes on, you fool! Tell me where my friends are! Tell me what you've done to them!"

Ignoring the questions completely, Dark said loudly, "I hate a moral coward."

The silence that followed his declaration was tense with shock and confusion, and that was enough to encourage the entity to continue, spinning on his heel as he offered his old friend a big, vaudeville smile.

"One who lacks a manly spark," the entity continued, pantomiming a challenge to fisticuffs as he loudly tapped a heel against the wooden floor.

"Are you out of your mind?" Wil demanded, lowering his gun. Dark ignored the irony of that question, an act that he decided was so damn altruistic that he probably deserved a medal.

"I just detest a man afraid to go home in the dark," he said cheerfully, trying to work up a bit of a song as he slowly made his way closer to his unstable companion.

"Well…I mean, don't we all?" the gunman agreed, unaware of the fact that he was holstering his weapon as he spoke.

"I always spend my evenings where there's women, wine, and song!" Dark sang happily, inching ever closer amidst his wide, friendly gestures. He was beyond pleased to see a flash of recognition in Wilford's suspicious eyes at the familiar old tune.

"But like a man…" Wil trailed off, confusion overtaking the fear and anger that had fueled him only moments before.

Delighted, Dark threw caution to the wind, gently tossing a friendly arm around his old pal's shoulders. "But like a man, I always bring my little wife along!"

The Colonel laughed; a lovely, hearty sound as he swooped Dark into a hug, the force of which threatened to crack the entity's spine like a twig. It was a nice feeling, that hug, but it wasn't a Wilford hug.

"Damy, you silly blighter, why didn't you just tell me that it was you in the first place?" William chortled, waving a condescending finger as he lectured, "I could have shot you!"

Before Dark could respond, Wil had him in his arms again, orchestrating the pair of them both in a silly, friendly, affectionate dance that didn't fit the tune or theme of that song at all, and it never had, and it didn't matter how many times Damien had complained about the awkwardness of trying to slow dance to a vaudeville tune, it had never mattered one whit to his fun-loving friend. This sort of thing was madness, after all.

"I'm a member of the midnight crew!" William laughed, spinning Dark quickly as the entity struggled to follow along.

"I'm a night owl-"

"And a wise bird too!"

Together they sang, breathless with laughter and dancing, "Home with the milk in the morning, singing the same old song!"

Chuckling, they collapsed into each other, holding on tightly as William tripped over the mess that he had caused, dragging the pair of them down into a giggling, teary-eyed pile. The hysteria bubbled up inside of them both, dragging the moment out so long that it exhausted Wil. Dark knew the exact moment that the emotions reached a crescendo in his friend, felt the difference in the grip the mustached man had on the entity's middle, heard the difference in the way that the two sides of his friend breathed, and knew that he had done his job.

"Dark?" Wilford asked softly, breathless with laughter from a joke that he didn't even remember being a part of. "What are we doing here? Isn't it…isn't it late? I thought that you were doing paperwork. And I was supposed to…to go to bed, right?"

That was exactly the case, and Dark finally let himself wonder what exactly had occurred during that process to set Wilford off. It didn't really matter right now, though. After he finally got his old friend to bed, he'd go over every inch of this room to see if anything in there could have possibly triggered Wil's memory.

"Nah," he said casually, forcing himself to his feet. "Early to bed and you'll miss all the fun!"

Eyebrows furrowed as he allowed the entity to help him to his feet, Wilford asked, "Is that from a song or something? It sounds a little familiar, but I'm not sure…"

Dark forced himself to laugh a little, reaching for his suit coat once again. "Just something that an old friend and I used to say. Come on. Let's get you something sweet, and then it's off to bed, I think."

Dark loved Wilford, he really did. Wouldn't trade him for the world. But it had been nice to spend a little time with his old friend.

[tonberry-yoda]

Can you make a fugo alphabet fluff? I love your works, I hope you have a great month <3 (Sorry for my poor choice of praise and english)

Fugo Fluff Alphabet

notes - first of all, thank you so much anon!! your english was great, so don't even worry!!! thanks for the request and for the lovely compliment! ive had so much fun with these fluff alphabets and wanna do them for every character LMFAO thanks again anon and have a wonderful week!! <3

based on this post

A CTIVITIES - WHAT DO THEY LIKE TO DO WITH THEIR S/O? HOW DO THEY SPEND THEIR FREE TIME WITH THEM?

