#I MISS THEM SO MUCH THEY HAVE GROWN SO MUCH

[lananiscorner]

Eh... this is not so much a "neurotypical" problem as it is a "general conflict management and de-escalation" problem, and it can have multiple reasons. Let's just say person A says person B did something wrong, B wants an explanation and A refuses to give one. This can be for any one of the following reasons:

A is used to good faith attempts at clarifying being met with bad faith/abusive/manipulative attempts to pick their logic apart and/or gaslight them by feigning ignorance/incompetence, and so has taken up a policy of "do not engage". This can be a generally good and healthy approach in many situations (e.g. someone hits on you at a bar, you tell them you're not interested, they ask you why not, you say they're not your type, they ask what exactly makes them not your type, etc. You are now already 2 levels deeper into this conversation than you ever wanted to be and feeling more gang-pressed into giving information, which is triggering your fight or flight instincts).

A is using this withholding of information as a means of emotional manipulation themselves, to keep B from properly articulating their own point/needs/wants/boundaries.

A doesn't quite understand the reasoning for why B is wrong themselves. This is common with social norms and behaviors, which are ingrained in most people at an age when they are too young to reason their way through them. Somebody in the notes mentioned the example of unspoken, nitty-gritty grammar rules, like how you would say "the big red truck" but not "the red big truck" and how to a non-native speaker this rule doesn't make sense. Sometimes the answer really is just "because" and nobody likes being grilled for information that they themselves don't have. It feels like being interrogated rather than having a conversation.

People who are good at something generally underestimate the knowledge/skill base of people who are not good at it. Y'all know that meme where the two scientists go "we have to be careful, most people probably only know X and maybe a bit of Y", where X and Y are things that nobody outside that field of study would know? This is the same thing. Sometimes people genuinely don't understand how specific you need them to be. Easy example: I grew in a culture that values punctuality. You show up to everything ideally 5-10 minutes before it starts. But I have one friend who absolutely hated that, who was constantly stressed out if I arrived at her place 5 minutes early, and I genuinely did not understand why this was such a problem for her and why she couldn't just prep for guests earlier (we had both grown up in this culture), until she explained to me in great detail how her mind would just use that extra time to find increasingly minute, procrastinating details to hyper focus on and lose track of time, giving me a few examples of such issues. That last bit was what was needed to make my brain go "oh, that's why, ok, I'll try to show up *shudders* 10 minutes late in the future".

They are low on spoons and don't have the time/energy needed to get into a longer conversation. This gets progressively worse the more introverted a person is.

Scenario 1, 3 and 4 are generally resolved fairly easily by being very upfront, but calm about it: "A, I like you and I want to do right by you, but I really, genuinely mean it when I say that I don't know what I did wrong. My brain is currently desperately trying to trace back every step that has happened and to find out what went wrong, and it can't, so clearly I'm missing some steps. Please explain it to me like you would explain it to some space alien that has just been dropped on Earth and has never been in situation X before, so I can do better next time."

At this point, if it's scenario 5 (no time/energy), Person A will usually say so (sometimes rudely, depending on how close they are to what Captain Awkward lovingly calls the Bitch Eating Crackers level of mental spoons exhaustion). This is a good point to ask " Okay, I understand. I'll ask some other time, when you have more time/energy if that's okay with you."

And if the answer you get then is some variation of "no it's fucking not, we're done talking about this ever", then you know that, at the very least, this person does not consider you important/worthwhile enough to set aside two minutes of their time to help you understand something, even when they have the time/energy.

And if you keep on running into this with the same person multiple times, then I'm sorry to say, it's likely scenario 2.

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 58. a second try

previous — master list — next

notes ; WE ARE FINALLY HERE. i can’t tell if it feels rushed but atp idec i’m just trying to get this out 😭✌🏽 POP DA MF APPLE JUICE GET THE FRICKING FIRE WORKS WE ARE GETTING LIT.

BONUS — 570 wc, just a little fun extra that i felt like writing 🫰🏽

you could feel the beating of your heart all the way in the back of you ear, it’s rhythmic patter at an abnormally fast rate as you nervously stood in front of donghyuck’s apartment door. a place that was very familiar to you once, but felt totally foreign now.

you wondered how it would all unfold, what the first few seconds of your interaction would go like. would he have a moment of realisation that maybe you weren’t worth his time? would you two even talk much? would everything just go back to normal after a month of not seeing each other? you were tempted to back out for a split second, rethinking this moment and reschedule your ‘date’ so you could mentally prepare yourself, even if you were the one who proposed it.

but the door opened, almost as if donghyuck knew you were there this whole time. with a slow pull, you were met with him, and the emotions washed over you like a wave. you could never forget what donghyuck looked like, you’re sure that an image of his face has been permanently scarred in your mind, serving as both a fond or traumatic reminder. the only change was the new jet black hair he wore, its length having grown by a little bit.

���i missed you.” were his first words, a bashful smile already stuck on his face that he couldn’t fight off. it was contagious, as soon enough you smiled back at him, unable to hide your joy. you missed him too, and you told him exactly that. “can i hug you?” donghyuck followed up, this time avoiding any eye contact.

the cuteness aggression you felt for him were put aside for a moment as you leaned forward and embraced the boy next door in a soft embrace, one which tightened as he pulled you closer. you got a whiff of his signature vanilla scent, one you wished to drown in by never letting go off him. but donghyuck already pulled away, retracting his arms back to his side.

“do you like the hair?” he asked with a shy smile sporting his face. you smiled again, nodding your head. you loved it. you loved everything about his look. and after seeing him again, you came to the conclusion that you just loved seeing donghyuck. “it’s a nice look.” you decided on keeping your answer simple, though your answer was enough for donghyuck to beam.

“thank you, it’s a new me. i got the website ready so let’s hurry up.” donghyuck motioned for you to follow him into his apartment. you followed the boy into his place and as you did, donghyuck’s words fully sunk in your head. they lingered as you watched the episodes, and they lingered even after you finished watching them all. looking to your side, you were met with donghyuck who’s head was slumped, having dozed off some time ago.

focusing on the newly dyed black hair, his words came back to mind. a new me. you couldn’t agree more with his simple statement as the hair brought a new identity to the boy you knew. it signified the start of something new, and new him, a new era, a new chance.

staring at his softened features that were in deep rest, you came to the conclusion that you truly were willing to take this new chance, and new him into your life.

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @hcvenue @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @junviadinho @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo

[wosospacegirl]

And they were roommates - part 2

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; reader might have a crush on Kyra ;)

Word count: 3.4k

| PART 1 HERE |

Over the next few days, Kyra and Y/n settle into a comfortable, domestic routine.

Kyra was the first to wake up each day. She went straight to Y/n’s room to check on her and give her her morning medication, along with a cup of black coffee.

Y/n didn’t like mornings, especially now with the heavy cast on her leg. Kyra, on the other hand, loved mornings, so she sat by Y/n’s bed and chatted for 20 minutes straight while Y/n nodded along to whatever Kyra was saying.

“—And that's how we’re beating Man United this weekend,” Kyra concluded after a long thought process about technical strategies that would lead the Gunners to yet another victory. “I mean, they can’t keep putting her as a winger, right?” Kyra turned to Y/n, waiting for her to nod again.

“How can you have so much to say at 7 am?” Y/n asked, hiding her face in her pillow.

“I just do, it’s a talent, you wouldn’t know it, Grumpy,” Kyra shrugged and threw herself on the bed next to Y/n, the sunlight hitting Kyra’s freckles.

Kyra was wearing tracksuit bottoms and an old, oversized t-shirt, she looked pretty, comfy, and very cuddly too.

“Will you come with me today?” Kyra asked, changing the subjects, caution in her voice.

“Where?” Y/n asked confused, her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t supposed to go to physiotherapy or the doctor for another two weeks.

“Training?” Kyra explained, holding her head with one hand as she rested her elbow on the mattress. “They miss you, the girls, I mean. You could go there for a few hours, talk to Alessia, Leah, Steph… I bet Win misses you too,”

“I’m not in the mood,” Y/n said, turning her back to Kyra. Y/n missed the girls, but it would be too upsetting to see them running around while she could barely stand on her own.

“You’ve said that the last three times, Y/n” Kyra sighed. “You haven’t left the house, not once, and you also won’t talk to anyone but me and your mom. That’s worrying. You can’t just wait for me to come home every day, you also need to do relaxing and fun things for yourself.” Y/n felt a pleasant pressure on her shoulder. It was Kyra’s hand.

You can’t just stay here in bed and rot, maybe you could start a new hobby! Painting, sudoku, I don’t know!””Kyra continued, using the serious tone she never used with Y/n. “You need to see people, see your friends, get some fresh air.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “And do what? Talk about how miserable I am all the time?” Y/n said bitterly.

Kyra didn’t understand.

She had never been seriously injured before, she didn’t know what it was like to just go to bed every day not knowing what the future held. Football was everything to Y/n. It was her passion, her hobby and her career. Ninety per cent of her friends were footballers themselves, her whole social circle revolved around football.

Without it, she was nothing Football’s been her thing since she was a kid. Y/n had grown up with a ball on her feet, and now it was gone, and she didn’t know if she would get it back. Right now, Y/n was nothing.

Kyra pressed her lips together and stared at the girl, trying to think of what to say.

“Go away please, I want to be alone,” Y/n muttered after the room had gone quiet.

“No,” Kyra said. “Let’s talk about this, let’s—”

“Go. Away.” Y/n snapped.

Y/n felt the shift in the mattress. Kyra wasn’t sitting on it anymore. “You can’t keep pushing people away, it’ll only hurt you even more,” Kyra said quietly. “You can’t let yourself go like that, you know how easy it is for us athletes to get depressed after an injury, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I’m not depressed, Kyra!” Y/n locked eyes with the other girl, anger slowly building in her chest. “I just don’t have anything! If I talk to the girls all I’ll think about is how they’re playing and I’m not.

“You don’t have anything?!” Kyra raised her voice. “What do you mean you have nothing? You’re not just your fucking leg, or your football—You’re a whole person! Just because you can’t play right now doesn’t mean you have no worth.”

Y/n remained silent as Kyra’s voice escalated. Kyra was starting to get angry with her. Kyra had never been angry with her before.

“You are injured! Your tibia split in two, of course, it’ll take some time to heal. Does that mean you have to stay in the house for the remaining months? Of course not!” Kyra’s face was flushed, and she was out of breath.

“Kyra, my whole life had been inside a pitch, I don’t know how the fuck to live without knowing if I’ll ever be in one again!” Y/n exploded, pointing at her cast “And this fucking leg hurts all the time, it’s always a reminder of how unhappy I am and how the world kept on moving while I just stay here!”

“But you don’t have to just stay here! You are the one who is avoiding the world, but it hasn’t stopped for you, it never has! Especially because you have people who care about you! You would know that if you would answered your phone when your friends called,” Kyra rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

“Why is it so hard for you to be kind and patient with yourself?” Kyra asked, looking genuinely confused, trying to find the answer to her question on Y/n’s face. “It’s so easy to treat you well, I don’t know why you find it so difficult.”

