#I blame a specific someone for it and I know she's cackling still!

[itsraiyninmuses]

Gods...I’m getting back into Rune Factory 4 and just..

I miss my boy

[the-kr8tor]

Go by the Board

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, TW violence, CW injury, TW blood, TW death, CW needles.

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Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

CHAPTER 4 >>> CHAPTER 5

The bandages around your wrists itch, you try not to scratch the annoying feeling away knowing infection on a ship could be deadly for you. Frozen in a fetal position, your legs tucked under the dust covered blankets, you focus on the locked door, the silver pendant hanging on the doorknob sways as the boat rocks in the wild waves.

You've only slept for a few hours following what you've witnessed, the sailor's screams still echo in your mind, clawing and gnawing at your skull. You try not to think about it, pushing the image of him writhing on the blood soaked floorboards.

Maybe it's better if you don't think about it, ever. Scrubbing it from your mind, you exhale a shaky breath, fingers twitching to scratch that annoying itch.

Why is it so fucking itchy? Your nose itches. Why does everything in this damned room smell old? The small cabin seems to swallow you whole as you lay on the unusually soft mattress. You twist and turn, kicking the blankets away in frustration. Your head pounds from the oncoming headache.

Gritting your teeth, you hear gasps and pained yells from outside. There's something dragging under the sound of curses. You sit up, your eyes feel heavy, it seems like your brain is trying to escape from you. You don't blame it.

You do your best at trying to look normal, well normal for someone who hasn't slept for more than four hours for two days straight. Straightening your back, the noises stop right at your door.

There's shuffling then the clinking of keys, the door bursts open, a man stumbles inside, landing harshly on his face. You recognize the navy lieutenant, his hands and feet bound. His once pristine uniform slashed and dirtied with drying blood. His shiny medals are nowhere to be found.

You lift your feet up on the bed, shielding yourself, wide eyes staring at the captain who looks worse than you. Hobie's still wearing the exact same clothes he wore during the battle, cotton shirt marred by crimson and tattered at the seams, his eyes are bloodshot, the storm still raging inside. There's a large slash by his collar bone that's only been remedied by a hastily put bandage.

Gwen follows right behind him, equally tired and bloodied. Her face is flat, emotion unreadable. She holds a blunderbuss to the captive’s head.

“Now, do you know her?” Hobie speaks up above the silence. Your heart skips a beat after mentioning you. “Don't keep us waiting, George. We haven't got all day.”

The navy man props himself up slowly and painfully, his joints creak, wounds opening. He looks at you through one eye, blood and bruises obscuring his vision.

He inhales scratchily, you suspect his lungs have collapsed. He chuckles and you could only look back towards Gwen who secretly shakes her head at you.

The captive laughs louder and louder, like he's lost his damn mind. “I think I know who this room belonged to, you fuckin’ snake!” he sing songs.

Gwen pushes the barrel closer to his temple, he pauses for a moment before cackling again. Hobie's knuckles tighten but his face remains indecipherable.

“Did you think bringing me here will get me to talk about what happened that day?” He makes it his mission to rile Hobie up, he's given up.

“Or are you showing me her replacement?” His eyes slither over to you, cackling more and more as his eyes roam your body.

“Enough,” Gwen finally speaks, pushing the barrel painfully close to his skin. “He asked you a question”

“You've already gotten what you need from me you fuckin' barbarians!”

Hobie closes the distance, “And we need more from you.” he bends at the waist to forcefully move the man's face towards you. “Do you know her?”

The beaten man smirked evilly, bloodied smile tempting you to hit him. He tilts his head, “Aye,” alarm bells start ringing in your head.

“The captain sent her as a spy, just look at her,” he side eyes Hobie who stares at you with his stormy eyes. “Quite a siren, huh? Were you captivated, eh ‘captain’?”

You could only look at Hobie through tearfilled eyes, pleading silently. You want to live but your mouth has clamped shut, your entire body is frozen, preventing you from laying your case.

After a minute of listening to the man praise you for your supposed work, Hobie yanks him away when George gets too close to you.

“Good on you for confirming our suspicions.” Your heart drops to your stomach. “But the details you've given us don't quite match up with what she's told us.” Hobie clicks his tongue, “I think you need to sing more for us, Georgie.”

The man's smile drops, he swallows thickly.

“Take him below.” The captain says as he reels in his anger.

Finn appears from the doorway, immediately taking the prisoner by the collar, dragging him further down the hallway, while he kicks and squirms to no avail. Gwen follows, sparing you a quick nod. She shuts the door behind her, the clicking sounds like a death knell specifically for you.

The soft lapping of the waves doesn't ease your nerves, it acts as a countdown with every hit to the side of the ship. The seagulls squawk loudly just outside your window, they're annoying but at least they're free.

After a minute of quiet and Hobie's eyes roaming around the small cabin, you hear him thud against the door. This is it, you think, picturing him taking out his cutlass to sever your head from your shoulders. Or maybe he's a gentleman, preferring to off you quick and painless with his blunderbuss.

Instead of the loud booming sound of a gun going off, you hear his voice. “What happened to your fire?”

“I'm too tired to keep it lit.” you bravely look up, he leans on the door, his shoulders and face relaxed, back slouched, knuckles bloody and broken. “Are you going to bring me below too or are you gonna end me right here?”

He frowns, “Why would I do that?”

“Because he just told you—”

Hobie sighs, you fall silent. The lines of his face are prominent as the sun rises once again. The light from the window hits him just right, bathing him in soft yellow. He closes his eyes like he's savouring the warmth.

“Men like him will do anything to bring someone else down with him.” He opens his grey eyes, the storm has calmed down behind it. “He knows he's lost.”

“You tied me up. Locked me up.”

“I know, it was for the better until I truly know you're not one of them. You're alive aren't you? Do you want me to apologize?”

“No, fuck you. I want you to thank me for saving your first mate.”

He chuckles lowly, “There it is, keep that fire yeah?”

You scoff, shaking your head.

“Sleep, you can have this cabin in the meantime.”

You glare at him, not trusting his own words.

“Here,” Hobie tosses a key at you. “my olive branch. Rest, trust me once everyone wakes from their poppy filled haze you're gonna wish you've slept.”

You hold the key in between your fingers, familiarizing yourself with the indents. “What?”

“Mend their wounds, doc. Prove your worth.” He turns to leave. “Do keep the place clean, yeah?”

You shakily stand up, locking the door behind him. Barely making it back to bed, you collapse, sleep taking you in its embrace.

—

You wake up to loud frantic knocking on your door. With a groan and sleep laden eyes, you reluctantly open the door.

Miles greets you, his smile not reaching fully to his tired eyes. “Finally! You sleep like the dead you know?”

“What's happening? Are we getting attacked again?” Your eyes roam across the cramped hallway.

“I hope not, they need you at the infirmary.”

“The ship has an infirmary?”

Following Miles through the halls and numerous stairs, you make unusual small talk.

“So…did Hobie tell you that I'm not a traitor?”

Miles stops in front of you, eyes narrowed. “Don't say the ‘T word’ around here or” he steps closer to whisper. You listen with trepidation. “or saving Gwen won't be enough for you to stay.” he looks around for a sign that someone else is listening.

“Why can't I say the ‘T word’? Did something happen back then?”

“Can you not?” He grimaces. “You can literally ask me anything else other than that.”

“Right, sorry.” You two continue to walk. “Who's MJ?”

Miles groans in annoyance. “Seriously?”

“What?! You said anything but that.”

“Alright, smart ass, anything but those two. Learn to read the room, jeez!” he shakes his head.

“Fine! How'd a kid like you end up here then? Am I allowed to ask that? Hmm?” you rile him up. This is the most fun you've had in days, anything to get rid of the thoughts swimming in your mind.

“Don’t call me kid, landlubber. If you hadn't saved Gwen back then I would throw you overboard so fast right now” Miles stomps further away from you while you chuckle.

“Yeah? And what's Gwen to you then? I see how you look at her.”

He stops with his hands on his hips, head falling in exasperation, he's too quiet.

“Miles?” oh shit. You might've gotten too far with your teasing. You weren't even sure what you said was true, it was just a wild guess.

“Is it that obvious?!” He suddenly yells, turning to look at you with his hands over his head like he's in physical pain. “You've been here for less than three days and you've noticed!”

“Please calm down.” You laugh nervously, the last thing you need right now is making Hobie's navigator cry. “I was teasing you is all.” You have no idea how to comfort the poor guy. “I won't tell anyone I promise!”

“Especially Gwen,” he points at you.

“I won't tell anyone.” you cross over your heart. “If you answer my questions” smiling mischievously, you can see Miles already regretting his choices.

“Blackmail? Really?” He huffs.

“Please it's the least you can do for me after saving the love of your life. Also blackmail is probably the lowest crime the bloodsail pirates have committed.”

Something passes by his eyes, a memory perhaps? You have no idea what it was but his eyes glissen over. He composes himself in a second, clearing his throat.

“Correction, you're not a bloodsail pirate.”

“I am for two weeks at least” you shrug.

“Finn is right, you are annoyingly talkative.”

“Hey! Talkative for his standards maybe. You try getting stuck in a small room with a silent giant and you will truly know how bored you can be.”

Miles nods, smirking like he knows something you don't. “You talk a lot to hide the fear inside you.”

Did he just psychoanalyze you?

“This crew will be the death of me, move, people are probably dying while we're talking” you walk past a grinning Miles.

Walking past a few more rooms, you spot an open door to your right. The dimly lit room catches your attention with its bookshelves full of gorgeously bound books.

“A library? You have a library here?!” You excitedly walk over to the doorframe, eyes quickly scanning the titles on the shelves. “I haven't seen a huge collection like this in my entire life.”

Miles steps over to the side, promptly shutting the door. “After you take care of my family then we can talk about library privileges.” He gives you a look that has you rolling your eyes.

“Fine, dork” you whisper the last word.

“What was that?” He clearly heard you.

“Nothing! Let's go and save some people.”

Turning the corner, leaning on the walls, there lies a line of disgruntled pirates. They hold on to their various injuries, groaning in pain. They cheer once they see you but they quickly shut up after their pain flares up from the cheering.

Walking towards the open double doors of the infirmary, they look at you with their unreadable faces. The common theme though is the ache in their bones and the blood coated shirts.

You assess each of their injuries, some are minor, only having gashes on their arms and legs. A few are bleeding through their bandages, head wrapped hastily in bandages that clearly needs to be changed immediately.

Trying to remember what she taught you, you sigh, hands clammy. You haven't handled this many people, only used to treating a couple of people at a time in your small village with her. Times like this, you can't help but miss her. Shaking your head, you can't let your mind wander again, right when the people who are helping you stay literally afloat need you.

But you can't handle this many people alone.

“Uh…who’s more injured?” you ask.

They all raise their injured hands.

“Okay, who's still bleeding?”

Half of them raise their hands.

As if sensing your panic, Pavitr comes up behind you, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Need my help? I'm not that good with blood but I'm sure I can help. and Miles can help too, right, bud?” Pav catches Miles who's sneaking away to leave. “Where are you going?”

“Uh… to look for Ned, yeah! He can help too.”

Ned yells from inside the infirmary, “I'm already in here! I was the one who told you to fetch Y/N, remember?”

You and Pavitr share a look.

“Yep yep! I'm coming to help, see?” He stops when he's inside the small clinic. “Oh man, that's a huge needle you have there Ned”

You clasp Miles on his trembling shoulder, “Don't worry I'll keep it away from you. For a price of course.”

Miles huffs, gritting his teeth. “You get three questions.”

“Good–”

“After you're done here”

“Fine.” you enter the room with a roll of your eyes. The smell of poppy, ointment and iron fills your senses. Suddenly you're back at home, the roaring fire from the stone fireplace warms you as the huge book in your lap has you enthralled by the illustration of human anatomy.

Groaning brings you back to the present. The first thing you see is Ned tending to ugly mug, his back exposed. Ned’s huge needle is sewing up a deep cut just below the man's shoulder.