He likes to have chill times with you. Nothing is more relaxing than sitting in the living room with you and just reading a book or something. He also loves getting dinner, but prefers taking it home and eating it in the backyard like a picnic.

B EAUTY - WHAT DO THEY ADMIRE ABOUT THEIR S/O? WHAT DO THEY THINK IS BEAUTIFUL ABOUT THEM?

Your intelligence. He is a super smart guy and it doesnt matter how smart you are, he will always admire your brain and how you think. Also, physically, probably your legs lol, idk i just see it

C OMFORT - HOW WOULD THEY HELP THEIR S/O WHEN THEY FEEL DOWN/HAVE A PANIC ATTACK ETC.?

This man has a lot of experience with his own panic attacks, so he would have to know how you need help first before he would be able to help at all. Before any of this, he would sit down and talk to you about how to help you in a tough situation. After that he would help in any way he can and also speak to you very lightly and kindly

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Somewhere comfortable where the two of you aren't stressed out. I feel like the one thing that is absolutely killing him is stress and knowing that you deal with stress too. He needs to know that you're doing okay and would love that to be the future between the two of you <3

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

You have to order his happy meal for him. I think we know the answer to this one. He may be a strong dude, but like, he's definitely the lil baby in the relationship

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

This man, as we know, has some anger issues. Because of this, when he gets pissed at you, he stays pissed at you for a while tbh. Like he isn't just angry at you but at himself and he feels like he can't recover from the argument. He just feels like an asshole who hurt an angels feelings. I think you would have to initiate the forgiveness if you aren't too upset. During the argument he would probably get way too pissed off and start shouting and then he realizes he fucked up and avoids you. Let him know that everything is fine and he will be better <3

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He is very grateful that you are here with him. You have helped him through a lot and to return that, he helps you through a lot. You have helped him realize new stuff in himself and even help him get over bridges he didn't even think he could cross. You are everything to him and he is so thankful for that <33333

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

If you don't know about him being/having been in the mafia, he would hide that from you. I don't think he wants you to know about the dangerous stuff he's seen. He also keeps his past a secret from you. Honestly, he keeps a lot from you, which you slowly pull out from him

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Oh, absolutely. You made him less angry and pent up. He had a lot of internal problems that affected him externally and you were able to help him through a lot of that

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

YES YES YES! Like I just feel like he'll get really self conscious when he sees you laughing or smiling with someone else. It's hard for him to be super confident, so seeing you around someone he thinks is better looking than him or something can really make him upset. To deal with it, he ignores it as best as possible and gets angy

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Oh hell yeah. I think at first, like the first kiss that you had after a nice dinner, he didn't know what to do. You kissed him and he didn't really know that there was a rule where he had to kiss back, so he was still as a statue. But after he got the hand of it, he is an AMAZING kisser. Very soft lips 10/10

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

I think the two of you were reading or something at the library and he passed you a note that said: I like you. We should hang out. Shortly after, the two of you started dating

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

tbh, I really don't know. I think the idea appeals to him, but at the same time, he really enjoys where you guys are. He would have to think about it a lot down the road. But if he were to propose, it would be in private and I think he would prefer to get eloped.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Simple stuff like honey or darling or dear, but all in Italian

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He smiles a lot more. Like especially around you. He just has a constant little smile on his lips and it's really cute. It's kind of obvious to others, especially close friends since he acts relatively different, which isn't a normal Fugo thing, so they totally make fun of him. To express his feelings, he always tells you how much he loves you and it really means a lot

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

PDA is a big no for him I think. He prefers kisses and stuff privately. The most he'll do is kiss you in a park or something, but never in public. Like holding hands is a sometimes thing, but yeah he really doesn't like showing off his relationship in public

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship.