Kyra finally took a deep breath, and then another.

“Okay, I’m calm now. I’m sorry,” Kyra said, unclenching her fist. “I didn’t mean to get mad at you, I know you’re frustrated and angry right now. I just wish you’d be more compassionate with yourself and your body.

The room was silent.

“I’ll just… go then. I have to be at training in half an hour anyway,” Kyra took a step closer to where Y/n was lying, she dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. “Just don’t—rot in bed the whole day, ok? I’ll buy you some food and send it over at lunchtime so you can eat something other than crisps”.

Y/n felt her skin warm where Kyra had kissed her. She barely had time to process it before Kyra pulled away. “Okay, thank you,” Y/n whispered, she couldn’t help the blush creeping up her neck.

She should say something, she should say how sorry she was and how ungrateful she had been, Kyra didn’t complain about having to put up with her. Often Y/n felt that she didn’t deserve to have Kyra by her side and now was one of those times. She felt embarrassed by the way she just acted.

Y/n wasn’t someone who felt at ease with vulnerability. She didn’t normally let people see her at her lowest, except her closest friend, of course, but even now the thought of seeing them, of going back to Arsenal, even if for a few hours, felt excruciating.

It was as if life was mocking Y/n. Everyone’s life would go on, even if hers was frozen in time. Arsenal still had good and healthy athletes to train.

Kyra still had responsibilities to attend ttoY/n didn’t, not for the months ahead of her.

Eight months the doctor said, eight months until (and if) she could run. Would she be this bitter for that long? Was she going to stay frustrated with everything and everyone forever? Was she going to shut herself off from her teammates—her friends—if she didn’t heal the way she intended?

Change was a slow process, but Y/n decided to start it right now.

“Ky?” Y/n called.

“Yeah?”

“I’m being an idiot,” Y/n admitted.

Kyra smiled. “Yeah, you kind of are.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n apologized. Small steps.

“It’s fine, you are a lot meaner when you lose at UNO, it didn’t scare me.”

Both girls smiled at each other.

Kyra held no grudges; it was one of the things Y/n admired the most about her.

“But if you really want me to forgive you, you’ll let me do something,” Kyra added, mischievous in her voice.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “What?’

“You’ll see,” Kyra said before leaving the room. “I’ll be back around 3 pm, see you!”

Y/n heard the front door close, and now she was alone. Y/n thought she enjoyed being alone, but deep down she didn’t. She missed Kyra when she was away. The house no longer felt warm and comforting; instead; it felt cold and isolated.

Y/n thought about Kyra’s words; about her being kind to others and not to herself. When Beth and Viv tore their ACLs, Y/n committed herself to take their dogs on a walk every day, since the couple couldn’t walk.

When Vic got injured Y/n made sure she was left alone during the physio sessions. When Leah also tore her ACL she made sure to call her every day to see how she was doing; Leah, unlike Y/n, answered her calls.

Y/n had so much love and support around her. She needed it to allow herself to receive it.

Y/n looked around her room. It felt strange now. Before her surgery, she had thought the room was rather cosy, with its green walls and light wooden furniture, but now it felt like a prison.

Maybe Kyra would agree to put on a mattress in the living room and make it into a bed. Then both girls could just sleep there, and watch some films. It would probably bring Y/n some comfort.

..

Hours later Kyra came back from training wearing a black kit. Her hair was in a ponytail, with grass and dirt on it. Y/n wasn’t sure if it was because of their fight earlier, but Kyra seemed different somehow . Even though Kyra was all dirty, y/n couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked. She realised she hadn’t seen Kyra with her hair in a ponytail before, she always wore it in a bun. It was nice, maybe the new hairstyle was the reason why Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off of her.

Cute, Kyra is cute.

She has always been cute, of course, but in the last few days, she looked even prettier. It’s okay to think your friends are cute. It was normal. Y/n thought to herself as Kyra bent down to take out her shoes, the black legging hugging her body. The book Y/n had in hand long forgotten.

Hot. Y/n thought. She was hot.

Maybe it wasn’t okay to think your friends were hot.

“Sorry?” Kyra asked turning to face Y/n.

Y/n widened her eyes. “What? Y/n said, her cheeks flushed. Fuck, had she said that out loud? And why did she sound so defensive? Chill out. “I didn’t say anything., she said, in a calmer tone, closing her book.

“Yes, you did,” Kyra insisted, looking at her with a smile. She let her hair out of the ponytail, letting it fall over her shoulder.

“Nop! You’re going mad, I’m afraid.” Y/n asserted, chin up.

“It must be all the time we spend together, then” Kyra raised a brow.

A lot of time together, indeed.

“Wait, is that a book? I haven’t seen you with a book for a while, I’m proud you still know your letters.” Kyra continued, a smirk on her face

Kyra was right, thought. With football and national camps, she hadn’t had time to read. It had been embarrassing years since she picked up a book. But now she had time, so she just took advantage of it.

“Haha you’re so funny,” Y/n said dryly. “You told me to do something nice for myself, so I decided to read this book I had lying around,” Y/n said, proudly.

Kyra looked dramatically surprised. “Wow, you actually listened to me? Did something happen while I was gone? Did you fall? Oh, you might have brain haemorrhage!”

“The ability you have to turn a normal conversation into a sarcastic one will always blow my mind,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.

“Good thing I love to blow your mind,” Kyra said before realizing the double meaning of what she just said.

The girls stared at each other.

“Okay that was awkward,” Kyra mumbled, blushing. “I mean it like—”

Y/n laughed, thinking it was cute how embarrassed Kyra looked. Usually, Kyra was the one who put people in awkward situations.

“It’s all right, I got what you meant,” Y/n said, offering a small smile. “So—” She changed the subject, not wanting Kyra to feel uncomfortable. “What was that thing you wanted me to do so you can forgive me?”

Kyra looked at her watch. “You won’t have to do anything. But they will be here soon.”

Y/n frowned slightly. “Did you get that line from some horror film? Who the hell are they?”

Kyra rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun, I’m trying to be mysterious here”.

“You sound suspicious, not mysterious!”

“Oh, shut up, just sit there and look pretty, no more questions, please.”

Y/n welcomed the compliment “Why, because you won’t be able not to tell me?” She challenged.

Kyra was the worst secret keeper she had ever known.

“You know me so well actually!” Kyra said. “Stop asking questions. I’m going to take a shower, but I’ll be right back,” Kyra said before heading upstairs.

Don’t go. Y/n almost said. Almost begged her to keep that kit on so Y/n could just look at her for a few moments.

The thing was: Y/n got used to having Kyra around, not just because she needed Kyra’s help to get things done, but because she just…appreciated her presence.

Y/n was always bored to tears while Kyra was away for training or a match day, so when Kyra came home, Y/n wanted her all to herself. Which was a bit strange.

Kyra Cooney-Cross was making Y/n think of very, very weird things. She wasn’t necessarily upset about it, though.

Minutes later Kyra stepped out of the shower, wearing sweatpants and an Arsenal hoodie. Y/n welcomed the sight more than she’d ever admit. Kyra was pretty, prettier than yesterday and the day before that.

Was Y/n suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning? Could that be the reason she was fancying Kyra? As it genuinely finding her attractive and not a bets mate type of way?

Kyra was attractive, of course. But Y/n hadn’t realised just how much it messed with her mind, and mostly her body. Kyra was her friend. Not as in a friends-with-benefits thing, but oh they could be, Y/n would be happy about that.

Kyra moved in to help me out, that’s all. She doesn’t like me that way, and that’s fine. Totally fine. Y/n bit her nails, trying to convince herself.

Before Y/n could spiral any further, Kyra clapped her hands and told Y/n to get ready, because apparently, the visitors they were having over were about to arrive.

An hour later Alessia and Leah stopped by with a warm lasagna on Leah’s hands.

It turned out that Kyra was only forgiving Y/n if she agreed to meet some of their friends and socialise for a few hours. “It’ll do you good” Kyra had said.d

“Hey, pest,” Leah greeted Kyra at the door. “How’s your pest doing? She hasn’t been answering mine or Lessie’s messages for a while now, is she dead? Did you kill her?”

“Well good evening to you too, Leah,” Kyra said ironically, letting both Leah and Alessia in, after kissing Alessia on the cheek.

“Why can’t you be like Alessia, she is so nice!” Kyra pouted, pointing at the blonde girl, “She doesn’t call me a pest or anything.”

Leah laughed and handed Kyra the lasagna. “Lessie girl is too nice to ever tell you the truth.”

Kyra and Leah continued their bickering while Alessia made herself at home. The girl was very familiar with Y/n’s house, having spent many film night’s here with Y/n and Kyra before Y/n’s injury.

Alessia went into the living room, where she found Y/n sitting on the couch, crutches propped up to the side.

“Less” y/n said cheerfully.

“Hey sweetie, how are you doing?” Alessia sat by Y/n’s side, hugging her. “God, I missed you so much, you have no idea.”

Y/n smiled and leaned further into Alessia’s embrace. “I missed you too, I feel like dying every time Kyra goes to training and I have to stay here by myself., Y/n confessed.

“Oh, so you miss me when I’m away. That is so lovely to hear!” Kyra's mischievous voice filled the living room as the girl elbowed Leah, “See, I told you she wasn’t bored of me yet.”

“Take me with you, Less, please.” Y/n playfully whispered in Alessia’s ear before the girl’s body was replaced by a taller and leaner one.

Leah hugged Y/n and patted her back before lightly smacking the top of her head.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Y/n whined, pouting.

“Me, Beth, Less, Kim—we’ve all been texting you non-stop, and you won’t text us back!” Leah scolded. “We’re not just your teammates, we’re your friends, in case you forgot!”

“Tough love. Told you.” Kyra chimed in from the corner of the room.

“Shut up, Kyra,” Leah and Y/n said in unison.

Y/n kept her eyes down, feeling a little embarrassed. Leah wasn’t wrong, though. Over the past week, she’d only been texting two people: her mom—because otherwise, she’d probably sent the police down; and Kyra—so she could pick up some snacks for Y/n on her way home.

“I know being injured is hard, but you can’t isolate yourself, especially form us!” Leah continued with a gentle reprimand. “You’re only going to feel worse.”

Leah pointed at Alessia, who was now standing next to Kyra. “Lessie told me you didn’t laugh at the memes she sent you! It’s Less, mate—you can’t make Lessie sad.”

If Y/n wasn’t being lectured by her captain, she would’ve laughed at how Leah was using Alessia’s sweetheart personally to make Y/n feel remorse about being a bad friend.

“Also,” Leah continued, now turning to Kyra. “Can you imagine how hard it is to rely on someone like Kyra for updates? Yesterday, she thought it’d be funny to tell Steph one of your bone screws had come loose.”

Y/n snapped her head towards Kyra, who suddenly looked like a kid caught red-handed. “I didn’t even get screws in my surgery! The doctor used locking compression plates instead!” Y/n argued.