“Give it to me straight, mate, I'm gonna look even uglier now aren't I?” He asks Ned.

You scrunch up your nose after seeing his face still good looking and injury free.

Turning around to face Pav and Miles, you try to remember her teachings, you can still feel her hands guiding your own as she rambles on how you should always wash your hands before treating someone. It's been years since then, her voice is nothing but a memory, slowly fading away as you grow older.

You haven't been practicing much, but you kept up with your knowledge by reading pamphlets as much as you can. It's a useful skill afterall, especially when you travel. With an exhale, you start instructing the two.

“Pav,” he straightens up. “get me some hot water from the galley and the purest alcohol Finn has.”

“Got it, I have to fight Finn though” he runs off with determination in his eyes.

“Miles, I need you to triage” you continue as you head off to the basin to clean in between your nails. The dried blood from your fingernails turns the water murky and brown.

“Put the people in front of the line who need to get treated first and with the most severe injuries while the people with the least severe injury to the back of the line.” You look over your shoulder. “Understood?”

“I'm doing it but not because you told me to.” he goes out of the room, already yelling at his impatient crew mates. You hear someone saying ‘what the fuck is a triage? use english!’

You look at Ned. “Please tell me you washed your hands.”

—

You're incredibly hungry, again. Your fingers ache from all the sewing and patching you've done. Your hands smell like herbs and ointments. The muscles in your hands still shake from all the bullets you had to carefully take out. But everyone seems to be stable now, thanks to you.

Washing your hands in the newly replenished basin, you hear footfalls against wood from above. For a second your mind flings back to the fight, you pinch your pinky to distract yourself from the image.

A plate clangs behind you. Looking over your shoulder, Miles is once again trying to sneak away.

“Thanks, Miles” You genuinely smile at him, just looking at the hot plate of mashed potatoes and beans has your stomach grumbling.

“Fine, ask away” he sits across from you, arms crossed on his chest.

“I actually forgot about that, thank you for mentioning it.” You smile mockingly, taking the plate to finally eat.

“What? Oh come on, man” he points suspiciously at you. “Why are you so curious?”

“Because human beings are naturally curious.” Miles makes a face. “Fine, I want to know the backstory of the legendary bloodsail pirates. I mean can you blame me? I have to live with the crew for two weeks.”

He sighs, convinced. “As long as the answers to your questions are already known by the navy,” you nod, “ask away.”

You chuckle. “First question, Where did Hobie get this huge ship?”

“Stole it, next question”

“Really? you're not gonna elaborate on that? I got the needles far away from you the entire time.”

He clicks his tongue. “Stole it from a rich merchant ship years ago with just his wits and a blunderbuss. He's been upgrading it since then, you can barely see the original facade.”

“I gotta admit it to him, that sounds like a good story to tell.”

“Maybe if you play nice he can tell it to you someday.”

You sigh, “Some mysteries just have to stay a mystery.”

He chuckles softly, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Second question,” you take another spoonful of beans, chewing while talking. “Where did he get his crew?”

Miles looks at you with disgust. “Swallow first, Christ. Some joined later on, some like Gwen, Pav, Finn and I have been with him from the start.”

“Elaborate? Or I'll chew with my mouth open”

“What is wrong with you? I'm not done yet, jeez.” He looks like he's about to jump away from you. “A few of us were running from getting drafted during the war, only having us as their only option or go to jail.” You listen intently.

“But most of us joined after hearing about us, wanting to be pirates but they want to give back to the people instead of just taking and plundering for gold.” he scratches the back of his neck. “I guess some of us are more into it rather than just pure survival.”

“Wait, you do that? Like some sort of pirate Robin Hood?”

Miles looks at you surprised. “Of course we do, I'm guessing that doesn't make it to the sunday news huh?” he sighs. “Well that's what we do, we only take from the rich and give it back to the people who need it most. Most of the time the nobles and merchants don't suffer much loss from it.”

“Well until I see it for myself I'll think otherwise. Next question—”

“Nope, you've already asked your three questions!” He cackles.

“Wait, the last one doesn't count! Come on, one last very important one that if I don't get the answer to, I will combust.”

Miles pouts his lips, thinking like it's the most difficult thing ever. “Hmmm, you blowing up into tiny pieces sounds great actually.”

“I won't tell Gwen you're utterly in love with her. Just one last thing.”

“You won't tell anyone”

“I promise! And when I promise I intend to keep it.”

He exhales the most tired exhale ever. “Ask”

You smile. “Why follow Hobie?”

Miles stares at you directly, none of the annoyed look he's given, no boyish charm you've seen the entire day you've spent with him and the crew. He looks like a proper pirate with his back straight and loyalty emanating just from his tone.

“Because it's Hobie,” he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “You have no idea the things he's sacrificed for us. Before we were a crew he— I owe him my life. And it's not blind loyalty, we're all free to leave if we don't want to follow him to the end. Some have already left.” He says the last part forlornly. “I guess I follow him because he's family, not just my captain.”

You look at your half eaten meal, family, you haven't heard that in ages. You have family somewhere, you're sure of it. In your journeys you've had people, friends, but not enough to be called your family; they haven't come close to what you had with her in that little cabin of yours in the middle of nowhere.

If only greed wasn't a thing, you'd still be with her.

You feel a ghost of your necklace graze your chest, instinctively holding on to it for comfort, disappointing yourself when you can't grasp it.

“Y/N?”

You clear your throat, fighting the tears from flowing. “So if he's your family and the crew is also your family, does that mean you're in love with Gwen who's supposedly your family? Hmmm?”

“You know what I meant! What is truly wrong with you?!”

“What? I'm just asking!”

“Oh really? Well you use humour as a crutch!”

You gasp, “Rude!”

“Yep that's you! Miss ‘I make jokes during serious conversations’”

“Understood, now where did I put that needle?” you act like you're trying to find it, patting your pockets.

“Nope, I'm already gone!” He's sprinting away from you. “You're needed in the galley by the way!” His muffled yell makes you laugh.

Another day, another quiet day in the galley for you.

—

During dinner, you've noticed the empty chairs, the sound of the waves crashing and utensils scraping still echoing in your ears as you watch them bring out their dead from below.

The full moon witnesses the crew put their dead on the now pillaged navy ship. The bodies wrapped carefully in white sheets. There's no breeze blowing or waves lapping at the sides of the ship. Everything's at a standstill.

The eerie silence has you standing by the edge of the crowd. Not a part of it but not truly alone.

The gas lamps illuminate the crew's expressions. You're not used to seeing their faces look so devastated, especially after all the laughs you've shared with them while mending their wounds mere hours ago.

You know it's not your place to be here or to even stand with them while they're mourning their friends. But you stay because if it's the other way around you'd want the only outsider to mourn with you, to stand in solidarity with you even if she doesn't know how the people you're laying down on the cold wood used to comfort you through the storm and how they used to hate the summer heat.

You'd want the outsider to know that they once lived.

The floorboards creak as Hobie lays the last body on the navy boat's deck, kneeling by the side to say his final farewell. After a moment, he stands up, knuckles so tightly closed that you can see his hands shake from where you're standing.

He cuts the rope tied to the mast, the sails unfurl, the slight breeze making it move slowly. Hobie jumps back to the revenge before the navy ship sails too far.

With his crew right behind him, you all watch as the ship sails for the final time. Hobie takes a musket from Gwen, they share a comforting look briefly before he takes aim at the ship. The shot echoes out, hitting the barrel full of gunpowder directly. Fire immediately bellows, engulfing the wooden ship.

The fire cackles further away but it still warms your cheeks. Orange and yellow dancing on the water as the mast burns and falls into the depths with a splash.

A soft voice sings a mellow tune, the lyrics full of sorrow and longing for what they've lost.

You look over to the source of the song, Yuri has her eyes glued to the flaming ship, her cadence echoes out to the open sea, the rest join in, goosebumps flare up on your arms. They sing about how the sea has claimed them but they aren't truly lost for they still sail the endless depths with the stars as their guide.

The singing ends and as everyone goes their separate ways, Hobie stays behind, watching as the fire devours the ship. With one last look, you head to your cabin, head full of thoughts that you'd rather not let it fester or it might consume you like the fire outside razing the once mighty ship.

The tune still stays with you until your head hits the soft pillow, you wonder how many times they've sung it together.

That night you wake up to someone screaming from above, cursing Hobie's name. Frantic footsteps dance above, you can hear a gun clicking. Recognizing the former lieutenant's voice, you fall back under the covers, jumping in place as you hear the gun go off followed by a splash and then a sudden silence.

For the next two days, you get acclimated to your life on the people's revenge. Having some sort of routine. In the morning you go to the infirmary to help clean their wounds and change their bandages, single handedly stopping infection. The survival rate of the injured has increased tenfold with your help. They greet you with a smile every morning, sometimes calling you ‘doc’ and you correct them everytime.

You haven't seen Hobie the past two days, always getting glimpses of him in the halls as he turns a corner. None of the crew have seen him out either. You wonder if he's had anything to eat in the past few days.

You've encountered how grief could consume someone, you hope you don't witness it again.

At lunch, you cook with Finn in the galley, making conversation, telling him stories you've heard during your journeys as he grunts and huffs in reply. You've gotten used to the quiet in the kitchen with only the waves outside and the bubbling pot filling your ears.

The crew have gotten better after the loss, they've started laughing again, making jokes and even including you to the conversation. You keep finding yourself chuckling among them during dinner.

After the day ends, you bring Pavitr his tea as he gets ready for another long night shift of sailing. As you head down to the library, you check in on Miles as he toils on a map, studying every detail, making sure the ship's on track. You bring him his cup, he's stopped looking at the tea suspiciously after the third time you've given him one.

You hear arguing in Hobie's cabin again, the voices are different each time you pass through but you don't dare eavesdrop, you swear that man has eyes everywhere.

The library has become your sanctuary, not the cabin you're temporarily placed in. You get a weird feeling everytime you enter the small room, like you don't quite belong in the obviously lived in space. There's tiny trinkets hidden on shelves, some are quite peculiar, unlike anything you've ever seen. You keep finding drawings and journal pages tucked in the corners and the bed frame, the ink already too faded to read or to even make out the art. You surmise the old resident of the cabin pushed the papers in there to stop the draft.

As you sit down on the lumpy green armchair of the library, the oil lamp illuminating the pages with only the moon as your companion; you get sucked into the yellowed pages, burrowing into every word printed, making a home for yourself in between the letters written by authors you'll never meet in your lifetime.

A soft knock brings your soul back to the old library, your eyes adjust in the darkness, his silhouette leaning casually on the doorway.

“So this is where you vanish off to every night” you can barely make out his face but you know he's smirking by the way his lip piercing glints in the lamp.

“Am I not allowed, Captain?” he chuckles. The sound reverberated around the room. A ghost of a smile passes by your lips.

“Keep callin' me like that and you might find yourself having special treatment.”

“And what exactly is the special treatment?”

Hobie shrugs, raising a finger up as he lists them down. “Havin' your own cabin, getting fed twice in a day, access to the ship's library, did I mention staying dry and alive?”

“You've mentioned it once or twice.” You sigh, gathering courage for what you're about to ask. “I've got a question, Cap.”

Hobie scoffs, “Heard you've been asking those a lot. One of these days your curious arse will get you killed.” You shrug, ignoring his comment. “You know I'd hunt you down if any of this information gets to the navy right?”

“I know, and I'm not a fucking snitch especially after you've kept your word of letting me stay even though you did use me as bait when you were interrogating the navy man.”

“Come off it,” he clicks his tongue. “I did not use you as bait.”

“Sure, and you don't have trust issues, Hobie Brown”

“Likewise, Y/N asshole.” he enters the room and into the light. You don't miss his snarky nickname for you. “Can a person with trust issues do this?” Hobie tosses a bag right on your lap.

You recognize the satchel, blinking in surprise “My bag!” You scan the contents down to the small bag of coins finding everything is still in its place. “Did you happen to see a necklace? It has a circular pendant with a bird engraved on it.”

“No, it doesn't ring a bell. Trust me somethin’ like that would've left a mark.”