Lots of care and understanding. He will give you space when you need it and always provide what you need when you need it

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

I don't really think he's romantic or creative in any of these aspects. I feel like he just treats the relationship as it is. Sure, he'll take you on dates, but it's never anything crazy. It's more calm than anything

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He is always there to help. He will drop anything to help you out. He is your biggest supporter because dreams to him are very important. So know that he's always got your back

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He is definitely more routine. He needs to have his day go the way he plans because it makes his life easier. It's nice though because you have become a part of his routine <3

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He is VERY understanding. He knows you very well, so he knows when something is up or when you need space or even when you need him by your side. He is more than caring and you don't even need to ask him for things, he'll just be there

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You definitely mean a lot to him, but sometimes, he will put the others like Bruno in front of you. They have gotten him out of the worst of stuff, so he definitely holds them on a pedestal, but if you understand, that makes him very happy

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He always smells really good so when you hug him, he gives off this lovely sweet smell that you can't get enough of. It's like strawberry shortcake and vanilla

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Not really. He prefers getting that kind of love from you, he won't really start any cuddles or anything

Y earning - How will they cope when they're missing their partner?

You are a big part of his routine, so when you're gone, he has to reorganize EVERYTHING and that pisses him off so much. It takes him a while to get back on track without eyebags, but eventually things for him will get back to normal until you come back.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He's not a huge risk taker, so no. If you don't want the relationship anymore, he will understand and that's that. He will fight for you and protect you at all costs for sure, but if you really feel like things are over, it will end

~~~~~

jjba masterlist (2) (3) | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated <3

~~~~~

[dipplinduo]

S&S D Chapter 15 thoughts:

1. THE BEACH EPISODE IS FINALLY HERE. I love how you described everyone's outfits for the beach party (Just when I thought Juliana couldn't get any prettier there than what I imagined she would be wearing that swimsuit /pos. The adeed details and Lacey's final touch to her look is chef's kiss 😚👌)

2. I am SO GLAD Carmine is there (with Ribombee too 👀) to help Kieran out of his panic attack. He can slowly take his time to tell her about what has been happening to him and that's some good progress for the Toxic Chain investigation. I'm all here for more sibling bonding XD

3. Drayton: "We can have sandwiches-"

Koraidon: "I have been summoned"

Paldea crew: *sigh* "here we go again"

4. Lacey, let poor Crispin finish his sentence please 😭😭😭 (he's trying to tell her she's pretty isn't it? 👀)

5. The ending though (I wonder whose round it is with Kieran up next...)

I was tempted to pull out that one reaction gif but I'll probably save that for next chapter (goodness knows how angstier can it get from here)

- ☕️

Bruuhhhh I fully just wanted to make her pretty after all the hype around her Ribombee swimsuit, glad it was a hit for you. :')

This is honestly such an important moment, and one where Carmine specifically should've been there over someone like Juliana for reasons

You knew we had to give it to 'em. I have not been writing much about Koraidon, so, I figured that was a good moment. xD

She's been so TSUNDERE LOL. Maybe she'll soften up soon. :)

Kieran boutta throw hands-

my goodness, I can't believe you'd ever think I'd go angsty on you! xD <33

[sequencefairy]

2, 41, 47 :D

2. First fic you clicked on this year

Had to go back 29 pages in my history to find out what this was:

Drowning in Memories - Wolfcry22

Layla and Steven decide to see an Egyptian mummy movie. However, when Marc becomes aware of a particular scene on the screen that involves a man drowning, he is transported back to his childhood. Steven desperately tries to calm Marc down from the inside, but when that doesn’t work, he takes control of the body and Layla does what she can to make sure that they are in a safe place. Panic attacks and flashbacks are difficult on the best of days even with a known trigger. All three have to learn a few hard truths about Marc’s trauma and how it still impacts him to a deep extent in present day.

41. Least popular pairing by fic updated this year you read this year

Gosh, hm, I bet it's this one:

Aftermath - Prof_Frink

Gena hadn't seen Marc, or any of the guys, in six months when Marc shows up and wants to talk. “I don’t mean to get into things that aren’t my business. But I’ve been blacking out again, and Jake won't talk to us. I wondered if he was talking to you. I keep finding myself on your block, but I don't remember going there.” “I don’t know if he told you, but just for the record, I didn’t leave him. He left me."