“Well, you tell that to Steph,” Leah said dryly. “She cried and said we should call the surgeon responsible for letting you leave the hospital with a loose screw in your leg before Kyra finally told her she was just joking and that you were fine at home.”

“I didn’t think she would actually believe it,” Kyra winced, looking away, a small blush crept onto her cheeks.

“Steph got back at Kyra, don’t worry, Y/n,” Alessia added smiling. “Kyra is now responsible for walking Win every day before training.”

“I hate walking,” Kyra mumbled.

“Should’ve thought of that before messing with Steph,” Leah smirked.

“I was just trying to lighten the mood!” Kyra groaned.

“You don’t always have to fix things with jokes,” Y/n said smiling. “But I appreciate you are—at some point— giving updates to the girls. Still, leave that to me, I’ll start texting you guys back. I am sorry” Y/n apologized, glancing at Leah and Alessia.

“It’s all right kid, we’ve all been there, injuries bring out the worst in us,” Leah said, patting Y/n’s shoulder. “Now can we please eat the lasagna Lessie has made us? I’m starving!”

“You made your lasagna?” Y/n asked, her mouth-watering.

“Sure did. I know it’s your favourite,” Alessia said with a wink.

“May you be blessed for all eternity, Less,” Y/n said with an utmost stone face. “It’s been days since I’ve had good food.”

Kyra helped Y/n with her crutches before asking, a firm hand on her lower back. “Days? I’ve been making nutritious meals for us since you got back from the hospital!”

“Putting frozen pizza in the oven isn’t ‘making nutritious meals,’” Y/n teased, accepting Alessia’s hand as she sat down on the dining chair.

“I’m trying my best here,” Kyra huffed, crossing her arms.

Y/n leaned in, pressing a kiss to Kyra’s cheek. “Yeah, Yeah, I know. And I appreciate it very much.” She smiled.” Now let’s eat before Leah passes out from hunger.”

..

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

Tell me if you would like to read any special scene with Kyra and reader!

Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

[queenjulia11]

The scene with Dorian’s mom. God. I love the way Matt plays parents of all kinds, but this was one of his best if you ask me. We learn so much about her just in her introduction.

This woman is a public-facing figure who very recently lost a child, and you can see it on her face right away when Matt plays her. That neutral expression of having to do a mundane task like making tea, because for some fucking reason the world keeps turning even when you’re in the worst pain imaginable. And then she sees her other son who ran away and has been missing for almost a year, and she is immediately overcome with relief and joy just to see him safe again. She doesn’t blame him or tell him she’s been worried sick. She’s just so happy to see him again.

And of course she says no when Dorian asks her if she hates him. Because he’s her baby, there’s no universe where she could ever hate him. But I really appreciate how she doesn’t go on a whole thing like “oh my gosh, sweetheart, of course not, it wasn’t your fault, etc.” Because even though all of that is definitely true, she knows it’s not what Dorian needs to hear right now. He won’t believe it.

She just says “no.” She just takes the weight off of his shoulders and gives him space to break in a safe, comfortable place.

And Dorian; sweet, noble, anxiety-ridden Dorian, who has been putting others before himself and pushing his emotions and grief all the way down because of more important work for so long, finally has the time to truly mourn his brother.

And his mother just holds him. No one else is here but the two of them. He gets to be her baby again for just a moment. She is so proud, and so sorry. She wishes she could’ve done more for him. But she is doing the one thing she knows she can do to help better than anyone else: and that is hold her son until he falls asleep in her arms, just like he did when he was small.

There’s nothing like a good, long cry when you’ve been needing one for a long time. It opens you up to so much. I really appreciate how Robbie shows that: how Dorian is crying through Orym’s whole speech to him, even if it’s a happy moment. It really shows how safe he feels with Orym now that he can just let it go. I love how Dorian says “yes” before Orym has even asked the question because he doesn’t feel guilty for wanting things anymore. I love how he asks if they can take it slow because it still hurts too much to be happy. I love how he kisses Orym, and how he lets Orym kiss him.

This character has grown so dramatically over the years, and it’s been a spectacular thing to witness. I’m so happy Dorian feels comfortable enough to live as himself now with the people he loves, and how he continues to exist in this beautiful world despite all the harshness he’s faced within it. I’m so happy he gets to heal, as messy and slow as it will inevitably be.

Fair winds, Dorian Storm. 💙

[izels-writing]

j. potter — how forever feels! [2/?]

Pairing: james potter x fem!hopelessromantic!reader

Summary: the stars have aligned and you and james’ futures have aligned.

Warning: fake dating trope!!, socially anxious reader, slightly ooc james, slightly teeniest bit rushed but not rlly, LET ME KNOW IF I MISS SOMETHING!!

a/n: sorry for the slow updates my loves, i had a family member pass. but here i am and here’s part 2!!

TAGLIST: @hisparentsgallerryy

let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

it had been a few weeks since you and james had made your deal. so far, all the two of you had really accomplished was everyone thinking james needed help with herbology and muggle studies—which, truthfully, he did.

"i feel like it's been long enough," james commented as he followed you around the library. you were currently choosing out books to help him actually study, while he carried most of the books.

"yeah, i suppose it has," you shrugged. "better now then never,"

"then," he grinned, putting the books down on a nearby table. "y/n, will you do me the honor of being my fake girlfriend?" he asked, getting down on one knee.

"i absolutely will," you grinned, placing a hand on his cheek. he noticed someone nearby and subtly pointed it out to you. you looked briefly and subtly and noticed carlota wilkins, the school gossip, watching you both—though she didn't seem to be in earshot.

"perfect timing," you smiled. like you two had discussed, he leaned close and cupped your face, covering where your lips would actually be touching. but like he had agreed, he pretended to kiss your lips and actually kissed your cheek. you both smiled adoringly at each other when you pulled away, looking to see that carlota had quickly scurried off.

"so, how should we do this? you'll walk me to classes, wait for me outside? have meals together?" you whispered. he nodded.

"and, with any luck, news of our passionate, bookish love story will have circulated the castle by then," he smirked at you. he grabbed the books you had picked out and both of you walked back to the table where all your stuff had been laid out.

after an hour of studying, you two decided to head for dinner. as far as you were aware, nothing had been around the school. matter of fact, you were sure this dinner was the first time many would see you and james even interact.

"hold my hand," he whispered to you, holding out his hand. you gripped his hand, finding it slightly bigger than yours and much softer. it was clear the boy hadnt grown calluses from quidditch, and if he had, he took care well.

he intertwined your hands, walking close to you as you two conversed normally. as the weeks had passed, you found you actually enjoyed the boy's company—even despite his stark difference in personality to you.

"do you want to do the thing you mentioned?" he asked before you entered the great hall.

"what thing?" you asked dumbfounded.

"that thing with the cleaning my glasses," he reminded.

you'd mentioned it so long ago, you didn't realize he'd remember it. in fact, you were sure at the time that he wasn't even listening.

you smiled. "yes, please," you pleaded.

"fine, we'll do it. but you better not dirty them," he warned jokingly.

"i'm not sure i could do any worse than they are now," you replied sarcastically.

"think your funny, do you?" he asked with a playful glare.

"i think i'm hilarious," you replied with a grin.

as you walked into the great hall, hands intertwined, it caught the attention of many near you. it lead to various whispers circulating the great hall, and for a moment, you almost felt embarrassed. that was until you noticed james and saw he wasn't looking at them, he was looking at you, expecting you to do what the two of you had planned.

"i feel weird now," you whispered.

"don't pay any mind to them, just do it," he encouraged.

you nodded with a small smile and grabbed his glasses, cleaning them briefly on your shirt. as you looked through them to judge the cleanness, you realized how bad james' eyesight really was.

"merlin, you're as blind as a bat," you blurted quietly.

"how romantic," he replied lowly. you rolled your eyes playfully.

once you seemed it clean enough, you slid the glasses back onto his face gently and fixed his hair. unbeknownst to you, james struggled to not lean into your soft touch. it was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

then he did something spontaneous, but not entirely a bad idea. he wrapped his arms around your waist in a brief  embrace and kissed your cheek. caught off guard, you laughed happily.

"good idea," you mumbled to him, staring into his eyes to really sell the adoring, cheesy feel of the new relationship. as far as anyone knew, this could've been going on for some time.

then, you and james made your way over to his friends. you'd only really met them once before, sharing a couple notes of conversation at a party—mostly with remus. before you could sit down, you told james you'd be back and ran off to explain to your friends—benjamin and b/f/n.

"hey guys, sorry, i'm having dinner with james today. but i'll sit with you guys tomorrow at breakfast," you smiled softly.

“sounds good!” your best friend smiled. but benjamin was frowning.

“you always sit with us for dinner? since when are you and potter a thing?” benjamin asked pointedly.

“well, it sorta just happened,” you shrugged. “he received my letter and we started talking and, well, the rest is history,”

“who knew you had a hard on for the gryffindor king of quidditch?” your best friend teased. “how far have you two gotten? have you kissed?!”

“no, we’re taking things slow, and if we do kiss, it will be private,” you reminded her.

“ugh, you’re not fun,” she chuckled. “very well, go have dinner with your boy toy, i’ll see you at the dorms,”

you nodded and walked off with a small smile, ignoring benjamin’s frown and glaring at james. what did he care? he wasn’t your boyfriend, much less your keeper. you quickly made your way over to james, who scooted to make a place beside him. he wrapped an arm around your waist and smiled at you before turning to his friends.

“lads, this is my girlfriend, y/n,” james smiled. “y/n, this is remus, sirius, and peter,”

they all looked confused but not surprised. james had mentioned you loads of times before, considering you were ‘tutoring him’. they just weren’t sure when that blossomed into this relationship.

“it’s nice to meet you all, i’ve heard a lot about you,” you smiled, extending your hand to each of them.

“nice to meet you too,” remus smiled, being the first to shake your hand. sirius and peter followed suit with a smile.

you smiled. “is it alright if i sit with you? i know it’s a bit unexpected,” you asked, though you knew the answer.

“any girlfriend of james’ is a friend of ours,” peter replied kindly.

“but just so you know, i was here first and you are not taking our date nights,” sirius said playfully.

you nodded. “absolutely, i know my place,” you joked back.

“perfect,” sirius winked.

——

a month had passed since you and james had officially revealed your relationship to the school. many different students had come up to you, striking a conversation as though you were long time friends, mainly because they were acquaintances of james. those who didn’t come up to talk to you—they just stared. it was nerve wracking to say the least.

on the brighter side, you were becoming much closer friends with james’ friends.

“no! there’s no way you actually believe that!” you laughed, shaking your head at sirius.

“think about it! eugenia jenkins has to be a secret muggle!” sirius replied.

“remus, please tell me you don’t actually entertain this,” you laughed.

“i stopped listening to sirius a long time ago, i just nod and say, ‘yes, love,’” remus grinned.

“you two are unbelievable,” sirius pouted.

“so, james, first game on saturday, how are we feeling?” peter asked, rolling his eyes at you and sirius’ debate on conspiracy theories playfully.

james cleared his throat, looking away from where he was staring—which was directly at a redhead with piercing emerald eyes—and looked at peter. he sighed.