You frown, hope diminished. Hobie gestures towards the seat in front of you, asking permission. You nod, letting him in your personal bubble.

“What are you reading?” He sits across from you on the rickety rocking chair, groaning, knees cracking.

“Just a story about some Greek hero that my m– I used to read back then.”

He nods, not mentioning the blunder. “I don't think Theseus is just some bloke.” You chuckle softly. “Y’know there's a much better read than that over…” he twists around, taking a book right behind him. “Here” he hands it off to you, calloused fingers grazing yours.

Turning the small book around, you shake your head with a subtle smile. “‘How to conquer your fears volume five: Learn how to swim by Sir Riordan of Canterbury’ Very funny”

Hobie stifles a laugh, a genuine smile across his face. “Thought it was appropriate.” he crosses a leg over the other, shoulders relaxed.

“What was your question, scuttlebutt? Ask me before I change my mind, ‘m feeling generous today.”

Your hands play with the spine of the old book. “Why haven't you killed me yet? After what George said, why didn't you believe him that I'm a traitor?”

He visibly stiffened, “You can't be called a traitor if you were never part of the crew, eh?” your heart thumps louder as he observes your every move.

“Also that's two questions,” the moonlight hits his fatigued face, you stare into those eyes that threaten to bring you under, but you swim out just in time before it drags you down. “good thing they have the same answers.”

You blink slowly, fingers nervously pick at the dry skin on your thumb.

“Your rucksack,” he points with chin. “I didn't pay enough attention to it when you first arrived but when I had my suspicions I had to check. First the coins or the lack thereof. If you were a navy spy they'd give you enough to use it as a bargaining tool.”

“You calling me poor?”

“Yes” he doesn't miss a beat. “Second your shoes, the bloody thing is thinner than Finn's flat bread.” you suck in your teeth in annoyance. “And that–” he leans closer, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Your fuckin' attitude, you didn't even try to play nice. You just did what you were told so you could survive. The only time you're actually nice is when nobody else is lookin'” you scoff while he continues on.

“Don't think I didn't notice you during the funeral or whenever you give Pav and Miles their tea. You stay along the edges of the crew, lingering, not really looking for any approval. But you're there, acting like you don't care but based on the careful stitches and gentle hands, you care, a lot.”

You grit your teeth, letting him read you like an open book that you've kept hidden behind the shelves, under all the more interesting books.

“Spies ease their way into the crew with effort, you did it unintentionally. You didn't hesitate saving Gwen, you could've done anything else in an attempt to escape but you helped and you stayed. You're not a spy, I think you just want to belong somewhere—”

You cut him off, “What makes you think I want to join your rag tag group?”

Hobie looks like he's about to swallow you whole, ignoring your last snarky comment, he continues his rant. “You want to belong even if it’s on a damn pirate ship. You're a genuine stowaway.”

“Alright, you're quite perceptive then, but that doesn't answer my question on why you haven't killed me yet.” you bravely face him. “You said it yourself, you would kill me if any information about you and the crew comes out from me. And you told me I needed the coin so what's stopping me from going to the nearby governor and selling off the information the moment we land?”

“Because you're running too,” his eyes shine in the low light, looking at you mischievously. “I don't know from whom or if you're wanted like us but I do know you're not gonna risk your freedom for a few coins.”

Hobie beams at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And lastly, I'm gonna need you before I let you go.”

[fuesch]

Agatha All Along 1x05, part 1 (*shakes fist at character limit*)

Has the episode title always had one part appear and then the rest or is that just to make this ominous title even more so?

Oopsy, through the green-witch "portal" the Salem Seven come. Seems like something a portal for such a specific summons shouldn't do, not to mention that that the Witches' Road is such an exclusive place. So I'm hoping this is more because of the power of the Salem Seven. Or maybe Rio - since that portal was for her - helped.

If the Nazgul weren't on the inspiration board for the Salem Seven, I'd be shocked.

Oh, I wondered how time works on the Road. If the witches wouldn't need to sleep, that maybe time is dilated on the road and their body clocks would still be on real time. But no, they're sleeping, which makes me think that the reason Agatha wasn't there must be that she needed to pee. If you have the need for one essential rl thing, the others will be there too. I sure hope there's enough food in those trial houses.

Congrats to Teen being attacked by one of the Salem Seven - so nice to be considered part of the coven! :P

Teen, I love you, but your pronunciation of Hexenbesen is terrible.

I love it when Lilia goes on one of her rants.

Aw, I like how, despite the brooms being out of fashion, the witches still know how to make them. Impractical though that you can't make one by yourself.

The Road turning upside down to force the witches back to the ground is cool! And it got this glorious witch cackle out of Rio.

Oh, there's actually a house. I was wondering if the Salem Seven were Agatha's trial.

Aw yeah, 80s PJ party! Mmm, so much crochet everywhere. And do I detect some Stranger Thingsy synth?

"Whose trial is this?" Didn't you notice the color of the leaves and stuff? …Nah, okay, I don't blame you, Teen, you had a lot going on.

"And who better to commune with the dead than someone who's put so many in the grave?" Oh, right! What if Agatha & Rio's relationship came about by Agatha happening to be helpful for Rio's job?

Why do people say that "a" in "ouija" like that?

Pfft, even Lilia wears a Casio.

The game is for ages 3 and up. I'm guessing this is a dig at the games that say "[low number]-99".

I gave up trying to put the letters together when there were 4 consonants in a row, so I can't tell you if I would have read it as Mr. Shart or Mrs. Hart.

I'm disappointed Agatha just put on a show to kill time (aw, look at how well Rio knows her), because obviously I'm waiting to see Sharon again.

Wait, now that Agatha is serious about the ouija board, she says the "maiden, mother, crone". The first time she said it in the wrong order, so that might have kept the game from actually starting.

Aw, look at Rio laughing about the board saying "death". She's just having the time of her life on the Road.

"Lilia is being weird again." Hey, be nice, Teen! And what's so weird about it? She didn't even like when Agatha faked the spirit, so of course when it's real it becomes scarier.

Only when Jen puts away her retainer, I noticed that she had one. Was it ever even visible? I only remember that she did something at her teeth, after she entered the house.

"Familiars don't get a vote." Yeah, speaking of those, how important are they to the Road? You know, since they're mentioned in the Ballad and those lyrics function as instructions. But I guess it means only if you have one, you should take it with you. …Wait, did I just finally get it? I guess the point was to let the other witches be okay with Teen's presence. Okay cool, better late then never.

Alice, holding up the lamp, gets to show off her abs.

Possessed Agatha lifts Jen by the throat and we get a glimpse of the latter's bunny slippers. Those deserved a moment more of attention, I think. And am I imagining it or do they glow in the dark?

Oh so that's what ghosts look like here. Nice.

"Stop embarrassing me in front of my friends, mom."

I love that we're finally clearing up Agatha's flashback from WandaVision! But wow, I didn't think it would be so depressing as her own mom stating that Agatha was born evil.

Hey, we're finally seeing the wispy type of magic being used in this show about witches. Protection witch to the rescue, woo!

Argh, what does Lilia say with those tarot-card names?!

Oh shit, Agatha is sucking in Alice's power. But you're not killing Alice, are you?!

Teen reading from the ouija board what feels like the longest name ever. But hiiii, Nicky!

It looked like Agatha couldn't really stop, that power just is, so I guess that's why Evanora thought she was evil since birth. She didn't learn it, it has always been there. Although… when would someone have first blasted her? As a teenager would make most sense to me, but maybe Agatha was already super annoying as a little kid and so got blasted early. I always thought the way she acted in her flashback was suspicious, but thinking about it now makes it make sense. If she had to deal with people (her own mom even) judging her for a power she can't even control, of course she'd be super resentful by the age of 18. She does something when the magic flow changes, but it's not intended to kill or absorb magic. It's just a defense mechanism and once it gets going, it can't be turn it off. Huh, Wanda and Agatha have some things in common.

No! You didn't just really, actually kill off Alice for real?! She only just passed her trial, you can't do that! I mean, I know there's the habit of showing more of a character right before they're killed off, but come on! She passed her trial, she just made her life better - it would be so unfair to kill her now.

The orange in Agatha's hand looks so weird. Is she "quoting" it or why does the magic have that color still? Is it supposed to tell us that it's not enough yet to count as her own power? Oh, then it goes up in smoke. I guess it wasn't Agatha, the magic did that itself. OMFG, then Alice's death wasn't even good for anything.

And now we follow the yellow-leaved Road, so it's Lilia's trial next.

Huh, Agatha's is the first failed trial. I wonder if the coven's overall success counts at the end or if Agatha has no chance of getting what she came for - from the Road at least. Although I'm super in denial about Alice, so Agatha probably hasn't fail yet.

"Death comes for us all." Aw, poor resigned Lilia. But I'm sure the rest (that includes her) is gonna be fine.

[ennyxy-reblogs-stuff-here]

Alright, finally writing this! Yay!

I dunno exactly where to post it or send it cuz it prolly wouldn’t fit in a regular reply and I don’t wanna send a wall of an ask, so I’ll just do this via a reblog on my, well, reblogging blog, since I’ve already reblogged this to my main before. And I’ll put the rest of this under the cut to be more compact too!

So, first of all, I've said this before and I will say it again. I absolutely adore this!! This was extremely fun to read and you’ve done some great work as usual, I love your writing style ^^ Anywho, I’m just gonna go over some of the stuff I really appreciated or found amusing while reading as well as I could, I’m not great at organizing thoughts for comments specifically for some reason :D

Okay so, first, the additional comments from Luz on how much she struggled at first and how King and Eda even made fun of her at first was great, I feel like that definitely was something Colly would beneft from hearing in more detail than in show.

Moving on, I can’t express just how happy the inclusion of Raine in the next scene and all the scenes moving forward made me! They are one of my six absolute favorites in the show (that’s a few I know but can you blame me jhfrjdg) so ofc it did. Also gotta love how Belos fooled absolutely nobody (except for Colly but dw kiddo not your fault) they just saw the goop and were like, nope!

And theeeen, hoo boy, the next part tho!!! Les just say, usually what I’ve seen is the scenario playing as “smth happens to King, Collector angst ensues” or the like, and that being flipped the other way, hahaa, had fun with that for sure :D Pretty brief moment of angst there, sure, but as someone who enjoys consuming content like that I loved it, especially with these characters. Also I’ll just never be able to get over how the kiddos clearly grew to care for one another istg QwQ

After that ofc the lil literal blorbo form shows up and there’s a lil precious moment of relief, and cool stuff happens and I really like the little moment of the mindscape. Now, speaking of Nightingale, I love them and their design so so muuuch hbvgbfg They are adorable! Also going off on a tiny tangent, two characters sharing a body for one reason or another is just so fun whenever that happens anywhere, especially with how they are written and how the author chooses to make a distinction to make it clear who’s speaking or who’s in control. I’ve been rereading a different fic from another fandom that has another situation like this with two supporting characters and the small details in writing here and there are just so neat. Also I love the bits of internal dialogue in the character’s minds in these cases too, I imagine em absorbed in a conversation on the inside and just gone from reality for a second and it looks like they are just spacing out hehe

Anyways that tiny moment where Belos realizes where exactly Colly went, calling them a loathsome angel n grumbling. He was prolly so pissed :P

To the nightmare sequence! I was just very happy to see nearly every one of the team realize what’s up n stuff, they’re all so strong and so cool not letting Belos control them with their fears and nightmares. Raine in particular always came off like such a strong and admirable character, I just, they! Them, Titan Trappers and what the Collector thinks of them and their ideas will always amuse me, and that moment of Nightingale going “screw you”, ye you go kiddos tell em what you think! :D And on Eda’s part, her small rant on their friendship had me cackle aloud she’s prolly so tired of hearing Collector this King that or smth whjegrhjb

And as for Luz, her guilt and fears really dragged her down in that moment, huh. Small point on her nightmare illusion sequence tho, the whole thing with the green cocoons for some reason made me imagine one of Queen Chrysalis’ cocoons as the imagery.