47. Shout out an incomplete fic you read this year

The Source of Darkness - shuofthewind

It's been nearly a year. Really, things should stop piling up. If they could stop doing that, you know, that would be great. But it's her life; when do things ever not implode?

[In which Darcy Lewis meets assassins, attempts to bake and fails, has the rug ripped out from under her feet, gets a new nickname, argues a lot, questions everything, snags a new toy, and starts wondering if she ought to look into a quiet life in Milwaukee. Though, you know. She'd probably be bored.]

AO3 Wrapped Asks!

[caitierose-butwithfics]

Birds Of A Feather

Description: After the events of Majesty, Jack decides it's time to move out of Nightswan tower, at least until they can defeat Nightswan for good. But when his final trip home turns more bitter then sweet, he finds help and sympathy in the most unlikely of places.

Authors Note: This is my first fic on this site, so please remember to reblog, like, and share your love. This particular fic is not based on any other preexisting fic. This is based on a prompt from the fabulous @anja-the-sane-sibling, so make sure to show them some love as well!! If you have a prompt you would like me to write about, make sure to message me!!! I also have a different blog, @caitlynnrosespn, which is my primary blog. (Side note: In advance, I would like to apologize for any missing special characters, since Tumblr is causing me issues :D)(Side note #2: If the panic attack scene reads a bit too much like Imperfect's panic attack scene, that's mostly because @thornkinglegacy is a terrific writer who perfectly wrote what being triggered looks like. I have PTSD, so I'm basing my scene off of actual triggers I experience:D)

VIEWER DISCRETION: There is discussion of child abuse, child neglect, and alcoholism. Characters are depicted to have scars on their persons, and one character experiences a trauma related panic attack. Mention of bruises, burns, and blood.

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

Jack paced his old room impatiently. Wanderlust and the others insisted on helping Jack pack up his things, despite the fact that Mother had not allowed him to own much more than the clothes on his back. They said that this day may be quite hard on his own, and he should have others to help him. In a way they were quite right.

Jack had never lived anywhere outside of the Tower; had never even ventured outside of Cygnus. All his life he had been deepened on Mother to live, depended on her to decide he was worth something enough to keep him alive. Now that the Tower was empty of all inhabitants, Jack thought that he could just survive there until he figured out a better living situation. But things were... strange here. Odd things kept happening to Jack. He could be going down the stairs, and almost be to the bottom when he would suddenly reappear at the top. Or when he tries to sleep, how the second he drifts off a million hands seems to appear out of nowhere and cling on to him. Only when he wakes up, the feeling disappears instantly. Jack couldn't remember the last time he actually slept.

Wanderlust had asked his father about it,and his father said that it was possible that they were just lingering effects of Mother's magic. She had managed to disturb the Flow of millions of Dancers, after all. But, he also said that there was a possibility that Mother knew Jack was back in the Tower, and was trying to reach him through her magic. He said that that might explain why Jack felt like millions of hands were trying to drag him away in his dreams. Because they might be trying to drag him back to her.

Either way, The Traveler had suggested that Jack live with him while they sort things out. Jack would be safe with them, he had said, since The Traveler already had extensive barriers against dark magic around his home. They were quite the powerful family, after all. Jack had, at first, rejected the offer. For one, he barely knew Wanderlust's family. For years Mother had told him that they were terrible people, and while Jack knew she was probably lying, years of conditioning does wonders on one's psyche. And for another, if they were truly good people, he didn't want to put them in harms way. The Traveler may be powerful, but Jack had seen his Mother's power too. Were these magical barriers truly enough to keep them all safe from Mother's magic?

But despite his protests, Wanderlust was persistent. He was the only reason Jack eventually agreed. He trusted the Prince, and if he genuinely thought this was a good plan, that Jack will trust him.

Almost as if thinking about him summoned him, a portal appeared behind Jack, and four giggling people stepped out. Wanderlust, with Sara, Brezziana, and Mihaly. Their good mood was almost enough to brighten Jack's dim room. Almost.

"Jack!" Brezziana was always the first one to rush forward and give him a huge hug. Ever since the battle with Mother, Brezziana took every opportunity to remind him that he was one of them, despite who his mother was.

"You are about twenty minutes late," Jack said with a small smile, bending down slightly to wrap his arms around the energetic Dancer.