“nervous as hell, i mean this is my first game as captain—what if my team screws up?” he confessed to you all.

“i’m sure you’ll do fine,” you replied kindly. “you’re one of the best quidditch players ever,”

“and she’s not just saying that because she’s your girlfriend,” remus interjected.

“no, i’m not,” you laughed, forgetting momentarily that james’ friends actually believed you were together. “you give your all to these games, you’ll do perfectly,”

“thank you, y/n,” he grinned. he then glanced around, both of you noticing that lily’s eyes had wandered to the both of you, and kissed your cheek.

peter scrunched his nose. “ew, keep it in your pants, potter,”

you and james laughed.

——

the first game had finally arrived and you felt like an idiot. it wasn’t that you felt embarrassed about james, there was nothing to be embarrassed about—he was your ‘boyfriend’. however, public displays of affection were not your thing. much less anything that could draw attention to you in general.

you put your hair up in a half-up do, perfecting the stray hairs and fixing your makeup thousands of times. then you turned around, picking up the old jersey james had lent you and slipping it on over your long sleeve shirt. it fit slightly baggy, but not overly big. you turned, your back facing the mirror as you glanced at the letters sprawled across the back with the number 07 below it.

“ooooo! you look so cute!” your best friend exclaimed as she walked into your shared dorm. she smiled happily at the sight of your wearing the jersey.

“thank you,” you chuckled, your cheeks heating up to a light pink. “it isn’t too much?”

“no! are you kidding?! you look like a supportive girlfriend,” your best friend encouraged. “benjamin would never do anything like that for me,”

your best friend was also on the quidditch team, but benjamin had never worn her jersey as he found it embarrassing. he and your best friend had also been having issues for the last two weeks, about what, you weren’t sure. your best friend wasn’t ready to share it with you yet and you weren’t going to push.

“how is that going by the way?” you asked, smiling gently at her.

“it’s fine, just a rough patch i guess,” she shrugged. “anyway, you should get down to the pitch, i heard lily evans is going down to give the team cookies she baked,”

“okay?” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

your best friend gave you a bewildered look. “you haven’t heard?! she has a crush on james! she’s going to try to seduce your man—with cookies!”

you then remembered, you and james are supposed to be dating. except it wasn’t that hard to remember, because when she mentioned the crush lily had on james—for a split moment, you felt jealously pull at your heart strings.

“well i suppose i should wish him luck before the game,” you nodded, before grabbing your gift for james and heading out the door.

it had been a spontaneous buy, seeing it in the daily prophet and noticing the way james kept looking at it. you decided, as a fake girlfriend, maybe it’d be a nice gesture to buy him something he’d like.

within minutes you had reached the quidditch locker room, finding the entrance much easier than you’d expected. you quickly entered, faced with different boys and girls changing. thankfully, none seemed to be annoyed with your presence—just indifferent.

you spotted lily by the corner of the room, waiting for everyone to finish up changing—noticing that she was subtly ogling james as he changed his shirt. you weren’t entirely sure what to do. james wanted lily’s attention, so what do you do now that he has it?

but, you did still have a gift for him…

“hey, j,” you smiled, walking over to him. he smiled at you, and for the first time ever, he didn’t check to see if lily was around—he just kissed your cheek.

“hello, pretty lady,” he grinned. “what’re you doing here?”

“just wishing you luck,” you replied with a small smile. “and i brought you something,”

you held out the small box to him, waiting for him to take it. he did and smiled, looking confused as he opened it, but when he did he smiled widely. as he pulled the broomstick pendant of the box, he marveled at it.

“wow, this is…incredible, thank you,” he whispered, pulling you in for a hug—forgetting that he was still shirtless. you didn’t mind.

you hugged him back and smiled, “of course. i know you’ve been talking about wanting a lucky charm, i figured this could be it,”

“thank you, i’ve never had anyone do something like this before,” james grinned.

“it’s what friends do,” you whispered in his ear, ruffling his hair. his smile faltered a bit before nodding.

“of course,” he chuckled. except you could feel that something in him had changed.

“you alright?” you asked.

“yeah just nervous i suppose,” he chuckled. “but i hope my girl will be in the stands watching me,”

“you know it,” you smiled, punching his arm playfully.

“i see you have the jersey on, looks cute on you—I don’t know anyone who could wear it as nicely as you,” he complimented. “course, except for me,”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “thank you, i just feel weird. like i’m drawing attention to myself,”

“attention you’ve drawn to yourself is the best kind to receive,” he grinned. “alright, i’ll see you after the game i have to give my pep talk now,”

“alright, see you,” you smiled. and before you could turn, he grabbed your wrist and kissed your cheek again, leading for you in turn to kiss him back on the cheek.

“you’re going to do great,” you reminded, placing a hand on his cheek before finally leaving the locker rooms.

with a big smile on your face.

[fanfic-obsessed]

A mating of the soul

Here is another one that requires some careful build up beforehand. It has been on my mind for a while and I think it has finally percolated enough to release into the wild to find its forever home. 

As always, ignore any part of canon that contradicts this, for I certainly am.

So this one is going to take some necessary world building facts, then some world building cultural implications, and finally some actual build up to get to the scenes in my head.  Buckle in folks, the ride is about to begin. 

World building Facts

Soulmates: Soulmates exist, with all the regular mythology and usage as in our world (the universe is saying that we should be together).  However the reality is much different.  Soulmates are two or more people who make a vow during a highly specific ritual that carries over through every lifetime after (This relationship can be platonic, familial, romantic, even adversarial).  This ritual has been lost since before any writing was invented, no one can even be sure that this ritual originated on earth. Part of the reason for that is as part of the ritual itself, the participants sacrifice their knowledge of how to do the ritual. 

Getting down to the specifics, in the initial ritual all the participants (2 or more people) make a vow of some kind. This vow is unique to the pair or group, and in making this vow there is a mystical bond created between the participants, making them soulmates in that life and every life after.  In every life after the soulmates will find each other, and know each other (though specific memories of those previous lives will be of the feelings rather than the events), and they have a choice. They may make the vow, unchanged since it was first made, again reaffirming the bond for that lifetime. They may choose to stay connected but not reaffirm the vow for that lifetime (for instance if they met each other late in that life and one or all the partners have other commitments for the lifetime that mean they cannot keep the vow). They may also choose to dissolve the bonding entirely, painlessly. 

Should the soulmates reaffirm the vow, and one of the soulmates breaks that vow in that lifetime, a phenomenon called bondrot occurs. Bondrot is excruciating pain for the soulmates that did not break their vow, the magic of the ritual trying to encourage the complete shattering of the bond. Should all soulmates in a bond break the vow, not only is the bond forever broken but the former soulmates will live with an unspecified pain of something missing, in every life thereafter.

Magic: A quick note about magic in this universe. Magic functions a bit like chemistry or medication, in that different magic can mix and have strange reactions to each other. Any magic user above rank amateur (like any doctor worth their license) will not cast magic on a person where they do not know all the magic affecting them. 

For the purposes of this, the Lazarus Pit counts as magic. So does the Soulmate Ritual, no matter how many lifetimes ago the ritual was cast. 

World Building Cultural implications  

Now this next bit are not actual facts. However there is a culture that has grown up around these reincarnated soulmates. Even though most do not actually have solid memories of their past lives, they do start to recognize each other through the centuries.  Enough that in the past 200 years or so, there has been a small town of soulmates that has sprung up with enough magic that it is not tied to any one place but is accessible from all over the world. One pair of soulmates in this town have figured out how to bring forward more of the knowledge they have gained about Soulmates over their many lifetimes, and are the foremost experts in Soul based magic. 

Not every soulmate grouping lives in this town, but most come in contact with it in their lifetimes and certain cultural norms have developed. 

The Vow: Every group of soulmates guard their vow and it’s wording with everything they are. The only people who know the wording of the Vow are the people that swear it. Though no one actually knows, most soulmate groups believe that the initial ritual was created by some form of slaves, fearing that they would be separated from their loved ones.  Thus they keep the working a secret so that no one will be able to induce Bondrot or force the bonds to break. 

Current Lives: There is a tendency throughout all the soulmates to be somewhat disconnected from the people in their current lives. No one can really tell if the disconnect comes from the soulmates (not forming connections in the current life because they have connections already) or the non soulmate (that they can sense something strange so never form that connection) or some combination of both.  Because of this disconnect soulmates tend not to talk about being soulmates with anyone in their current lives.

Death: Soulmates do not see death as an ending, and in some cases is the answer to a problem (particularly if that problem is related to Bondrot). Most of the time, once one member of a soulmate group dies, the others die within about 6 months. Generally enough time to put their affairs in order. 

Now, almost three pages in, it is time to build the specifics.

One, Jason and Tim are soulmates. It is and was a romantic relationship.  They reaffirmed their vow (The vow they made was swearing to never willinging kiss another-further reinforcing the idea that the initial ritual was designed by slaves) two months before Jason died in Ethiopia, but had not told anyone in the batfam that they knew each other. 

Tim started to get his affairs in order, but realized that Bruce was losing his shit over Jason’s death. Thus decides that, before he can join Jason he needs to get Bruce back into better mental ground, still never letting on who Jason was to him. By the time Bruce is stable, Red Hood has been revealed as Jason. But here’s the twist. 

Jason comes back, digs himself out of his grave, and is thrown in the Lazarus Pit by Talia. Talia wants him to forge him into a weapon against Bruce, to an extent. She wants to break down Bruce’s psyche so that she and Ra’s can mold Bruce into the heir to the Demon’s head.  If her plan had gone as it was supposed to, Jason would have been wielded to kill Tim and Dick then killed by Bruce (in the midst of a grief fueled psychotic break) only to be revealed as Jason Todd as he died. Talia would then swoop in to the Broken Bruce with the lure of a remaining son (Damian). Bruce would follow after her for the sake of the only child he had left and she would mold him into the person she wanted him to be. 

This is not what happened. And where Magic enters. 

In the first place, there is no way that Jason does not recognize Tim, Robin costume or not. And Jason has no problem with his soulmate being Robin. Second, death does not mean the same thing to Jason as it would to most, and he’s aware of that.  He’s a little irritated at the Joker for murdering him, but despite the fact that he has no clear memories of his past life he is pretty sure that the Joker is not the only person to murder him (also to a certain extent does not feel traumatized/surprised that the Joker- an unrepentant murderer- murdered him). He is more betrayed and pissed at Sheila but she ends up dead. Jason is also very aware that Bruce has tons of trauma regarding death, so does not come out of the Pit thinking that Bruce should have killed (thus triggering the destruction of the core of Bruce’s being) the Joker.  He also outright, and vocally, disbelieves Talia when she tries to say that Dick deliberately missed his funeral.. 

In short Talia is not able to weaponize Jason after the Lazarus pit. So she finds a magic user. Later opinions will say she found an idiot of an amateur magic user, who she has cast a memory spell on Jason. It is a spell to suppress his happy memories from before his death, and to increase his anger toward Bruce, Tim, and Dick to a very specific level (so he does not go kill Bruce outright).