Alright so, things go back to a more canon happening, and I really love how you managed to make all those changes still working around canon and keeping all the important details and lessons and adding onto it. And further making Colly recognize the gravity of all the things he was witness to with the Titans and Grimwalkers, showing how he made the connection and then also making him realize that it could happen to him as well, ooof. And of course King snapping out of his grief to grab them by the hand so as to not let it happen QwQ

Raine and Stringbean teaming up in that moment to also contribute to the fight was very sweet too :<

And then Luz comes back, and Nightingale ending up fetching the rest of the team, and the epic showdown ensues with absolutely everyone working together, aaaa that was so good everyone got a moment to shine one way or another!!! And Raine being included in that whole dance-like sequence, and Colly being involved as well via Nightingale I just njdngfdjkgr words can’t describe how happy I was!! Made my morning on the day I first read this! Belos stood no chance in canon as it is, but here they all just absolutely obliterated him!

And honestly, how damn satisfying it was too see every one of them get to kick his head around the place, getting back at him for every terrible thing he’s done to them, gah!! You know, you said it was maybe going too far? Maybe, but who gives a damn it was so worth it he deserved it :DD (I remember watching the ep with my bestie when it came out and the moment before just chanting “kill him! Kiill him!!! Kill hiiim!!” and just going absolutely ham when the owl fam stomped on what was left of him as it is, but if this happened I think they’d hear me on the other side of the planet for sure jkngerg)

Last but not least, of course, the goodbyes. It’s not much, but the little extension of the scene at the end made me happy, and using Dana’s words of “they’ll always have each other”??? As if I didn’t cry from the “I hope I see you again” enough come onnn! That moment is just, everything to me TvT

Anyway, apologies from recounting the whole fic lol, and if there are typos here since am not proofreading, this is 1.1K words already what the heck this aint a fanfic it’s a comment evjigrvnvg But I just had to write everything down in case you like long comments like I do, since I really really enjoyed this! The Platinum Bones duo has me in shambles and this just made me very happy and was a blast, just, thank you so much for getting this out there <3

hey you!! do you like fusions?? self indulgent canon divergent aus full of stuff fans might have asked for??? WHAT ABOUT PLATINUM BONES (KING AND COLLECTORS DYNAMIC)?? then have i got the deal for you!!!!

from the foreword on the doc:

Nightingale is a “what if” canon divergent exercise that asks the bold question of “what if Collector still had a blobby goopy true form? And what if King was able to fuse with that and get cool super powers so he could also look cool and pose with Titan Luz and Harpy Eda?” And so was born Nightingale!

read their story here! have fun!

[heyyyharry]

Happier

(inspired by happier by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.4k

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Part 1: Drivers License

Part 2: Deja Vu

A/N: I edited the original lyrics to match the POV :)

.

.

.

Harry had come up with a thousand scenarios of how this day would play out. Actually, he’d been thinking of this day since the moment he’d received the news. He didn’t dare to hope that she’d say yes to coming back for a sequel. He’d been sure that they would write her character off, give a lame excuse for how his love interest could not make a return and make his character forget about her completely to move on with a new girl in town. It would have been great if it was that easy in real life. Once someone was written off the script, they were gone for good. Real-life relationships were not that simple. Goodbye didn’t mean ‘never see you again’. You would still share the same friend circle and social bubbles, and it was worse when you two worked in the same industry. Harry didn’t know how he’d lasted a year without running into her, not since the Grammys.

“Didn’t you two date?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, but his eyes stayed glued on Y/N from across the room. She wasn’t looking his way, too busy saying hello to everyone else. “No,” he repeated, more to himself than to his co-star. “We didn’t.”

“But she wrote an entire album about you,” said the other twin. What was her name again? Lulu?

“Luna!” cried her sister, Lex. “You can’t ask him that!”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said with a tight smile, slightly annoyed by the blonde twins, but he didn’t want to seem like an ass on the first day of filming. “And I don’t know if it was for me. You should ask Y/N.”

“Ask me what?”

Harry flinched when he looked up and saw Y/N padding towards them. She hugged the twins, who seemed way too excited. Harry guessed they were Y/N’s fans. They gave off crazy fangirl vibes, probably just pretending not to know the drama to interrogate him. He couldn’t blame them for assuming he was the villain and definitely could not blame Y/N for portraying him as one. It was more important that he knew who he was and how much he had changed since his last relationship. Maybe they could finally be friends.

“Were they bothering you?” Y/N asked him once the twins had left.

Harry nodded. “They’re your friends?”

“Oh, I met them last year on tour. I’m surprised you don’t know them. They were on Disney.”

“I don’t watch Disney,” Harry admitted with a smile. “Well, not today’s Disney.”

“Understandable.” Y/N nodded and bit her lip. She seemed guarded with her straight back and hands hidden behind her. She eyed him up and down, quite subtle yet noticeable. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” he said, nodding slowly. “You?”

“Yeah, but mostly tired because of tour.”

“You’re done?”

“Yup, last night was the last show.”

“Nice.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Nice?”

Harry blinked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Y/N giggled. “You still sound very...you.”

“Well, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, you should. But it’s been a year so…I mean, you haven’t changed much.”

“Right,” he said lowly, his eyes falling to his feet. Harry supposed he should say something else, perhaps bringing up another random topic to discuss, but all he could think about was what had happened between them. Things had been messy, hadn’t they? How could they go back to before that? Before her first song about him. Before he’d chosen someone else over her.

Or he could talk about her new relationship. She’d been in a happy relationship for almost six months, right? No wait, hadn’t they broke up two weeks ago? He wasn’t sure because he hadn’t been catching up. If they’d broken up, he’d sound like an ass to even mention her ex’s name. He should just stay quiet.

“I’ll see you later?” she said, gesturing at her stylist who was waiting by the door.

Harry could ask her right now -- the reason she’d agreed to film the sequel to their first movie together. He’d heard from a very reliable source that she’d specifically asked her agent to decline any project that he was in. So did this mean they were good? That she didn’t hate him anymore? He could have gathered his courage and got the answer right then…

“Yeah, see you.”

...but he didn’t.

And so she gave him a smile and a little wave, then happily returned to her stylist.

.

.

.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

“See you, Annie!” Y/N said as she put the rest of her things into her tote bag. Her new driver had got her schedule mixed up, and so she had to wait here for another half an hour. She was in no rush. It had been a light first day, and she’d had a fun time getting to know the new cast members and catching up with old friends.

She sat on the sofa in the lobby, legs crossed, texting her best friend about her day. She’d purposely left out the short off-screen conversation with Harry, and her best friend didn’t even bother to ask. In their world, he didn’t exist, and his name was censored in every conversation like a curse word that was even worse than ‘cunt’. Nevertheless, she didn’t hate him anymore. She was doing just fine on her own, being busy with her career, and she’d been in a happy relationship after her fall out with him.

She and the guy, a model, had broken up two weeks ago due to long distance and some differences that they could not change. They had ended on good terms and decided to stay friends. They said you could only stay friends with your ex when you still had feelings for each other, or you had never loved each other that much in the first place. For her, it was probably the latter. Her previous relationship had been more platonic than romantic, apparently. So she had nothing but the best to say about him.

As she was going through her camera roll, just reminiscing about the past, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up to find Harry. He offered a smile and gestured to the spot beside her on the sofa. “May I sit here? My ride is late.”

“Yeah, sure.” She hurriedly scooted over.

“Good job today,” he said. “You were great.”

“Thanks, so were you.” She smiled, and they both looked away at the same time. This was so awkward. She hated small talk. She’d never had to have small talk with Harry. Conversations with him used to be so easy and natural and silly. Whatever this was, it wasn’t them.

“Can we just be normal?”

At first, Y/N thought she’d been the one who’d said it, so when she realised it’d been Harry, she was speechless.

He swallowed and sat a bit straighter, still not looking at her. “I don’t want us to be weird and awkward.”

“Okay,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “Wanna try again?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, not to sound like an ass but when Joey kept forgetting his lines, I was so pissed off, I could throw a chair at the wall.”

“Right?!” exclaimed Y/N, feeling free to have finally broken out of her shell. “Like, he doesn’t even have many lines. I know he’s new but damn...you can’t get far if you don’t learn your goddamn lines.”

Harry shook with laughter. “Oh God, we sound like dicks, don’t we?”

“Maybe.” Y/N laughed, covering her mouth. “But you know what? We can’t be nice in this industry. It’s impossible.”

“Shhh, if someone heard this, we would be into big trouble.”

“Oh please, I’ve had worse articles written about me than ‘Y/N speaks facts about her lazy co-star’.”

Harry tossed his head back and cackled. “The worst one I’ve got this week was ‘Harry Styles hates therapists.’”

“What?!” Y/N gasped. “No way! That’s so stupid!”

“Right?” Harry rolled his eyes. “I could get all my therapists to speak up for me but I’m kinda immune to bullshit now.”

“Therapists? Like plural?”

“Yeah, one in every city.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N rubbed her hands onto her legs. “Rough year?”

Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he leaned back. “You have no idea.” Then he swept his hair out of his eyes, sucked in a breath, and finally looked at her. “I wish I could have talked to you, though.”

She bit her tongue, knowing what she was about to say next would disappoint her best friend so much, but she had to. “So do I.”

Harry looked taken aback before his lips curled into a smile. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I haven’t talked to you in a year, and I feel like I know everything that’s happened to you except that I don’t.”

What he’d just said might make no sense for most people, but Y/N knew exactly what he meant. She nodded and wetted her lip. “You only know as much as everyone else does.”

“Yeah, I got updates on you from the news and our friends.”

“Same.” Y/N smiled back. “I hate how they write articles about your new haircut but not mine.”

“I like your new hair colour.”

“Thanks. I like your new car.”

Then they both burst out laughing. It was fun and also a little bit strange that Y/N didn’t feel the same anxiety talking to him as she used to. It must be because they had grown and were now meeting again as better people.

“Damn, my ride's here,” Y/N said as she read the text from her driver. “I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry stood up and followed Y/N to the entrance. “Hey, just wondering--”

“Yeah?”

“Am I...am I still blocked?” He looked a bit flustered as she tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “On your phone. Because I remember you having my number blocked--”

“I unblocked you on your birthday.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugged. “I should’ve sent you a happy birthday text but...I didn’t want your girlfriend to get the wrong ideas.”

“My ex.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They smiled at each other one last time before saying goodbye. Y/N knew it was silly, but she was hoping he would go after her.

Ding.

A notification popped up when she was in the car. She was almost home, and it was from Harry’s number. He’d sent her a link with a message that said, “Hope you like it :)”.

Curious, she tapped on it and was directed to an audio file titled ‘Track 5’. The upload date was last year. About two weeks after their short conversation at the Grammys.

Hurriedly, she fumbled inside her bag for her iPods and put it on before she pressed play.

“Hey, Jeff, I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this song. Listen and let me know if it should go on the album.”

Then came the piano intro. It sounded good, so Y/N wondered how it hadn’t ended up on his last album.

But when he started to sing...

We ended a while ago Your friends are mine, you know, I know You've moved on, found someone new One more guy who brings out the better in you

And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But he’s so nice, he’s so funny Does he mean you forgot about me?

Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

And does he tell you you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen? An eternal love bullshit he might not even mean Remember when you were with me I meant it when you heard it first from me

And now I'm pickin' him apart Like cuttin' him down will make you miss my wretched heart But he’s charming, he looks kind He probably gives you butterflies

I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy I wish you all the best, really Say you love him, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on him I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

The song was for her. He’d written it when her new relationship had gone public. Y/N sat there, staring blankly ahead until the honking of a car tore open her inner peace, and reality came crashing back in. The driver dropped her off at her house. Instead of going inside, she stood on her front steps and replayed the song one more time. When it ended, she decided to text him: Why didn’t this make it to the album?

She didn’t know where he was now, but it showed ‘typing’ in less than a second, as if he’d been waiting in their chat since he’d sent that link.

You would’ve hated me, Y/N.