"We would have been on time if Mihaly hadn't lost their earbuds!"

Mihaly stood, admiring the room, earbuds surely blasting music, completely oblivious to the new attention turned their way. They spun on one foot, suddenly realizing all eyes were turned on them. They removed one earbud, and sure enough music loudly blared out of it. "What?"

That was met with more laughter as Mihaly did their customary bow. Mihaly was not one for physical touch, which Jack appreciated. Sara, on the other hand, gave him a soft hug. She always seemed to understand him better than the others, treating him gently and giving him space when needed.

Lastly, Wanderlust stepped forward, giving him his signature bow with the biggest smile. Jack gave him a slight bow in response. He didn't really know what was the right way to respond to his greetings, but that always seemed to work alright.

Brezziana bit her lip, taking the room into consideration. "Is this your room Jack?"

"Always has been."

Brezziana touched one of the gray walls. "But it just seems so..."

"Lifeless? I believe that's the point."

His friends looked at him, shock, disbelief, and sympathy all toying with their features. They knew his life was far from pretty, but now being inside of his childhood room, everything he said about his childhood felt different. Jack looked down, suddenly ashamed. He had been careful not to share too much about his childhood. Had they seen too much already?

The silence seemed to stretch out forever before Wanderlust finally said, a bit too cheerfully, "I have an idea! How about me, Brezziana, and Mihaly stay here to pack up your room, and you and Sara go and see if there's anything around the Tower you would like to take with us?" Brezziana nodded eagerly, while Mihaly shared a small smile. Jack stood for a moment, scared to venture much past his bedroom door. Finally, he nodded. His mother kept many things from him in this Tower, and it would do him good to find them again.

Sara grabbed his hand and gently guided out of the room, where the others were already packing up anything they could find. Their laughter, and Brezziana's startled "Dios mio, Wanderlust! Who taught you to pack?" were soon nothing but echoes in the halls.

"So, where do you want to start?" Sara asked, inspecting the walls of the Tower. Jack stared straight ahead, thinking about everything that he could possibly want from his childhood home. His clothes, of course, maybe a few trinkets from his room, his ca-

Oh no. His cane.

"Shit!"

"What's wrong?"

"My cane. It's in my rehearsal room."

"Oh. Oh no."

The rehearsal room. The room where he spent every waking moment of his childhood. The room where his mom tortured him with endless hours of dancing, singing, and beatings if he was not perfect. Jack could feel the sting of her claws still, making deep cuts on his face and his arms.

"Jack? I could go and grab it for you."

He shook his head. No, that wouldn't do. Because then he would be left alone. And he couldn't be alone right now. He couldn't go back to his room either. That would worry the others, and they would panic more than Sara if they saw him like this. The only option was to press forward.

He moved, almost mechanically, towards that dreaded room. Sara followed at a safe distance, biting her lip nervously. She was unsure of what she should do, what would even help at this point.

Jack considered leaving it, but that wasn't an option either. It was left for him by his father, and one of the only things from Father that Mother actually let him have. He couldn't leave that behind.

He reached the room, breathing heavy. The mirrors, identical to the ones underneath the performance room, were reflecting back his panicked face. In, out. He tried to keep breathing as he entered the room, unwelcome memories pouring in. Memories of his mom stalking the doorway, watching him dance. Watching him continuously fail. Always there to remind him what the cost of failure was. Such painful reminders, they always were.

There. His cane was lying, neglected, in the middle of the room. He just had to grab it and get the fuck out of here. But he could barely breathe, his vision blurry. Sara called his name, distressed. She had been calling his name for a little while, but he couldn't hear.

He dropped to his knees suddenly, unable to go further. He pulled his knees close to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut so hard that he could see patterns in his visions.

"Again." Mother would demand, watching him fall to the floor in exhaustion, not moving to help him up again.

"I can't," He would breathe in exhaustion. It didn't matter if he was 8, or 12, or 15, or as of just recently, 18. That response always would get her moving. She would stand over him, waiting for him to get up on his own. But he never could. Exhausted, sleep deprived, and starved, Jack couldn't move. So Mother made him. She would grab him by the arm, or the collar of his shirt, or his throat, and force him back to his feet, her claws always so close to tearing his skin. Sometimes she would cut him, to make a point.