The Soulmate ritual is soul magic. It is ancient and, save for Bondrot and the bond breaking, is unbreakable.  However it does not need to be broken to be affected. If a person’s memory of making The Vow, and the memories of the person they made the vow to is suppressed, then how will Jason even know there is something to break or that he has. 

The Lazarus pit is magic of the body and mind. It heals and hurts and causes madness that is supposed to fade after a time. It saturates and causes instability, but is supposed to drain from the flesh.

The final spell cast is one of the mind and the emotions.  It is cast to be permanent, but not in the same way that Soul magic is permanent (it lasts unto death or being broken not it lasts unto eternity).  It is meant to exist on the surface and shape a person, but not meant to penetrate deeper. 

As far as Talia is concerned, the memory spell worked as intended, Jason no longer remembered most of his good memories from before his death and wanted to kill ‘The Replacement’. She noted that Jason’s pit madness did not seem to be fading like it should be, but cared very little about it. After all, it would not hurt her plans.  

She released him on Gotham to become The Red Hood. 

When Jason attacked Tim at Titan’s Tower, Tim realized quickly that something was wrong. He managed to knock Jason out and call ‘Doc’, a member of the soulmate group that was the foremost authority in soulmates and soul magic.  Doc was able to examine Jason, read the magic laid on him and their interactions. The magic had combined into a horrific Gordian knot, making it impossible to undo any of the magic without breaking any of the rest (and with that shattering both Jason and Tims souls and sending them into an eternity of agony).  They also could not tell Jason what was going on, for fear that the knowledge would put pressure on the memory spell (which was poorly applied besides), thus back to shattering it and  their souls. Though Tim and Doc discuss death as a reset, they cannot be sure that the magic will not follow them into the next life and make things worse.

Tim makes the decision to not tell the rest of the Batfam either, correctly deducing that they would never be able to leave it alone. He maintains the status quo, never letting on the pain he was feeling as Jason, not remembering their vow, breaks it often. He tell no one about his deeper relationship to Jason. 

Now we have built enough to arrive at the scenes in my head, set a few years after Bruce returns from the Timestream. The Bats (Batman, Red Hood, Nightwing, Red Robin, Black Bat, Batgirl, Robin), two lanterns, along with Zatanna and Constantine are captured by some weird new villain who has a device, decidedly running on science and not magic, that is supposed to transform suffering/ bad memories into  power for the villian. The villain had already drained one of the Lanterns, who was from off world, into a near catatonic state. 

The villain, who doesn’t get a name, they are not important enough, takes Jason to put in the machine, also plugs himself in and turns it on…

Only to begin to scream, which is not what happened the first time. The magic acting on Jason reacted badly to the villains machine.  For the villain. 

The distraction is enough for the group of heroes to break out and capture the villain. Tim goes right to unstrap Jason. 

Jason wakes up and calls Tim by a name the Bats had never heard (a nickname that had stuck around through each lifetime) and as Tim goes still, Jason apologizes over and over for what he was doing, saying that he can feel himself being dragged under again.  After a small amount of time Jason goes silent and when he speaks again it is clear he does not remember anything after being strapped into the machine. 

Later, during the debriefing in the Cave with the Bats and the two magic users (the lanterns had left to get the injured lantern medical care), Damian brings up Jasons strange words after the machine was turned off. Damian goes to say what Jason had called Tim, but Tim interrupts, saying that if Damian attempts to speak that term, Tim would rip his tongue out and feed it to him. Completely serious and threatening in a way that is unusual.  

There is a bit of back and forth while Tim tries to not have to answer any questions, Jason is very confused and irritated, and the rest of the table is only mildly less confused. Finally Tim does convince them that saying the wrong thing would have disastrous consequences (Dick: What’s the worst that could happen? Tim: You shatter the minds and souls of multiple people and send them into eternal agony), but they convince him that it is better to give them, including Jason, as much information as possible. Tim insists on calling Doc to explain things.  He also turns to Bruce and goes “Doc knows me as a civilian, we can either invite him to the Cave, and disclose our identities to him, or we can invite him to the Manor and Constantine and Zatanna can stop pretending they don’t know who we are.”

Batman decides to receive this Doc in one of the manor’s sitting rooms. 

Doc arrives, Tim gives him a brief overview of what went on. Doc then surprises everyone by asking Tim if he had any additional pain (since Tim is bearing all of the pain from their Bondrot, he would know better if the machine had done anything to make the bond unstable).  When Tim says no, Doc nods to himself and murmurs that they then have time to do things right. He looks at Jason and asks if he was ok with the rest, barring Tim, knowing what was going on. Dick tries to interject but Doc says that without Jason and Tim’s ok, none of them were learning squat. 

Jason does decide that he is okay with the bats and the magic users knowing whatever was going on. Doc nods and goes “Alright, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to do a quick spell to give an overview of what is going on. Mostly to establish my bonafides with the magic users, so that when I explain the sheer fuckery going on we don’t waste time with what I should or should not know. Then I will tell you what the parts that I safely can.” Jason starts to look even more irate “What I do or do not tell you has nothing to do with your abilities. But I will not risk a 80% of unending agony for your ego. After I explain I will do a slightly deeper check, then you will choose someone, not Tim, to make decisions on your behalf, I cast a spell to ensure that they will make choices with your long term interest at heart, then you and Tim will go somewhere out of earshot so that I can give a more complete explanation.Then see if we can plan on where to go from here.”

Jason let Doc do the overview spell (specifically created to not interfere with other magic), the results of which appear in triplicate on letter sized paper on a nearby table. The Doc goes “The long and short of it is, at some point after your cam out f the Lazarus Pits some moron of an amateur magic user cast a spell on you which interacted weirdly with both the Pit and another piece of beneficial magic that, if broken, is going to result in that eternal agony. Because of the interaction between the magic we can’t remove one without breaking the others. Too much information about the spell effects will cause your mind to break the spell and lead to the aforementioned eternal agony.”

With that Doc moved on to a verbal check with Tim. Things like likelihood of nightmares for Tim tonight (Tim: 100% Jay saw me completely for 1 minute 19 seconds before fading); Tim’s current pain level (Tim: 9.3 out of 10; Doc: That’s lower than I thought. Tim: 1 minute 19 second) and other questions that no one had the context for but the answers were still concerning.  

After that Jason picks Alfred to speak on his behalf, Doc behinds Alfred to make decisions for Jason’s long term welfare no matter Alfred’s feelings on the matter (on the off chance that Death is brought up as an option again). After Jason and Tim are out of earshot, Doc hands Constantine and Zatanna the most recent result of the spell, also summoning the previous results as well to give a more complete picture. 

The first thing Constantine said was agreeing that the memory spell was cast by a moron.  Then he gets a little pale when he sees the Soulmate magic that is affecting Jason. 

Doc explains Soulmates, that Jason and Tim are Soulmates in this sense, and what exactly the combination of magic on Jason is doing. He also mentions in this explanation that killing Tim and Jason had been discussed but put aside and that Jason had broken their vow (one of the contextless questions asked) three times in the last week. 

All of the bats, including Damian, are a little distressed to realize that the only reason that Death was not still be considered as an answer was that they did not know if the convoluted magic would follow Jason into the next life. Also Bruce and Dick were having a bit of a crisis in the realization that Bruce’s breakdown had prevented Tim’s death before they ever met him. 

Though Black Bat is not particularly well versed in magic, she is the one (while peering curiously over Zatanna’s shoulder) that points out there is a difference between the most recent results and the ones from previous overview spells cast. Doc looks and realizes that the machine had shifted something in the spell, in that telling Jason the vow he made would no longer shatter the spells. From the readings it was clear if Jason and Tim made their vow again, it would reestablish their bond, free of the other magic.  

There is still a risk. There was about a 20% chance it would not work and the act of Tim (because Tim is the only person who remembers the Vow) telling the vow to Jason would shatter them both. 

Doc (who had previously, extensively, discussed Tim’s wishes on the subject with him)and Alfred (bound by magic as well) decide that 20% is worth the risk, to Batman’s vocal displeasure.  The call JAson and Tim back in. Because of the way that the machine shifted the magic, they cannot tell Jason what he is vowing or why. All they can say is that Tim is going to tell you a vow that you will have to make, and that should fix things. 

Tim gets no explanation either, but goes along with it. He does insist that they find a room big enough that they can be in sight, but far enough away that no one can overhear their vow. 

They say their vows again (‘I swear not to willingly kiss anyone but you’) and it works, reestablishing their bond. It does not fully break the other spells, though that will come naturally with time.  But the bond being reestablished is enough for Jason to gain some of the knowledge he has again about soulmates and realize exactly how much pain he has been causing Tim.

Jason and tim, now holding hands, say goodbye to Doc (after another brief check to make sure things are as astable as can be) and go to leave to head to Tim’s Nest. The batfam expresses vocal displeasure with that. Jason goes ‘both of us are due about three panic attacks…each. We need to feel completely safe to do that, and the manor has not been safe for us for a long time’.

I have no idea where it goes from there, but anyone who wants to pick it up and run with it is welcome.

[captainwriter]

Chapter 1 - Who are you?

Summary: Who is Quinn Hughes? That’s all Iris wants to know. Will Quinn and Iris be able to overcome the accident that rips them apart. Will Iris ever remember who Quinn Hughes is?

Masterlist l Chapter 2 (coming soon)

Warnings: Aussie spelling, hospital environment, occasional swear word.

Words: 1037

Pain. Beep. Pain. Beep. Beep. I can’t open my eyes. There is a weight on my stomach, what is it. I can’t move, I’M PARALYZED! You need to calm down Iris, panicking has never gotten anyone anywhere. 

“Please I don’t know what I’d do without you” Three squeezes to my left hand, if I were focused on anything else I wouldn’t have been able to feel it. It was so kind, gentle and delicate like I could break if they touched me. Who was that? I don’t know that voice. The weight on my stomach adjusts, a kiss is placed on my stomach. Pain screeches in my head like a banshee.

——

There is no weight on my stomach, nothing in my hand, I cannot hear anything other than beeping. Something is over my mouth, pushing air into my lips. If that’s what I think it is, I’ve put this on a 100 people before when working at the hospital. I must be at work, maybe I passed out.

I begin to breach the seal that had sewn my eyes shut. The light in the room is too much, a window on the far left, but the fluorescent lights beaming at me like headlights. When my senses focus like a camera lenses, I can see cords everywhere around me, sticking into me, they stick to my skin, multiple machines line the bed - ah the source of the beeping. A shitty hospital blanket dropped over me, it looks like the bed has been made with me in it. However, a district divit sits to my left near my waist a chair tucked in at the same spot. Bingo! I’m at work. I must have passed out. How embarrassing I’m now a patient. I pull the oxygen mask off and test my breathing. Something catches my eye, I’m not in scrubs, I’m in a hospital grown. Oh no, I know what ungodly things happen to these gowns, what they have seen, the horror and now I’m in one. WHO CHANGED ME?! If it was Brandon I’ll be forever scarred. I hope it was Jessica or Joan they are lovely. Multiple untouched drinks sit lined up on the table next to me, one the coffee mixed with the milk, three different juices. If only I could reach it I am dying for a drink. Condensation pools around the table, they must have been sitting there for a while.