True, she replied. Still, I would’ve loved the song lowkey. And added, I love it btw.

He took so long to type that it was driving her crazy. She flopped down on the concrete stair with her phone clutched in her hands, her heart thundering against her ribcage. Anxiety popped like a balloon when his message appeared: Were you happier?

She reread it again and again.

No.

I wasn’t either, he responded. I kept getting deja vu.

Ha, nice reference.

That song is my guilty pleasure. Love listening to you roasting me on loop.

That last message made Y/N bury her face into her palm and giggle like a fool. She thought for a second and wrote: I could come roast you in person now if that’s what you prefer. I think we’ve never had a proper roasting.

Can we meet, Y/N? Or are you busy now?

No, not busy.

Great, I’ll pick you up.

Just tell me where, she responded with a smile on her face. I got my drivers license now :)

[thegreymoon]

Love Like the Galaxy

LMAO, I can’t believe they are already trying to minimise what Xiao Yuanyi did.

What are you even saying? She hit a teenager hard enough to leave bruises and swelling, that is plenty. Is killing her that step too far for you? 😠

Anyway, fuck Yuanyi and all attempts to whitewash her treatment of her daughter. 

***

Yes, baby, make your intentions clear!

***

LMAO, Third Aunt and Uncle look pleased 😂😂

***

Aww, look how happy he is, thinking she sent the snacks!

***

LMAO, this comedy 🤣🤣

I am normally not a fan of the third person getting in the way of the OTP, but even though I know they will get engaged, I’ve also been spoiled enough to know that the engagement will be short-lived, so I’ve decided to enjoy the cuteness for as long as it lasts instead of getting irritated on Murder Baby’s behalf. 

***

Good girl 😂😂

Zisheng is going to be all that for you, and more! He may be a little... well, murderous, but he’ll be so obedient and supportive of you!! 🖤 Just you wait!!

***

Cackling 🤣🤣

And humble, too, it would seem! 🙄🙄

***

They made short work of the bandits 🔥🔥

***

My clever baby! She immediately took charge!

She was born to be a general’s wife and to be a general herself! 

***

Gorgeous place 💚

***

Nooooooo, the ‘bandits’ just rode past all the valuables! They definitely have other intentions!

***

So beautiful 💚

***

Niaoniao’s defence is working so well! But these ‘bandits’ are specifically coming for them. 

***

Ha!

Anyway, I’m expecting LBY to come to the rescue the next episode, so expectations are rising! 

***

Whomst?

LBY can’t come to murder you soon enough!

***

Oh, now you care about Niaoniao?

Didn’t you say you would never again care for this child? As always, go fuck yourself, bitch. 

***

Die, asshole.

***

I hate how this drama is trying to gloss over how vile and abusive she is with, “Oh, but she really does love her, miss her and worry about her!”

Bitch, you abandoned a baby because it was a girl while you raised your sons and then showed up fifteen years later just to belittle and abuse her, physically and emotionally. I hope you choke. 

***

I see this didn’t go well.

***

Yes, baby, indulge yourself in some slaughter!

***

Boy, you have an arrow in your back 😅

***

Hehehe, threaten Niaoniao and prepare to meet your doom!

He will end your entire bloodline for a stray hair on her pretty head! 🤣🤣

***

LMAO, what is an arrow to the back when Niaoniao is out there and in the need of rescuing? 😋

***

Good job, Murder Baby! Right on time!!

***

My heart!! 😭😭

***

LMAO, he’s so smitten 🤣🤣

***

Guess who’s suddenly very grateful he got an arrow through the back 🤣🤣

And also jealous that someone else also got attention 🤣🤣

***

I love how useful, practical and collected she is 🖤

***

Zisheng, this is your opportunity!!

***

LMAOOO, and he took it!! 🤣🤣

***

The arrow removal scene!! 😍

Also, wow, Wu Lei! 😶 I can’t exactly thirst because you’re still, like, twelve years old in my mind, but the effort is appreciated! 

***

OMG, she is using her necklace, FROM AROUND HER OWN NECK, to pull the arrow out!!

It is his every dream come true! He will lose his entire mind!! 😍

***

Have mercy, Niaoniao, he’ll simply die of bliss!

***

They are feeding me so well 🔥🔥

***

LMAO, this opportunist 😂

***

Delicious 😋

***

Who cares, this is the best thing that has ever happened to him 😂😂

***

Hehe, he stole the bloody string!

This episode is serving us such good food! 😋

***

I love her 🖤

She’s so vicious and vengeful! Yes, girl, kill these animals who raped and tortured someone close to you to death. They deserve no mercy. 

***

He’s trying to protect her but I fully believe her that she’d have no nightmares and I love that for her.

***

Aww, the way he is pained that she saw him kill and how he tries to hide the bloody sword from her 🤗😭😋

***

Amazing 😋

***

LMAO 🤣🤣 Third Uncle is so useless and poor Yao nearly took the blame 🤣🤣

***

Aww, he can’t bear to dirty the handkerchief she’d used 🤗

[wherethewordsare]

a. I have accidentally unfollowed you because Tumblr puts buttons too close together.

b. I have A PROMPT. Specifically from your list of 50. 8 and/or 21. I just want something soft from you.

a: I love you <3

b: thank you @softnerdypeter for beta reading this for me <3

21. Blind date set up by friends

Oh, It’s You

Eskel had cornered Geralt in the firehouse kitchen. Again. This time with that look that used to trick Geralt into the worst trouble when they were kids. 

“Don’t automatically say no,” Eskel said with a laugh. 

“No.” Geralt turned to hide his smile. 

“Geralt, she’s really pretty though. And she has this friend that apparently has been moping and she said she’d feel better if he also had a date.” Eskel walked around the table and took Geralt’s plate, holding it away. “Besides, you’ve been moping too and you refuse to ask that musician out even though you know damn well-”

“Fine, I’ll go, but you don’t get to berate me after this. One date. That’s it. Then you leave me be,” he growled, snatching his plate back, sending his cherry tomatoes rolling onto the floor. He only glared at his brother when he laughed. 

“Alright, Wolf. Just bring your most sunny personality to the fair Friday.” Eskel chuckled as he bent down, scooping up the tomatoes and tossing them into the sink. He strolled away, looking all too much like the cat that caught the canary.

“You’re taking my shift on the dunk tank!” Geralt shouted after him with a shake of his head. “Bastard.” 

He hated how fast his phone was in his hand to text Jaskier. 

Es finally trapped me into a blind date. Fucker. 

Within a second, a message that didn’t feel like a response popped up on his screen. 

I have a date on Friday? my friend set it up. I kinda don’t wanna go. 

Geralt tried to ignore the way his gut twisted at the idea of Jaskier going out with someone else. He wasn’t sure what to say back. It wasn’t like he didn’t also have a date that night. His phone buzzed again in his hand, showing an incoming call. 

“She said his name is Gary!” Jaskier whined. There was a clattering in the background and Geralt leaned against the counter. He could close his eyes and see Jaskier making his lunch. “Who names their kid Gary? I bet he’s hideous!” There was a huff. 

“I guess this means we’ll have to cancel movie night?” Geralt hummed as he bit into a fork full of salad, sans tomatoes. “But who knows,” Geralt winced only because he knew Jaskier couldn’t see, “the guy might surprise you?” 

There was a gasp on the other end of the line. “You wanna stand up our dates and just meet up for a movie anyways?” Jaskier laughed but the sound died quickly. “Unless you’re looking forward to the date.” There was something like disappointment in his voice that could have only been chalked up to missing out on the movie and shitty take-out. 

“I would, but Eskel would kill me,” Geralt reasoned with a hum. 

“You’re gonna get a play-by-play of how terrible this guy is,” Jaskier promised with a laugh. There was a bang and a curse. “Ah shit, my frittata! I gotta go.” The line was dead before Geralt could say anything else. 

He tried to ignore the way his chest tightened as he shoved another bite into his mouth. He was almost glad when the firehouse alarm went off. 

Friday came quickly. He rode to the fair with Eskel, who was chatting more than usual, clearly nervous about his date with the nurse he couldn’t seem to get over since the last time he ended up in the ER with a burn. 

Geralt couldn’t blame him, really. Anything that made his brothers happy was fine by him, but he wished that he didn’t have to hear the same story about Eskel finally asking her out again. It was just a constant reminder that he still hadn’t swallowed his pride enough when it came to Jaskier. 

“Where am I supposed to be?” Geralt managed to ask, his arms crossed over his chest as they pulled into the dirt lot. 

“There’s a ticket booth towards the center. I think she told him to meet you there,” Eskel was checking his hair in the mirror again and only stopped when he caught Geralt rolling his eyes. “Listen, we can’t all be as pretty as you,” he shot across the bench.

“Finally, something you’ve said that makes sense,” he snorted. He climbed out of the truck and shut the door on Eskel before he could make a comeback. 

It was still early, so the fairgrounds weren’t crowded just yet. He was thankful for that at least. The place would be packed before too long. He was already coming up with reasons to cut the night short as he leaned against the back of the booth, his phone in hand. He was making an attempt not to text Jaskier. He didn’t want to interrupt his date, even if he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Geralt pulled up their conversation anyways, scrolling through as he realized that he wasn’t even sure where Jaskier was going tonight. 

“Geralt?” There was a pair of dusty converse in front of him. 

He looked up and his heart sank for a moment. Jaskier was standing there, his bright eyes catching the lights from the ferris wheel. Geralt wasn’t looking forward to having to actually watch him on his date. There had been too many nights at too many bars where he watched Jaskier flirt with everyone. Almost everyone.  

“What are you doing here, Jask?” He half flinched as he realized how gruff he had sounded. Geralt looked around, expecting to see someone coming to collect Jaskier but there was no one else there. 

“Oh,” Jaskier whispered softly. A series of emotions flew across his face all at once before he simply beamed at Geralt. “Oh!” He was laughing then, leaning into Geralt’s personal space. “Gary,” he cackled. 

He scowled at Jaskier, but then it also dawned on him and he huffed. “Oh. It’s you,” he hummed, looking around. He wondered remotely if Eskel had done this on purpose. His date was Jaskier. Or it was supposed to be. 

Maybe, he shuffled from foot to foot for a moment, maybe it still could be. 

“Well, I know I’m not nearly as good looking as this Gary was supposed to be,” Geralt mused, “but maybe we could still…” He gestured around them vaguely. 

Jaskier looked up at him again, those same emotions Geralt couldn’t read from before flitting across his face before his eyes softened. He stepped forward, sliding his arm into Geralt’s with a smile. “Far more handsome than anyone I could have imagined, dear heart.” He gave Geralt’s arm a little squeeze. “Buy me a caramel apple and tell me you like my shirt?” Jaskier teased. 

Geralt snorted as he moved them forward. “You mean my shirt you stole?” He didn’t miss the way Jaskier fell in step beside him, their arms still linked. 

“Next time don’t leave your laundry in my dryer,” Jaskier chuckled. Then he was looking down as he pulled them both to a stop for a moment in the middle of the fairway. “Geralt, just so I’m clear-”

“This is a date,” Geralt blurted before he could stop himself. “I… if you want it to be.” Part of him wanted to pull away. He’d done it now and there was no going back. He had known Jaskier for three years and for a moment he thought it crash down around him. Jaskier only smiled back at him, looking relieved. 

“Yeah, yeah I do. But only if-” he started.

“Caramel apple.” Geralt raised an eyebrow, smirking. 

“Date it is then.” Jaskier let himself be led around the fair, always touching Geralt as they went. 

It felt nice, having the weight and warmth beside him as the early autumn air started to set in. 

They found themselves in front of the dunk tank where Eskel was sitting up on the platform, that smirk of his still firmly in place. 

He had known! Geralt huffed and glared at his brother. He was leaning out of the tank slightly to high-five a slender woman with dark hair. She looked over and waved to Jaskier with a smile. 

“Hey, do you want the horse or the alien stuffie?” He asked as he marched up to the booth. He watched with a grin as Eskel’s own smile dropped. “You know what, I’ll win you both.” 