"Did I say you could practice until you couldn't?"

"No, Mother."

"So when did I say you could stop practicing?"

"Mother, I can't do much mo-" A hard smack to his face would always cut him off. Those claws would often times would cut deep into his skin as well, leaving it blue, black, and covered in blood.

"When, Jack, did I say you could stop practicing?"

"When it's perfect," he would whisper pitifully.

"And is it perfect."

"No, Mother."

"Then you will keep practicing. I don't care how long it takes, I don't care if you drop dead! It will be perfect!"

She would throw him to the ground like a ragdoll, and it would take all of his willpower to stand up and keep practicing.

Jack could feel each tiny little scar on his arms, each one of them from her. She had always shamed him for how easily his arms scared. If he was truly strong, she said, she wouldn't be able to hurt him as easily. But he wasn't strong, Mother would taunt. He was weak. Fragile. Nothing. A failure.

Even now, he could hear her voice yell at him for messing up once again. Jack. Jack. Jack! JACK!

"JACK! Can you hear me?"

Jack blinked in surprise. That wasn't Mother's voice. He looked up to a shocking display.

Sara sat on her jacket, directly across from him, palms up. She was so concerned, her eyes focused on him. But that was the least shocking thing about her.

This was the first time he had seen Sara without her jacket. Scars danced up her arms, mostly burns that looked like they were caused by a cigarette, but some cut scars as well.

It took a second for her to notice where his gaze was, but when she finally did, she put her hands down and instead thrust her arms towards Jack for inspection.

"These? They were caused by my father. He always had a hot temper, but when my mom left him and I when I was 10? He uh... he found his comfort in other things. Alcohol, mostly. And when he was drunk, his temper turned from hot to scorching. And I guess I looked a little too much like my mom when he was drunk, so he took all the anger directed at her out on me." She gave an empty chuckle, lowering her arms. "That's why I poured so much of myself into my job. Why I hid myself. Wanderlust taught me to live when he transported me here. You guys helped me heal."

Jack stared at her, shocked. He would have never guessed that he and Sara were so...similar. She knew his pain. Things made so much more sense now. She looked him in the eye and gave him a small smile.

"You don't have to hide what you went through Jack. You're not weak because of the things she put you through. You were vulnerable, and she took advantage of that. But she's gone. We are here for you, now." She reached out and gently held out his hand. "And you are safe now."

Jack stared at Sara, something building in him. Safe? He didn't think he deserved safety. Love. But maybe Sara was right. Maybe...

Jack couldn't help it as uncontrollable tears slid down his checks. Sara smiled sadly, and wrapped her arms around him gently as he wept quietly on her shoulder. It felt good. Years and years of pain, sadness, and broken trust all let out in a moment. Sara gently rubbed his back, reassuring and encouraging him to let it all out.

Minutes, who knows how many, passed before Jack finally sat back, taking a wavering deep breath. "We should go back before they start to worry."

"Of course."

"First, I should probably grab my ca-" Jack looked up from wiping his eyes, to see Sara standing, already holding his cane.

"You needed some space, so I thought I would grab it for you," Sara said with a smile as she offered him her hand.

He accepted with a similar smile, only ruined a tiny bit by his red rimmed eyes. "Good idea."

He held his cane in one hand, Sara's hand in another, as they walked together out of the room that held so much hurt, so much pain. But no longer did it hold any power over Jack.

"Sara?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you. Thank you for... well... thank you."

Sara met his eyes with a kind smile. "Anytime.

***

Back with the others, Wanderlust, Brezziana, and Mihaly had made quick work of Jack's room. Thankfully, the red in Jack's eyes had gone down. He will tell them everything, eventually, but not yet.

"You ready?" Wanderlust asked with the biggest smile on his face. The excitement he had over having a new roommate was almost palpable.

Jack took one last look at the childhood room. The room that was vacant of life, vacant of light. It hadn't changed much, they hadn't taken much. No longer would he have to dread sleeping in this barren room. He looked down at Sara, who had a reassuring smile on her face, and took a deep breath.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

And all together, he walked through the portal with his four friends, into new beginnings.