Someone walks in a tall blonde man, is he the person who was holding my hand? I haven’t ever seen hime before, maybe it’s someone new at work. We do have new people all the time. “Oh you are awake, my name is Matt and I’m your nurse, do you know where you are?” It begins to dawn on me this does not look like the hospital I work at. The white walls aren’t the same, we have some bright coloured curtain and decor, this room is all white and grey. Yuck. The blanket does display my hospital name proudly. I don’t know where I am or what has happened. I shake my head and tears quickly make themselves present. Where is my family? “Can you recall what happened?” I stare at the white wall, my mind is utterly blank. I squeak out a “no.” That doesn’t sound like me, raspy and scratchy. If only I could have that juice. “What is the last thing you remember?” The nurse asked as he fiddled with machines, stopping the beeping, finally. 

“I… I remember working back home, I was working my last morning shift before I went on a holiday” my head gave this information without consulting me. The nurse paused and looked at me “Miss you are in Vancouver, Canada, you were in a car accident.” He must be confusing me with someone else.  He must have seen my confused face cause he says “I’m going to go get the doctor.” He begins to walk out however like a revolving door someone else walks in. 

This man has his head slumped, he looks dishevelled, his hair greasy and unkept, his dressed in track pants and a hoodie. Lucky he isn’t wearing an exposing gross hospital gown. He looks up and locks eyes with the nurse, a curt nod and tug of his lips as an acknowledgement. He has dark bags under his eyes, stubble growing. I hope this isn’t my doctor. He looks around the room before his eyes cast to me. He looks like he has done this 100 times before. He looks sad, looks like he needs a hug. 

His eyes light up like a child at Christmas. “I.. Iris” desperation dripping in his voice, he runs to me, dropping another two drinks on the table. One black coffee half drunk and another iced latte. Oh please be oat milk, I just want a drink. “Oh I’m so glad you are awake, you can’t leave me like that again. I’m so sorry.” I look at him blinking I probably look like a fish, with my mouth slightly ajar and big round eyes staring at this man, who’s holding my hand may I add, this time he is gripping it like it’s his life line. Tears well in his eyes, I think they are happy because he has this contagious smile. Nearly makes me smile but confusion is cast over my face. “Who are you?”.

The nurse still standing at the door, watching like we are the animals at a zoo. He cuts in, “I’m going to get the doctor,” he says as he steps out, in a hurry. 

I take a closer look at this man. His eyes hold so much emotion, I can’t read them all. I see tears begin to fall from his water line. I feel horrible but I don’t know why. I still have this urge to hug him. He begins to pull away from me, “I… Iris.” I never want to hear that tone ever again, he pulls away with disgust? disbelief? I don’t know who he is but his hold was comforting. But now we sit there like strangers, in utter silence, not touching neither of us know what to do or what comes next. 

[allertonhoe]

unbridled love - rafe cameron

chapter 1

summary: You end up taking a trip out to OBX to attend your estranged brother, John B's, wedding. You also happen to meet someone while you're there that you just can't seem to shake. (post-s3, if s4 didn't happen—all canon same except rafe & sarah get back in touch sooner … and no sofia technically lol).

content warnings: john b's sister!reader, original afab!reader, obx!universe, use of petnames (sweetheart, baby), kissing, 18+ MDNI - smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of being under the influence/consumption of alcohol, totally unrealistic love at first sight plot lol, a little mix of angst and fluff for valentines day 🥰🥰🥰

length: 3.2k

As excited as you were to be present to witness this milestone, you were nervous above anything else. You and John B had never been particularly close, the circumstances in which you'd met your half-brother not the most conventional either, but when has anything in your life been?

He'd reached out a couple of years ago, not having known he even existed prior to that point. The younger boy had been riddled with panic because your shared father had gone missing while on some sort of work excursion. That was the only other time you'd been in the Outer Banks.

You'd stayed with him for a few weeks, trying to get to know him and help him get some sort of balance in his life. The two of you finding out you weren't very alike despite being siblings, which ultimately resulted in you deciding to return home and letting him handle it all himself.

You only heard from him again months later, offering you an apology and an unbelievable story about his wild adventure looking for the same treasure that had once consumed your father. Having kept a distant but amicable relationship with him since then, which is why you were back on the island.

"I'm so glad you made it!" Sarah cheered as she ran up and engulfed you with a hug, your brother not far behind as you stepped off the ferry. "Now the wedding can officially start."

"I take it that you guys are ready for this?" You gush as they led you to the truck.

"Absolutely." Sarah proclaims, turning to your brother with a bright smile.

"Never been more sure about anything in my life." John B adds without delay, taking his bride-to-be's hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

As they drove you to your hotel, you watched the scenery pass through the window, becoming familiar with the small town once again. Catching up with the couple over mundane life stories, Sarah eventually changing the subject to gossip with you about final arrangements.

"I'm sure you're exhausted from travelling all day, and the weekend is pretty jam-packed, so we'll drop you off and let you chill tonight." Sarah explains. "Tomorrow, we're having a barbecue at the new Chateau for the wedding party, and then the rehearsal later on."

"Sounds good." you affirm, trying to absorb all the new information. "Is there anywhere around here for me to grab dinner?"

"The Wreck's nearby," John B suggests. "Kiara's parents own it. Food's pretty good."

"Did you want us to pick you up tomorrow morning?" Sarah extends graciously.

"I'm sure you have enough running around to do with final touches. I'll figure it out," you reassure them as they pulled up to an elegant hotel.

You thanked them again for picking you up from the dock, the couple helping you get your luggage from the van before finally bidding you goodbye and driving back off. Leaving you to enter the swanky lobby of one of the nicest resorts in Figure 8.

This was one of the things you didn't meet eye-to-eye with your brother on—having grown up in a much different tax bracket than he had. It was nothing close to the extravagance of the crowd that lived here, but the middle class was a life of luxury compared to what he experienced in The Cut.

By the time you'd checked in and gotten settled in your suite, you were starving. Looking up the place they'd told you about and deciding to walk over since it wasn't longer than a fifteen-minute journey. The trip there being much different than when you'd go to the bars at home, passing vast forests and being surrounded by the sounds of nature instead of honking horns.

The restaurant was bustling when you arrived, locals scattered around the beloved establishment as they kicked off their weekends. Spotting the bubbly brunette right as you wandered inside, assuming she was on the clock from the creased apron tied around her waist.

"Hey!" Kiara beamed as she came over, instantly recognizing you. "So good to see you! When did you get in?"

"A few hours ago."

"Came for a bite?" she correctly assumed. "Did you want a table, or did you just wanna sit at the bar? It's a lot less crowded over there."

"Whatever's easier for you guys," you tell her, blindly following as she took you into the busy area.

You sat at a long counter with rows of liquor bottles displayed behind it, assessing the array of options, impressed at the selection since it wasn't the busiest of towns. A bartender came to take your order, opting for a gin and tonic. When they brought it to you, however, a filled shot glass was also set alongside it.

"Oh, I didn't get this," you inform the employee.

"It's from him," they reply, nodding their head towards whoever they'd been referring to.

You prepared yourself to be confronted by some creepy old dude or dopey hick that you knew you'd need to outwardly turn down, but that wasn't how the culprit looked at all. If anything, there was a subtle familiarity about him even though you couldn't recall meeting him during your last visit. 

He was incredibly handsome and clearly ripped, despite the fact his arms were mostly hidden by the rolled up sleeves on his button-up shirt. Your brother had mentioned the deep-seated politics of the island—the distinct class divide—but there was no questioning that this guy was well-off. His style was preppy and clean, hair buzzed down and accentuating his sharp features even more.

Sending you a devilish smirk as he raised a shot identical to the one he sent to you like an indirect greeting, tossing it back with ease and swiftly meeting your gaze again. Immediately picking up that he had an edge to him, not missing how the other patrons had been giving him apprehensive looks as they passed by.

Your indifference didn't seem to discourage him at all as he sauntered your way about ten minutes later, his strong musk and overall presence hitting your senses and providing a different kind of intoxication. Not anticipating for him to tower over you like he did because of his large stature.

"Hey," he establishes, his voice more gruff than you'd expected. "You aren't from around here, are you?"

"Is it that obvious?" you quip back.

"Just know I would've remembered such a pretty face." He banters, scoffing at his cliché line even though it totally made you blush. "You here on vacation?"

"Something like that." You shrug, not wanting to expose too much to the unknown man, no matter how attractive he was.

"Yeah?" he notes curiously, taking a swig from his old fashioned. "Business or pleasure?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" You avert, taking a sip from your own beverage, not having touched his initial offer yet.

"That is why I asked," he asserts, not making his interest in you a secret. "The least you could do is answer that for me. I did send over that shot."

"That I never asked you for, by the way." You flip back onto him, a little amused by his shameless flirting.

"Is it a crime to buy a beautiful girl a drink?" He grills, bringing his glass back to his lips, inadvertently glancing at them. Realizing he'd caught you when his cheeky grin grew even more. "Just trying to show some Southern hospitality, since you're from out of town and all."

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you finally took the small glass in your hand. Giving him one last pointed look as you knocked the tequila down your throat, feeling the alcohol burn through your body. You rested your elbows on the table, propping your face in your hands as you examined the cute stranger keeping you company.

"You're welcome," he teases lightly, inherently leaning closer.

His thumb brushed your bottom lip, wiping off a drop that hadn't reached your mouth. A faint tingling erupting where his finger had barely caressed you. Popping it between his lips and sucking it suggestively, a dangerous glint sparkling in his gaze.

You were grateful when the server interrupted you, abruptly diverting the conversation and giving you the opportunity to order dinner like you'd originally gone there to do. You had no idea where this guy came from and why he was so infatuated with you, but you couldn't deny that you liked his unwavering attention. Even with his constant provoking.

"Two more, please," he sneaks in right at the last second, not letting you get any input.

This time, when the shots showed up, you decided not to stall. Rafe tapping his cup against yours before simultaneously tossing them back. The effects from your liquid courage giving you a surge of confidence in handling his magnetic charm.

"Got any more plans tonight?" He interrogates, still not letting up on his pursuit.

"If I tell you, will you leave me alone?" You retort smartly.

"I doubt it." He remarks. Taking the opportunity to steal a french fry off your plate, tossing it in his mouth. "As a matter of fact, I have a feeling I might end up being involved."

"Oh yeah? Cocky much?" You sneer.

"You don't seem to mind," he observes, revealing you might not have been acting as sly as you thought. "Let me take you home," he deadpans out of seemingly nowhere. 

"Do you really think I'm just gonna leave the bar with a stranger in some random town I'm passing through?"