Jaskier only looked at him with confusion then glanced across. “Oh. Were we played?” He sounded smug as he handed Geralt his own tickets. 

Geralt landed not only the first shot, but the next three after, sending Eskel plunging down into the water below. When he handed Jaskier both of the rewards he was passed a caramel apple already missing a bite. 

Three years suddenly seemed to hinge on the moment as he took the apple and leaned forward, past the oversized head of the alien in Jaskier’s arm. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Jaskier’s mouth, slow enough that he could have pulled away. 

Jaskier didn’t pull away. Instead, he turned his face and let their mouths slot together more firmly, smiling all the while. 

“Took you long enough,” he pulled away just enough to murmur before pressing in again. 

“Movie night tomorrow?” Geralt asked when they finally broke apart. He felt like he was vibrating in his boots. 

“It’s a date.” 

It certainly was going to be, Geralt decided. He’d make sure it would be a good one too.

[nochiquinn]

exandria unlimited: kymal: part one: 🐩

crown keepers minus their one brain cell let's goooo

IT IS BEGIN

oh no she cute

"we're at the same table, nerds!" it's going to be CHAOS

"he's been THROUGH IT"

Dwarven Nincompoop

aw, no more comfy matt

chinhands at this opening

cyrus, your dumbshit brother

where errebody go

I had to step away but I come back to gilmore plans

"a little smarter" "ehnnn"

"I said a LITTLE"

FRENS

purple!

aimee ur eyelashes

"chosen family" cries

I Love opal's new art

opal using her vestige to steal

"it's a lot of women yelling"

oh god she literally has a shoulder angel and shoulder devil except she already wasn't listening to the shoulder angel

I WAS JOKING ABOUT USING THE VESTIGE TO STEAL

I fucking love opal

I've had this headcanon of dariax trying to keep opal safe or at least not actively throwing herself into volcanos but I knew that was wishful thinking

"he's got the luck of the idiots"

drags dariax away from the table by the collar

"act natural" oh god

SHE

matt

I love her

oh someone has worked hospitality

"pure brewer's yeast"

"I'm leaving! I'm already done!"

"I like bread." jester?

"I eat it." fcg?

"you got a problem?" "yeah!" "you wanna take this outside?" "no!"

"remember when I said keep a low fuCKING PROFILE"

oh no dorian is the braincell

I Love Her

coin? coin in play? EXPLAIN

oh dislike

erica use the barbie voice USE THE BARBIE VOICE

erica this is extremely specific

"I'm not supposed to be out of my room"

this whole casino is gonna light the FUCK up

"I'm Detecting It"

that's actually extremely cool??

taking out her frustration on pickpockets

cat the rabbit

CABBIT

"did you just nope me"

dariax. DARIAX.

dorian

cackles loudly

glitchy circlet

opAL

"I'm so glad I called you guys"

you are not immune to pretty fire lady

nice save aabria

"it's canon"

oh. oh no.

"a grandma? wearing grandma clothes?"

oh NO

well well well if it isn't the consequences of their own actions

friendly reminder that opal is nineteen, MAYBE twenty years old

ah yes, the Aladdin Gambit

ngl when they said bromance was I was expecting some hitachiin shit

I can't see matt's face but his forehead just went on a journey

oh now he's just dead

her WHAT

Morrighan please explain me your deal

okay which one of them heard "we need one million dollars" and suggested gamblnever mind it was opal

opal

I accept this retcon

why did the subs just say MATT [JENGA]

Traditional Rogue Attire

Functional Feathers

dariax

"you'd never expect a poodle from a bunny"

"you're on thin ice" "why?!" "because it's funny"

it's because you're you, cyrus

no direct victims

......is dariax still being tracked

HEIST DADDY

"hack down the door" this is hilarious bc I've been playing persona 5 strikers

....akechi, yusuke, and futaba playing dungeons and dragons

(akechi, yusuke, futaba, symmetra, and she-ra)

"I don't like that we have a problem" "I like it"

my dariax/dorian/orym headcanon is that dariax sees that dorian is upset at leaving orym behind and blames cyrus

(and he should)

Evil Check

matt: I'm canonically an idiot

where's the art, I need it

they got him a PRESENT

....they stole him a PRESENT

"is this a dead man's mandolin" "no! no - he's not - is he?" "eh."

I love them

oh nO THEY DON'T KNOW

I FORGOT THEY DON'T KNOW

...how did you roll 10 on 2d4

"he's good at what he's good at!!"

"DO YOU KNOW DENI$E?!" ".....we gotta go"

"no we don't! :D"

"I'm gonna pretend your dad is my dad and he told me that" "that would be very sad indeed for both of us"

BEADS OF LOVE

matt missed it and I'm sad

TED 2

I came back to dariax ghosting his ex

"I can do a kill"

MAP

DOOR

sex pestedal

this is the little camera drone from watch_dogs

orym where are you, we need the braincell

this doofus

"my first instinct is to protect dariax" gay

"are you gonna kill us?!" "maybe I will! maybe I wanna go home early tonight!"

if dorian dies I riot

what in the magnus archives

we found the poodle!

exCUSE ME

MAGICAL GIRL BLESS

"it all certainly looks like stone. then you notice....it LOOKS like stone"

CYRUS

this room is getting uncomfortably full

excuse

exCUSE

yeah yeah fuck yeah

I forgot how much I like aabria's spider queen voice

oh no ted 2

MATT

BOOGER METEOR

"are you DONE NOW"

I love him

matt still managing to give erica the hdywttd

he did a baton pass!!

giving mr. tumnus a concussion

what in the eluvian

"wait you found gin?"

STEAL THE SKYBAR

fuck an airship, FLYING BAR

Death Dwarf

"he stole words from our faces!"

"I don't wanna wait a week, can we just come back tomorrow?"

I'm using this precedent for every awful matthew mercer cliffhanger from now on

like coming home from your cool aunt's house "but AABRIA let us come back the next day!"

Don't Do A Murder, Do A Poodle

I'm waiting for a stinger

aw, no stinger :(

[spacedikut]

spooky scary skeletons ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: spencer has the prettiest face you’ve ever painted on. 1626 words

a/n: a poorly edited, poorly written and late halloween thing! inspired by idmakeitbehave (go read everything theyve ever written ever) because they have the BEST meet cutes and every time i think of them i :-)

masterlist

The haunted mansion of the fair, overflowing with screams, the sound of chainsaws and the evil cackle your friend has been rehearsing in the mirror all month, stands tall behind you like the looming presence it is. It’s brought great entertainment for you, watching and hearing the reactions of those that dare enter.

You’re set up not far from the exit of the house with your array of face paint around you, paintbrush in hand. Most of your customers are children – this year’s most popular request is pumpkin, last year was skeleton – and as much as you love spookiness and gore and everything in between, the rush of pride you feel when a little girl gasps and thanks you with the sweetest voice when you show her your finished work is unmatched.

You’re not the least surprised that your clientele is mainly children. There’s the odd parent here and there that is persuaded to get a black cat on their cheek, or some fake blood coming from their eyes and mouths, but they never venture beyond the small request.

Until him.

He’s marched up to you by his friend who, wearing a dress covered in fake spiders and cobwebs, pushes him by the shoulders right up to the foldable chair that’s placed opposite you. You’re drying off a wet paintbrush, glancing up when you hear the crunch of leaves beneath their feet.

“My friend would like his face painted.” She tells you.

“Of course,” You gesture for him to take the seat in front of you, the compliment slipping out after giving them both a once-over. “I like your outfits.”

“Oh!” The girl grins. “Thank you. I’ve been waiting all year to wear it. And he,” She points to the still-silent customer who hasn’t taken his eyes off you once, “Is more obsessed with Halloween than anyone I know.”

Looking at the bright orange pumpkin-covered sweater he’s wearing, you’re overcome by the urge to touch it – and his hair, with the way it’s all squiggles and curls and seems so soft. “What can I do for you?”

The first time he speaks, it’s after he takes a deep breath and rubs his palms on his trousers. “A skeleton, please.”

You’re already arranging the colours you’ll need, missing how the girl slips away, too busy asking the usual questions, “How big?”

“My entire face.”

That’s a new one. For an adult, at least. Usually all they want is an easy to clean, easy to hide image on their cheek.

It’s only then you really take in his appearance. In the dark, dusty light of the fair, he looks like a real life Tim Burton character – shallow eyes, sharp cheekbones, a general gauntness that you’ve only seen in fiction. He’s the perfect skeleton, if that isn’t weird to think.

“All over?” Your hand moves to gesture over your face, as if miming to him what all over really means.

“Yeah,” He nods, “I’m not that good of an artist, and my mask makes it kind of hard to see. So a skeleton is spooky enough but not a lot of work, right?”

“Right.” You smile at him. “Right, okay, let’s do it.”

The second the cold bristles dip into the paint before you, you’re absorbed in ensuring you do a good job. You’re used to working on children, so you naturally take hold of his chin to move his face this way and that way to apply a firm coat and get your lines right.

“I’m Spencer, by the way,” He mumbles.

You huff a laugh. He feels your breath on his lips. “Hi, Spencer, I’m Y/N.”

The customer – Spencer – wiggles his lips in a way that tells you he’s holding back a smile. You’re not sure what it is about him, but you like him. You like how still he sits, patiently letting you do your work, you like how much he seems to like Halloween (you refer to the sweater and the fact he’s about to cover his entire face in paint to look like a skeleton), and you like how his eyes on you make you feel. Because it doesn’t feel gross, or weird, like it normally does; it’s like his gaze is complimenting you silently, the intensity of it making you bite the inside of your cheek.

Small-talk comes naturally after hours of doing this job. “You mentioned a mask? What was it a mask of?”

“Michael Myers.”

“Oh,” You shiver, “I hate that guy.”

“The iconic mask is actually a William Shatner mask that’s painted white and changed to blur the resemblance to Shatner. Specifically, it’s a Captain Kirk death mask created for Star Trek.” Spencer tells you, giving a tight lipped smile when you pause for a second to take in the information.

“How does William Shatner feel about that?”

“Not great, probably. But, can you imagine being considered one of the stars of the Halloween franchise?” He’s giddy, almost wiggling in excitement. “I’d love to see people wearing my face every Halloween.”

You laugh at that.

A few more facts are spewed out while you mix black with a little bit of white to make grey, some you already know and some you don’t, but he’s still chattering on when you turn back to face him, ready to paint again.

The words die in his throat, however, when your hand finds home on the back of his neck, thumb hooking around to lift his jaw up. “Still, please.”

Even if he wanted to give an unnecessary apology, he wouldn’t be able to, as if his throat is full of sand.

It’s silent for a while, Spencer’s eyes trained on the twinkling night sky that sits calmly compared to the thundering of his heart, the scramble of thoughts in his head. When your hand moves away a few minutes later, his disappointed eyes fall back to your face, where he finds himself thinking, please do that again.

“Do you want the black on your eyelids, too, or just around your eye?” You ask over your shoulder, oblivious to the new slump in Spencer’s back.

“Eyelids, too, please.”

You smile to yourself at how polite he is. Spencer might be the sweetest person you’ve ever met and you’ve known him for twenty minutes.

By the time you’re done, you’ve decided Spencer is the best customer you’ve ever had and you’d give anything to replay this interaction again and again. He’s polite, listens when you ask him to turn a certain way or sit up (a surprising amount of adults simply do not listen), and brings the most interesting conversation.

Did you know the use of OMG can be traced back to 1917? Cause Spencer does, and he bestowed you with the same knowledge.

You’re impressed with yourself and Spencer’s brain when you finally lean back, checking for any spots you missed or parts you can fix.

Before you even reach for the mirror, Spencer’s interrupting you.

“Um… do I-do I look spooky?”

You face him, a pretty smirk on your lips, “Terrifying.”

When you hold the mirror up to his face, he barely spares himself glance (but it’s enough of a glance for him to think holy crap, you’re talented) and there’s a look in his eye – he’s hesitant. About what, you’re not sure.

You wonder if he can tell you don’t want him to go. You enjoy his company, you enjoy him, and you’ve never wanted to wipe your work off someone’s face so quickly just for an excuse to do it again until now.