"Fine. I'm Rafe," he introduces smoothly. "Now we aren't strangers."

"Is this what you consider Southern hospitality?" you reference back to his earlier comment, getting a hearty laugh in return.

"Only the best, sweetheart," he persisted. "What do you say? It's getting late."

You pushed the remnants of your food around the plate as you contemplated your next move. On one hand, it's not like you'd never had a one-night stand, having dealt with your fair share of doting admirers. There was just something about this guy that you couldn't ignore, and you weren't sure if it was a good or bad thing.

"Just for, like, a drink or something..." you concede begrudgingly.

"Yeah. For sure." he concurs, not hiding the pride in his expression.

He took you back to his place at his insistence, boasting about how he resided at one of the biggest properties on the island, something he was not shy about showing off. The previously chatty man letting a thick silence fall between you after that, making you grateful that the drive wasn't too lengthy. 

You lounged on the passenger side of his Range Rover as he raced through the unfamiliar neighbourhoods. One of his hands clutching the top of his steering wheel with his other arm stretched across the back of your seat, his thumb brushing against your shoulder every so often.

And even with his exaggerated description of the house, that was still an understatement. Turning onto the long path, a huge manor sat at the top, surrounded by extensive acres of land. The car rolling up the steep hill and taking up the otherwise empty driveway. 

You hadn't expected him to jog to your side of the vehicle and open your door for you, his hand finding your lower back as he led you towards the home. Taking you inside and into the equally impressive kitchen, the counter in the middle of the room finally giving you some space from all his poking and proding. 

"How the hell did you score this place?" you investigate as he grabbed two glasses and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue, unable to hide your absolute awe for the lavish home.

"Uh... It was my dad's." he indicates somberly. "He left it to me when he died." he clarifies, tearing his focus from you for the first time that evening as he poured the whiskey.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry for asking." you apologize, although he didn't look particularly upset.

"Don't worry about it," he dismisses, feeling a discomfort rise as he poured out the gold-coloured liquid.

"Mine did too..." you disclose, not knowing how else to respond. "But we weren't super close."

"I get it." he acknowledges. "Didn't have the best relationship with mine."

"The house is a pretty sweet consolation," you ramble on. "And you live here, all by yourself?"

"Yeah..." he trails off, passing one of the half-filled cups to you.

His focus fell to the amber spirit, swirling it around as he contemplated how to proceed with your encounter. Sensing a palpable shift in his attitude after that. Not wanting to create any more awkward tension, you lifted the beverage in the air. Rafe following suit and clinking his against yours in ritual.

"To shitty, dead dads," you toast earnestly as Rafe brought the drink to his lips, choking slightly upon hearing your declaration. Noticing a sheepish grin appear through the crystal pattern on the glass as he went for another swig.

"So, what's your deal." he surveys, purposely changing the subject. 

"You really don't stop, huh?"

"Just making conversation. Unless you just wanted to get right down to it," he taunts.

"Is that how it usually goes for you?" you quiz.

"What do you think?" He throws back to you, not being subtle as his eyes dragged themselves down your body.

"I don't think I need to inflate your ego even more than it already is."

"You're acting like you don't want this as much as I do. You did agree to come back here with me, you know," he reminds playfully, raising his brow at you in challenge.

He topped up both of your cups, sauntering around the countertop so he was standing beside you again. Taking a piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face and placing it behind your ear. An obvious move but still making your stomach flutter with butterflies.

You were already pretty tipsy leaving the restaurant, but the strong liquor quickly pushed you into drunk territory. Knowing your clouded mindset was due to all the alcohol but inwardly recognizing Rafe's effect on you wasn't just physical. Your head spinning just from the way he was staring at you.

"What?" you press, feeling vulnerable under his scrutiny. A bashful smile settling on Rafe's lips as he shook his head.

"I don't know... There's just something about you."

"Really, Rafe?" You sass, giggling at the vagueness of words. "How many girls have you used that line on?"

"You'd think more, but..." he falters, his brows furrowing in concentration. "Seriously, I have no idea. There's just something different about you."

He kept his hand on your chin, cradling your face upwards and cutting right to the chase. His other hand going to your waist, rubbing circles over the fabric of your shirt. His warm breath mixing with yours the closer he got, literally dangling what you wanted directly in front of you.

"Is this okay?" he whispered right as his lips ghosted yours, as if he was feeding you the question. Looking up at him wide-eyed, nodding because you couldn't form an answer at that point.

The kiss was initially slow and sensual, the two of you savoring the moment. A rush of heat passing through your body as he embraced you with a mix of caution and raw passion. Letting him maneuver you through the halls without breaking away from your kiss, both of you giggling drunkenly with every stumble or misstep.

He pinned you up against the wall, one of your legs instinctively lifting and wrapping itself around him. Leaning back on the hard surface for some sort of balance, your earlier skepticism having disappeared and turned into total hunger. Tasting the mix of booze on his tongue as he slipped it into your mouth, Rafe swallowing every moan that escaped you.

"Jump," he instructs hoarsely, catching you without difficulty and carrying you up the grand staircase.

Once you hit his bedroom, all bets were off. Nudging him to lie back on his mattress, you straddled his waist as you continued making out. His hands grabbing your ass and prompting you to grind against him. Realizing in that moment that as easily as he'd gotten you to agree to come back here with him, he was unraveling twice as quick under your regard.

You gave him one last kiss, roaming further down his body, mirroring each other's fierce demeanor. Your fingers went to his waistband, removing his belt and undoing his pants, palming him over the fabric. Removing them with his boxers, you spat in your hand and started stroking him.

"Fuck," he groaned, mesmerized just at the sight of you.

You bent slightly forward, pouting your lips and dragging his glistening head against them, coating them with his precum. Finally taking him into your mouth and swirling your tongue around him. You hollowed out your cheeks to fit as much of him as you could, gagging lightly when he hit the back of your throat.

While you took your time getting used to his size, he wasn't as patient. Threading his fingers through your hair to gently guide you back and forth, craving some kind of relief. Grasping whatever you couldn't fit, letting him determine your rhythm. Your jaw feeling sore at his needy movements.

"Just like that, baby," he mutters, completely mesmerized by your skills.

You bobbed your head at his faint urging, his grip on your hair tightening as you swallowed around him. Pulling back to give yourself some air, focusing on his tip and spreading your saliva along his shaft. Watching his feral reactions through your lashes, unknowingly pushing him even more.

He started thrusting again when you could tell he was getting closer to his peak, his motions becoming frantic and desperate. With a few more pumps, his cum coated your throat, his head falling back as he reveled in the sensation. Looking absolutely blissed out as he rode out his high, brushing his fingers down the back of your head as you both caught your breath.

And it just picked up from there. It was explosive and fast and hot, neither of you making your desires a secret throughout the night. Rafe claiming dominance over you as if you'd known each other for years, picking up on your ticks and locating all your sweet spots without difficulty. Worshipping you and your body like it was the most magnificent thing he'd ever encountered.

You wanted to blame it on your intoxication, how enamored you felt over a man you'd only met hours ago and barely even spoke to properly. Boiling it down to pure lust, fundamentally knowing this was a one-time thing and that assuming otherwise was unrealistic.

When you finally heard his breathing still, indicating he'd fallen asleep, you decided to make your exit before you could be caught. Not wanting to deal with the post-hookup routine in the morning, especially when you'd have to spend the day with your brother, his fiancée, and their rowdy group of friends.

You knew the island wasn't huge, remembering how your brother was able to greet almost every person he'd pass by their first name. But you couldn't have guessed the predicament you'd just managed to accidentally get yourself into.

note: ahh i went so back and forth over actually posting this… love the concept but not super excited over what i actually wrote?? let me know if you guys like this, i probably will post the whole thing (it’s 4 parts!) just to get it all out lol but apologies in advance if there’s a bit of a delay 🙈 hope you guys like it!! always appreciate your support & msgs!! 💞💞

[imogenkol]

— IF PEACE IS AN OPTION

pairing: Imogen Kol (oc) x Bix Caleen rating: Mature words: 1k warnings: light allusions to intimacy summary: local evil woman has been Domesticated™️ and doesn’t realize it, but she’s okay with that.

notes: this is an oldie I spruced up because I wanted to post something soft and fluffy for Valentine’s Week. Enjoy a brief view of what a normal life could be like for them!

The apartment was quiet. While traffic outside had picked up, the constant hum and buzz of speeders were muffled by the thick transparisteel windows, allowing for a peaceful atmosphere in the grey glow of a stormy dawn. Gentle rain patter broke through the monotony of artificial sounds and caused Imogen to stir in bed. 

As her eyes blinked open, she took note of her lover’s arm draped loosely over her waist and smiled at the warmth of her embrace. No matter how many times Imogen woke up like this, it still filled her with a deep gratification she struggled to describe – one she did not know she needed and could no longer see herself without.

After a few prolonged moments waiting for her senses to come into full focus, Imogen carefully moved Bix’s arm aside, though a huge part of her loathed to do so. If she were a lazier individual, she would simply stay right where she was and slip back into slumber. But routine beckoned her toward a new day.  

The bounty hunter pulled herself out of bed and stretched. Some of her more troublesome joints made satisfying pops and she glanced over her shoulder to check if the noise broke through the other woman’s unconscious state. Luckily, it seemed to go unnoticed and she went to wash up. 

One thing Imogen missed about spending most of her downtime on her ship was the refresher. The apartment’s was sufficient, but her converted pleasure yacht still had a certain amount of luxury Imogen had grown a special appreciation for. Including polished chromium walls and a waterfall shower head with water that always flowed at the perfect temperature.

This inferior one would do, she supposed. For now. 

Cool air greeted her skin when she eventually stepped back out of the refresher. Imogen had taken her time, but Bix still lay fast asleep exactly as she had left her. Her eyes lingered on the seemingly comatose mechanic while she gathered her clothes and dressed herself, wondering if she would awaken on her own any time soon. Fog lined the windows near the bed, ironically appearing like a wall of frost against the now torrent of rain outside, and the heat that pooled into the small space must have made her more lethargic.

Imogen did have to admit that one of the best sights she ever witnessed was Bix Caleen sleeping soundly. Ever since Ferrix, her slumber has been a fretful thing more often than not. The mechanic would curl in on herself and twitch restlessly as nightmares twisted her soft features. Imogen hated nights like that when even her comfort did little to discourage her beloved's demons. It was a rare sight to witness her in a truly peaceful slumber, though it was gradually becoming more frequent as time carried on.

The very last thing Imogen wanted to do was disturb such an occurrence, but Bix had overslept at this point. Imogen had moved all over the apartment without so much as a stir from the woman in bed. She had half a mind to admit defeat — it’s not as if they had any pressing matters on this particular day, but she knew Bix wouldn't be pleased about wasting too much daylight.

As carefully as she could, Imogen crawled back into bed beside Bix. Her gaze shifted all over her unburdened features, silently counting the stray beauty marks and tracing the shape of her lips. Imogen smiled fondly to herself and leaned in to press a delicate kiss right between Bix's eyebrows. Then she kissed the bridge of her nose. The corner of her mouth.

By the time Imogen reached her lips, Bix inhaled deeply and instinctively returned the affection. Her hand clumsily reached up and a light chuckle escaped Imogen in between their kisses as Bix assertively pulled the bounty hunter on top of her. The warmth of the mechanic's body seeped into Imogen's cool skin and she felt herself relax against her, banishing any sense of urgency to part her lips and invite a richer indulgence.

Imogen's amusement grew when she felt Bix's free hand work its way underneath her shirt to caress up the curve of her spine. "I only meant to wake you."

"I'm awake," Bix muttered, wrapping her legs around Imogen's hips.

"Yes, and now I feel far less inclined to surrender you to the day."

"Then don't. Keep me all to yourself."

Those words filled Imogen with a contentment so sweet that a broad grin made her cheeks hurt. "And so I shall."

As she nuzzled against Bix's neck to lay gentle kisses down the path of her pulse, Imogen found herself feeling rather sentimental.

She wondered what it would be like to have this every morning – to be utterly free of all that made her empty inside. Peace was never a concept within her reach, she accepted that long ago, yet there were many things Imogen previously believed to be unattainable. Like the woman beneath her that had seen her darkness and loved her anyway. 

“Would you like a cup of caf, darling?” Imogen asked in a sultry tone, peppering more kisses across her lover’s chest. “I was about to put a pot on.”

“In a minute,” Bix responded distractedly, humming as she ran her fingers through Imogen’s hair. 

Imogen laughed again – well, more of an amused exhale that turned into a low, soft song at the back of her throat and in her chest, but it was a sound closer to a laugh than any other living being was privy to. She found it charming that her continued contact was more of a priority than the warm, decadent drink Bix had an insatiable craving for most days, especially on cold mornings such as these. It filled Imogen with pride to hold a higher space than that comfort. 

“I love your laugh,” Bix rasped, still half-asleep, and pulled Imogen back up to meet her lips again. 

“And I adore the sound of your voice after a full night of rest,” she responded against her lover’s mouth, greedily soaking up the unconditional affection. 

Perhaps if Imogen fought hard enough, there may be a life truly worth living after everything was said and done. There was only one way to find out.

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[lilithofpenandbook]

I was born in 03. I didn't actually go to school, I was homeschooled. That's not to say I didn't have classes and stuff, because I did, it wasn't in the traditional schooling sense. I definitely had teachers I despised as much as Harry despised Snape, and I know full well that's just my perspective. They weren't abusive, they just didn't like me and I didn't like them, our personalities did not align. So I don't have much of a school experience to fall back on. However, I have grown up in Britain. I have somewhat of an idea of what the expectation is in British culture.

That, and I've seen so many skits about British school Vs American school. The joke being that American teachers are optimistic and friendly, while the British ones will call you a bastard and chuck you across the room XD

And while those are jokes, they do fit in with the culture in Britain, and there's going to be some truth in it. Brits are just used to more sarcasm, more aggression, people are used to people like Snape (who is exaggerated for comedy, of course), and especially back when the books were released, they wouldn't have seen him as anything other than the average grumpy schoolmaster.

It reminds me of the whole discourse about British sarcasm Vs American sarcasm, British sarcasm being more dry, American sarcasm being more obvious sarcasm. The way in Britain, being able to take a joke against yourself makes you a good sport, and how self-deprecation is used here Vs how it's used in America, the way the two countries differ in banter. What we call banter in the UK, Americans probably consider rude. And because of this difference in the senses of humour, I feel like the comedy just passes over people's heads in the States- because Snape is funny, and the exaggeration is comedic. This is probably especially true with the boggart scene- the misunderstanding of the joke, the fact that it seems to shock people that a child fears a teacher which is a perfectly ordinary fear.

All in all, I feel like that's also part of it: the huge influx of American audiences, and the way America influences the rest of the world, especially on social media. Just like how I feel American audiences might miss the sheer level of power James had over Severus because of the class divide, which is a far bigger issue than racism in Britain and is more than just a posh accent and money, or just how heavily Severus was disadvantaged for said class status and poverty, and even how they misunderstand the blood purity for racism. Obviously, I'm not saying it's only Americans, or all Americans, but I feel like this viewpoint of Snape being an abusive teacher really comes from there.

I believe there is a discussion among the Marauders fandom too, over the "Americanisation" of the Marauders, and I agree that there probably is, but not in the way I saw said fandom having a meltdown over- it's not about someone calling jumpers sweaters, it's about the way the very culture works, and even though the Wizarding World is magical, it's still very British. And missing that can alter the perception of all the dynamics involved, from the Weasleys Vs the Malfoys, to James and Snape. Even Remus Lupin- he may have been a werewolf, but he was probably from a middle class, and is apparently a half-blood, but with a muggle mother, not a muggle father, hence he's carrying a wizard's name, and that makes him more socially acceptable than Snape, despite his condition. And it's that lack of the cultural awareness that make them think of Snape as an abuser, when he's not.

I'm not even gonna get into the whole discussion as to why Snape's love for Lily is misunderstood too. But ultimately, to me it's a combination of Gen Z being raised differently to the target audience and a vastly American audience and popularization of American views that misunderstand British culture.

‘Snape is a child abuser’ is definitely coming from a generation of new Gen Z fans who weren’t growing up alongside the books and have failed to understand that the wizarding world is a reflection of 1970s-1990s British society and not 2025 therapy offices. Snape is an old school strict teacher who has methods - particularly towards Neville - that are mean and belittling and counterproductive but that also weren’t out of place with teaching in general back then. Corporal punishment wasn’t outlawed in English private schools until 1999. Nineteen Ninety Nine!! Historical context has been lost. Snape assigning cauldron scrubbing as a detention in comparison- he’s practically a softie.

He’s meant to be understood as a bitter, jaded, petty, tired to the bone teacher who has been held back by a job he’s too ambitious and too clever for. He’s not meant to be understood as truly abusive - because if he was, Harry would be deploying his usual coping mechanisms (conflict avoidance) instead of what he actually does, which is mouth off at Snape at every possible opportunity. It’s basic genre convention that every boy hero in a boarding school novel needs an antagonist teacher to put in his place while all the children cheer, lol. It’s not that deep.

Severus was designed so that kids at the time would see him as the classic rude, miserable teacher who ruins all the fun, is super strict, and seems to live to make sure you can’t do whatever you want. This was a very common archetype in fiction for those of us born in the ‘90s or earlier. He wasn’t created for people to think he was a child abuser but to remind you of that teacher who always gave everyone bad grades because they were extremely demanding, snapped at you for asking a question they thought was stupid, or seemed to live for catching students doing something wrong just to punish them.

We grew up with tons of characters like that (Miss Finster from Recess comes to mind—she basically lived to catch T.J. doing something wrong). They weren’t characters you saw as crossing a line with students, because EVERYONE had at least one teacher like that. The person we clearly saw as an abuser was Umbridge, but that’s because Umbridge wasn’t just about ruining fun—she wanted to repress and dominate the students. She physically harmed them and hurt them, abusing her institutional power. She was the character who scared you and made you angry. That’s why in the 2000s people hated her even more than Voldemort—because we had all either had a teacher like her, knew someone who had one, or heard horror stories about those teachers.

I feel like Gen Z doesn’t understand what it was like to grow up surrounded by boomers with zero emotional management skills who had done no self-work, and instead live in a paradise of Gen X and millennial teachers you can follow on social media. Honestly, they have a totally distorted view of things.

Anyone born in the ‘90s or earlier can clearly see the intention behind Severus as a teacher and what kind of archetype he represents—and they don’t associate him with someone abusive. Rowling wrote those books at a specific time for an audience that would understand that. I’m sorry some people were born 20 years later, but that doesn’t change the facts.

[personinthepalace]

Olympia and Otis - See You Again (A Perfect Partners Reunion Tribute)

[sysig]

How much of me is me? (Patreon)

[hellertears]

all these moments actually. so special. so so special to me.

[noelxbe]

bexstevie

god, stevie hopes he doesn't. if things don't work at studio delta, then he's probably done after that; a third stint? he doesn't have it in him mentally to do it again. "never again a contestant. please-- we did our time." he says in a rush, making a motion of prayer. he's not sure if he'd join a show similar to next gen or not-- depending on the prize pool, maybe. "returning back as a coach would be cool. i like that they brought them back on this past season." it was nice to see familiar faces again. "really?" stevie blinks. he kinda knew that, even if he wasn't sure what applied where. he knew studio delta was more of a self-produced powerhouse, but he truthfully didn't pay too much attention; he just listened to what most people were saying online. "they're all pretty good at what they do though, no? must means whatever they got going down is working." "everytime i think i have it down, i mess it up." there's been so many instances of mess-ups because of his language barrier when he started working; to be honest, it's kinda given him a bit more of a push to try and learn more, but it's hard when there's so many other things he'd rather be doing. "i'm the same way dude. we should try learning together! or wait...do you think that might be a bad idea?" he laughs at the idea. they might get caught up chatting too much to actually get any real work done. "mine too! unless we're talking like...serious business. once they switch to english, i usually know i'm in for something." he rubs the back of his neck. "i prefer it, anyway. easier to get my thoughts out. you can always switch it to english with me, promise!"

“man i did it once and it felt like more than enough, you managed to survive through the show twice though…” noel truly finds stevie cool for being able to handle the show twice. had noel not gotten the contract the first time though, he might just have given up on the idol dream, so he was quite lucky he got that contract the first time he joined next gen. “i would say i would never return to a survival show again” he runs a hand through his hair “but if the prize was debut, i’m not sure what i’d do” he pouts, thinks about the possibility, he’s grown a lot since next gen, but he fears the evil editing would return if he ever joined a survival show.

“as far as my understanding goes, it seems like sr media, lime and studio delta are some of the biggest companies at the moment” that knowledge he got simply by his sister, he’d never investigated her words, simply chose to believe them. “so i suppose you’re lucky if you become a trainee in one of the companies” he shrugs “but they must know what they’re doing since they’re all big companies? i’m sure they all have different things that work out for them”.

“i’ve always been a quick learner, but when it comes to korean… not sure what happened, but i’m still not completely fluent” he sighs. “perhaps we should practice together, might not be the worst idea” he leans a bit back, “man i just finished school, and i’m still not done studying” a short laugh escapes his lips. “i don’t think us speaking english together will help with our korean, but… i just miss speaking english so bad” he pouts.

[evelynpr]

I might get burned at the fandom stake here, but I personally think Zuko x Katara x Aang being a thing when they are older would be very interesting and hilarious. Just hear me out-

Katara and Aang, married, both looking at Zuko: "Hey so my wife and I saw you across the bar, and we saved the world together and all so, can I get you some tea?" kinda vibe.

Like the three of them are all each other's narrative foils and parallels. They circulate each other narratively and emotionally throughout the whole series and even comics. When they're all older restoring peace around the world, they would have all spent so much time together I like to think it would just, kinda Click for them

[moeblob]

OC !