“How much do I owe you?” He asks, reaching for his wallet but not leaving the chair.

Your eyes narrow for a split second as you weight your option. Then you think fuck it, and say, “Nothing. It’s on the house.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“You can, and you will.” You stand. “Consider it thanks for all the cool facts you gave me.”

He lights up when you say cool facts, and opens his mouth to again offer to pay when he’s cut off by a group of laughing teenagers flying out of the haunted house, the exit door slamming against the wood with a startling bang.

Spencer gets an idea.

Seeing you look at the house, he asks, “Have you been in yet?”

You shake your head. “No. Not yet. If I have time later, maybe-“

“Come in with me.”

His grip on his wallet is tight, channelling all worry into his fingers so he doesn’t stumble or say something stupid.

“It’s the least I can do, and it’ll be too scary on my own.”

He’s lying – the idea of going through a haunted house by himself sounds exhilarating, but he’s found an opportunity to not leave you just yet and he’s going to take it.

You consider him for a moment. It’s late, you’ve been painting faces all day, and the sweetest, most attractive person you’ve ever seen is asking you to join them in a haunted house on Halloween. What kind of person would say no?

“Okay,” You happily concede, “But don’t blame me if I end up clinging to you.”

The two of you join the line into the house, giggling when someone dramatically falls through the exit and gasps for air like he’s barely made it out alive. And when the next people to leave the house are a couple who hold eachother close and tight, hands intertwined and one with their head buried in the neck of the other, Spencer steps a little closer to you, hoping you get the memo that having you cling to him doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @roses-and-grasses @fandommonium3267 @ta-ka-shi-ma @ogmilkis @chiffonchronicles @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @jasongideonapologist @gublertoon @bitchyreids

[verfound]

Here in this diary! (I think I know but I wanna seeee)

...I was honestly gonna save these for the next two WIPWednesdays, but then someone said @lukanettejune had Villain!Luka as today's prompt (6/4), and it just seemed like it'd be fun to share this today?

Because I've been sitting on Villain!Butterfly!Luka for a while now without having a lot of time to work on it, and I'm pretty sure the only ones I've discussed it with are the OG LBSC crew. And y'all will never believe when I say our Fluffy Meet Cute Queen is the one who gave me the prompt. 😁

The prompt started with Marinette recording Guardian/Ladybug-specific things in her diary, in case anything ever happened to her (because superheroes typically don't have a long life expectancy lbr), to explain - or to lead the next Guardian. I can't remember if Luka specifically getting the diary/Marinette giving it to him was the original idea (it's LBSC it probably was), but it...ran away with me. And Shadowman was born.

The summary: Under normal circumstances, Luka would never read someone’s diary. But Marinette’s been missing since Ladybug’s death, and he’s desperate. Every page gives him new insight into the girl he was realizing he never really knew. Every page reveals just how much Paris had failed its beloved heroine – how much he had failed her. Now Luka Couffaine is out for revenge, and the only person who could stop him is gone.

So here's what I've got.

We open on the death of Ladybug. It's the final showdown with Hawkmoth, and Viperion is the only 'temporary' hero there because LB thought they'd need Second Chance (and he's the only one she really trusts anymore). Viperion and Chat Noir are standing over LB's body, and Hawkmoth is cackling behind them, Mayura crumpled at his feet. He tells them he might not have won, but they haven't either - "Your hero is dead! Your precious Ladybug is DEAD!"

And Viperion walks over and just clocks him. He takes Hawkmoth and Mayura's Miraculous, but when he turns around Chat and Ladybug are gone. This leads him to believe Chat has LB's body/her Miraculous - but he's...confused. Did this mean they won? He hears the sirens approaching and waits for the police. Before they take hi away, Gabriel asks him: "Have you actually won anything? Is Paris truly safe?"

Two weeks pass. It's a mixed bag: Hawkmoth is defeated, but Chair Noir hasn't been seen or heard of since the defeat, and Ladybug is dead. Paris is safe but in mourning. Luka is guilt-ridden over Ladybug's death, convinced he could have prevented it and his failure to fix it makes him an unworthy Snake. He renounces Sass, and he's been keeping the Snake, Butterfly, and Peacock in a safe place.

In this 'verse, Luka doesn't know or suspect that Marinette is Ladybug. Immediately after the battle, Luka called Marinette. He needed to talk to her, to see her - but she never answered. He tried to go over the next morning, but Sabine calls him and lets him know Marinette wasn't in her bed that morning. They didn't hear her leave, but she's not answering her phone and they can't find her - has he seen her? So for two weeks he has been at the bakery almost constantly, tirelessly helping Tom and Sabine search for Marinette. No one can find her. No one's heard from her. And he's starting to go a little nuts.

(Note that this takes place during summer - HM was defeated right before break. Dingo's back in Australia for the summer, which is important for Reasons. Luka's not in school, stopped going to work, and is using pretty much all his time to help look for Marinette.)

So it's been two weeks. No akumas because no Hawkmoth, a dead Bug, and a missing Marinette. Luka's at the bakery, shambling around Marinette's room. Tom and Sabine are downstairs, waiting on a call from Roger who may have found a lead. And Luka's just poking around, spiraling, when he notices...the box with Marinette's diary is open. It wasn't open before. And there, on top of her diary, are two letters: one addressed to him and one addressed to Chat Noir.

So he reads his. It's a goodbye/Just In Case letter. She explains how she was hoping he wouldn't find it/she wouldn't need it. She'd set a magical lock on the box, so that if something happened and she didn't come back...and she's sorry. She's so sorry, because she never wanted to drag Luka back into this, but she needed him. She tells him her diary will explain everything: she wrote everything down, and she always thought it was because she just loved to journal, but she realized it was because she never had any proper training. The next Ladybug/Guardian deserves better. If she doesn't make it, the next LB/Guardian has to be prepared. Better than she was.

And Luka can't move. Can't breathe, can't think. Because the letter had been addressed to him, and he wasn't going to read it, but he had hoped maybe there was a clue, except the clue was...Marinette is Ladybug.

Ladybug is dead.

...Marinette is dead.

And it's all his fault.

And he reads her diary, convinced he had to have misunderstood...but it's all there. Everything. Becoming Ladybug, her spiraling feelings for Adrien, Chat being so pushy with his affections, her troubles with Lila and the class, the expulsion, Alya constantly pushing/pressuring her with Adrien, becoming Guardian, feeling like she had to bear everything because Chat was so lackadaisical/reckless/self-sacrificing, her growing feelings for Luka...and Luka realizes it's true. She was Ladybug, and she was going through so much more than she ever let on. And he realizes that all of them - even him - only made it worse. And they're not going to find Marinette, because Ladybug is dead, and they never found Ladybug's body, and...he just goes numb.

He walks out of her room. Out of the bakery. He doesn't answer Tom or Sabine when they ask if he's ok. He just...walks. And he doesn't fully realize any of this/where he was going/doing until he wakes up the next morning in his bed with tears still drying on his face. And Juleka's there, and she's like "bro wtf?" because he's freaking her the hell out, and he just says: "...she's gone."

And for the first time ever, Luka looks at Juleka and is...angry. Furious. And he can't talk to her. He realizes he blames her. He blames himself. He blames everyone: her 'friends', her classmates, her family, Paris...if they had all tried harder, been better, then she wouldn't be...if they hadn't left her all alone...

And Luka just Shuts Down. Everyone's worried about him, but he won't talk about it. He's closing himself off to everyone - even Juleka and Anarka. Sabine calls Anarka, because Luka went from being at the bakery every day helping the search to nothing, but Anarka has no idea?

Luka keeps rereading the diary. He's stuck in this loop of "I should have known," "we should have helped her," "this is our fault..."

And another week or so passes. There's still no sign of Marinette, except now Luka knows why - knows that she's never coming back. And he finally goes back to the bakery to tell Tom and Sabine what he knows, because it's cruel to put them through this any longer. He has the diary, her letter, and the three Miraculous stones with him. And they're all sitting in the kitchen, and he's trying to talk and failing to find the words.

The news is playing in the background: Nadja is doing a special on the rise and fall of Paris's beloved heroine. She comments how Chat Noir hasn't been seen since the "battle that freed Paris from Hawkmoth's reign of terror" and speculates that it's because he's mourning his lover. And Luka just...snaps. Shouts "That lying bitch!" at the television. Sabine asks if he's ok, but he's not - Ladybug is gone. Marinette is gone. And nobody cares. Nobody realized they caused it. And they need to be held accountable - they need to pay.

Tom and Sabine knew about Silencer, of course, but they've never seen calm, sweet Luka so angry before - and it terrifies them. And Tom tries to tell Luka that it's ok - Marinette's not gone, not like Ladybug is. They're going to find her. They can't give up hope. And Luka realizes her own parents didn't even know. They didn't notice. They did nothing to see or stop how she was hurting. And as much as he loves them, he realizes they must pay, too - and he's the only one who can make them. He has her diary. He has the Butterfly. He can make them all realize how alone they left her. He can make them all feel as hopeless as they made her feel - as he feels now.

And he tells Tom he's wrong: Marinette is dead. Marinette was Ladybug, and she's dead, and she's never coming home, and it's all their fault - even his. But they don't believe him, and he leaves without showing them the diary. He just feels...defeated.

Back at the Liberty, he comes home to find Juleka and Rose watching the same report. And he retreats to somewhere deep in the Liberty, somewhere private, where he can don the Butterfly. He starts flipping through the diary, and he finds a passage where Marinette was venting about Nadja: her journalistic integrity ("No wonder Alya thinks its' ok when THAT'S Paris's example!"), the Prime Queen interview when she was more interested in pushing LadyNoir than discussing Hawkmoth, about how she's ALWAYS been like that, how many times she's called her last-minute to watch Manon to chase a story...and it's important to note that none of these things are inherently bad, or that Marinette is saying Nadja's awful for them. She's venting in her diary, like you do. But Luka's in such a dark place by this point that it only makes things worse.

He tears the page out and keeps reading and rereading it. Keeps thinking how Nadja must pay. HE summons Nooroo, and before Nooroo can speak Luka tells him everything that happened. Hawkmoth's gone, but so is LB. That Paris let their Guardian fall. Nooroo is devastated because that means Tikki's gone, too, and what about the Miracle Box? Luka assures him he'll take care of the Box, but Paris has to answer for what they did. Nooroo agrees to help, gives Luka a basic rundown of the Butterfly's powers, and Luka transforms - except Nooroo didn't explain everything, and Luka didn't have Marinette's training, so he doesn't realize Nooroo doesn't need negative emotions. He thinks you have to upset someone to create an akuma.

So he takes the diary page to the TVi studios and confronts Nadja on air. He introduces himself as Shadowman. (For a hot second he considers introducing himself as 'Shadowmoth' - which I would like to point out this story was started before that name was dropped so fuck you Gabriel - but it's too close to 'Hawkmoth', and Hawkmoth was the one who killed Marinette. He refuses to be associated with him/take his name.) He tells Nadja and the world that Ladybug was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. That Marinette is dead because Ladybug is dead. And that Paris caused it.

He accuses Nadja of sensationalizing Ladybug and the akumas/battles. He reads the diary page on air. Nadja doesn't believe him at first, but then he gives her the page and she recognizes Marinette's handwriting. Realizes he's right. She's overcome by guilt/grief, and Shadowman creates an akuma. It goes into the diary page, and Prime Queen is reborn as Telecaster.

And this was all live. All of Paris is watching the broadcast, and they know they aren't safe.

Cut to where Adrien's been hiding. He sees the whole thing, and he can't believe it - until he hears the people in the studio screaming. He realizes he has to do something, because Paris isn't safe anymore, and this time there's no Ladybug to fix his mistakes.

Back at TVi, Telecaster is attacking everyone. As Nadja she was determined to tell the news, even to the point of amping up stories for ratings - but that was kinda forced by her producer? So she's going after the bigwigs at the studio for forcing her to be so ratings-focused/sensationalistic. And she's just destroying the studio, which is...fine. Paris has other media outlets...right? It's just chaos.

Chat Noir finally shows his face and demands to know what Shadowman thinks he's doing/who he is. Part of Shadowman's disguise is literal darkness, so he lets the shadows recede and lets Chat actually see him. And Chat realizes it's Viperion/Luka - and he pleads with him to stop. That LB/Marinette wouldn't want this - that she loved this city and knowing he was attacking it would kill her.

And it's just...the wrong thing to say. Shadowman says the city was what killed her, and they have to answer for it. That Chat has to answer for it. But Chat doesn't understand - he was LB's partner? Her friend? He was at the final battle with her - how is her death his fault?

But Shadowman tells him it's not his time yet. He is coming for him - he will get his Miraculous back for the Box - but not yet. He will get LB's Miraculous back (note that he's operating under the belief that Chat has LB's body/Miraculous, so he honestly believes CHat will just use them to purify the akuma and fix the damage - except Chat doesn't and can't). But Paris must suffer first, just like Marinette suffered. He disappears before Chat can go after him - and then Telecaster is attacking and he has to focus on her.

And Chat does defeat Telecaster, but there's no LB. No one to purify the akuma or fix the damage. He doesn't actually have her Miraculous, so what now? (This leads to Chat having a growing collection of butterfly jars with akumas and no idea how to fix it. Paris needs LB - he needs LB.)

After leaving Chat to deal with Telecaster, Shadowman goes back to the bakery to retrieve the Miracle Box. Marinette's skylight was always open (he always assumed it was because it's the roof no one can enter through there - except now he realizes it was easy access for Ladybug). Tom and Sabine hear noise from her room and burst in with umbrellas/paddles/whatever but freeze when they see Shadowman standing there with the Box. They try and stop him: they saw the report, they know who he is, they realize who Marinette was, and believe it's now their duty to protect the Box, since Marinette can't. And Shadowman is livid, because "You couldn't even protect her. You never even noticed...your home is supposed to be safe. Your parents are supposed to keep you safe. When did you ever do that?"

He akumatizees Tom and Sabine before he leaves: the dual-akuma Safe Harbor. There's no diary page left with them because Marinette never actually spoke out against her parents in the diary: it's just Luka's frustration with them. He leaves them there and goes back to the Liberty to retieve Sass, Duusu, and the diary.

Back at TVi, Chat realizes that if LB was Marinette and LB was the Guardian then Marinette would have the Miracle Box. He takes his coffee mug with the akuma and books it back to the bakery, except her skylight door is now locked? The balcony was always open to him, but is now locked? So he has to go in through the side/home door as Adrien.

Tom greets him. Is being very jittery/Concerned Parent and acting Weird - and so is Sabine. They're both worrying over him, apologizing about Gabriel, asking if he's ok - and he can't get a word in edgewise. Finally yells at them to stop - he needs to see Marinette's room. He needs to get the Miracle Box. And they just...freeze. They don't react at first. He tells them he knows they saw the news - everyone did - so they have to know that Marinette was LB. And LB had the Miracle Box/all the Miraculous gems, and he has to get them back. But they try and laugh it off (again, it's all very stilted), and he finally just transforms. Says he was LB's partner, and with her gone it's on him to protect the Box now. Except when he looks back at them the butterfly mask is over their eyes and he realizes they're akumatized, too - and he just gave his identity away to Shadowman.

Safe Harbor is like a Stepford version of Tom and Sabine. They're turning the bakery into a fortress because they couldn't keep Marinette safe, so now they're making it the ultimate safe haven. And even though Shadowman realizes Adrien's identity, Safe Harbor doesn't fully? They just see it as Adrien fighting back/resisting their protection - so they deem him a threat and start attacking him. (Again, no diary page here: the akumatized object is a family photo of Tom, Sabine, and Marinette.)

After the fight, Chat goes to trap the akuma in the coffee cup with the other one - only to realize the cup is empty. He remembers akumas can phase through objects, and he has no feasible way of trapping the akumas. But...Cataclysm destroyed Uncanny Valley. Could it maybe destroy akumas, too? Before he can try it, the akuma is released and a white butterfly flutters away.

Across the street, Shadowan is lurking and watching him. He doesn't understand why Chat didn't use Ladybug's powers to purify the akuma. Why isn't Chat fixing any of this? Does he want to watch the city burn? He thinks Chat's just being stubborn. Well, he can be stubborn, too. He has to up his game next time. He releases the akuma because, deep down, Shadowman is still Luka. He still cares about the city and the people he's going after. Maybe a little sliver of conscience not letting him go all-out yet?

So Luka returns to the Liberty long enough to retrieve Sass, Duusu, and the diary before he realizes he has to leave. Adrien is Chat, and Adrien was the one who chose him as Viperion, so Chat knows who he is/where to find him, too. Juleka catches him before he leaves, and says, "...I was afraid it was you. On the TV. Luka, you have to stop this." "None of you stopped. I don't see why I should, either."

Luka goes into hiding. He remembers reading about Master Fu's old shop in the diary. Master Fu had left it to Marinette as a safe house, but as far as he knows Chat doesn't go there anymore (no reason to) and doesn't realize he knows about it. (Eventually, later on, Chat does go there and catches Luka - so Luka ends up hiding out at Dingo's home, bc the Kings are in Australia for the summer/it's empty.)

Aaaand that's all I have of the outline so far. 😂 The idea is Luka creates a hit list using the diary: Nadja, Tom and Sabine, Mayor Bourgeois, Alya, The Girl Squad (yes even Juleka and Rose), Lila, Chloé, Marinette's class in general, Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, Master Fu, Chat Noir/Adrien, and finally Luka himself. He confronts each person with a page torn from the diary, and he uses Marinette's own words to convince them of their guilt. With the exception of Tom and Sabine, the akuma is always in the diary page. Chatdrien is Luka's 'last' target, because as Ladybug's partner he blames him most - except the real 'last target' is actually Luka.

He plans his final akuma almost like a suicide mission, hoping that Chat will Cataclysm him/take him out when Shadowman kills him, so they're both defeated simultaneously. Except...

Things don't go as planned. Because Ladybug wasn't dead. The Guardians were able to heal her. And she was never supposed to see Luka this way.

[andilovetowrite]

Party Favors P.P

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: When trying to convince Peter to go to a party with you, a few secrets are revealed about a certain web-slinger’s crush, with your dad hanging onto every word. Total fluff here, guys!

Using the prompt: “come on, I can’t go to the party alone!”

Warnings: Nothing terrible, a swear word or two, I think. Just a lot of Flustered!Peter….. Oh, and Liz Allen being a prominent wing woman. Some suggestiveness as well. Sprinkles of angst but ends in fluff

Posted: April 30, 2021

Word Count: 3.2k

Here is my Masterlist in case you wanna read some more work of mine. Also, my requests are open :)

“Pleaseee”, you pleaded, begging your best friend, “pretty please?” Peter Parker, the neighbour hood’s protector, Spiderman, an Avenger and your best friend stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed while he indignantly shook his head.

“Nope. Now way Y/N”

“C’mon, Pete. Just one time? Please, please, please?”

Peter sighed, raising his chocolate brown eyes to meet your Y/E/C eyes. “Is it necessary? Like life and death?”

“Yes! It is! Well, it saves lives and prevents death. And I need your help with this.”

Peter pursed his lips, looking a whole lot like a family member of yours you recently spoke to. “What’s in it for me?”

“Well, for starters, payback… Like the time I had to tell the press that ‘intern’ Peter Parker was doing a brilliant job working for my dad.”

“Yeah, I guess. But could you blame me? Y/N Stark saying to the world that I do a great job working as an intern was a sure way to make Flash shut up.”

“Ah, I get it. You’re just using me for my name!” you said, clasping a hand to your chest, faking hurt. Pretending to wipe off a tear, you whispered sorrowfully, “Another one bites the dust…”

“Uh-huh. And we are sure the amazing Y/N Stark didn’t have fun winding up Flash the next day at school when you strolled in and gave me an Intern Of The Month award in front of him?”

You laughed, remembering the moment fondly. “That was one of your better plans…”

Then you snapped out of your memories, smiling slightly. “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to make me reminisce about cute stories and get out of this deal. It’s happening.”, you said, gesturing to the two of you.

Peter groaned, falling back on your chair. “Dang it. I thought that would distract you for a while. But seriously? Do you want me to get killed?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, walking over to him. “Nobody is going to kill you! The party is at Liz’s house, and you’re Spiderman! Nobody can kill you.” For some reason, Peter face flushed pink when you mentioned Liz’s name.

But then he retorted. “Well, I’m not worried about our classmates. Or my enemies. I’m worried about… Mr Stark.” Peter said this almost worriedly, looking around, eyes locking onto his suit, which he grabbed, throwing it up into his attic.

Doubling over in laughter at his expression, you shakily walked over to your bed, jumping on it. “Why- why would you be afraid of my dad?!”

“Well, he specifically said you aren’t allowed to go to parties, but you want me to go with you to one of the biggest parties of the year.”

“Okay, well… that’s the reason you are coming with me. My dad said, and I quote. If one, just one, smart person attends that party, then you are allowed to go. And that’s where you come in. You are the ‘smart person!”

Peter chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, obviously relieved. “Uh, I don’t think that’s what he meant.”

“Oh, I know. But we are Starks. We never mean what we say.”, you say, backhandedly. “So, are you in?”

“Y/N, you know I love you, but…”

“Peter. I’m so sorry I have to do this, but… I’m going to have to use the best friend card.”

Peter gasped, looking at you in shock. “No, you didn’t.”

“Well, come on, I can’t go to the party alone!” you exclaim, jumping on the bed.

“Why can’t you go alone?”

“Why don’t you like parties?” you shoot back, turning to look at him, admiring the small clusters of freckles that adorn his face.

“I-I like parties. Just not Liz Allen’s parties.”

“Oh really?” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows, “that’s not what I heard when you and Ned went to her party in Freshmen year.”

“That… was different.”

Smiling victoriously, you let out a giggle. “Sure it wassss” He turned bright red again, turning away from you. You felt a pang in your heart, wondering why he was acting strange. “Wait, Peter, do you still like her?” You asked this, feeling your stomach sink down.

He flipped around so quickly; you. were sure he could’ve broken something. “No, NO, not at all.”

You squinted, trying to figure out what was wrong, but gave it up, vowing to figure it out later. “Alright, so will you come with me to the party?”

Peter looked at me, breaking into a grin. “Of course, I shall accompany you to the party, m’lady.”

“Well, thank you so much, my good man.”, you said in a horrible British accent. He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling as he glowed in the evening light. And as the two of you laughed, falling back into the bed, you wondered if you should tell Peter that you liked him.

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

Soon, the day of the party arrived, and you honestly couldn’t wait for it. You bought a short dark blue dress, pairing it with some golden accessories and a pair of sneakers. Slipping them on, you headed into the driveway, making sure no one was around before activating your suit, flying off the ground and to Peter’s house. As you arrived, you knocked on the door, shifting from side to side, worried if you had worn too much for a casual party, but you were pleasantly surprised to see Peter dressed up nicely, dark blue jeans and a white shirt, a comfy sweater hanging off his shoulders.

“Woah,” Peter said, looking at you with adoration in his eyes, “you look amazing Y/N!”

You blushed, looking down. “Thanks, Pete, you look great as well.” Peter became red at your comment, not saying anything but holding his arm out to you instead. Looping your elbow through his, you went down to the car where May was going to take you to Liz’s house.

Arriving there, the music was blaring loud, the clinks of glass bottles in the air, while about 50 students and friends stood around the vast house, chatting and drinking.

“Hey guys!” Liz greeted, smiling warmly at us. “Come on in. We have drinks and snacks at the pool, DJ in the living room and a game of truth or dare upstairs.”

“Let’s do truth or dare”, you said, looking at Peter to see if it was alright. He nodded, letting Liz lead the way. Walking upstairs, we came into a guest bedroom, where about ten,eople were sitting in a circle, looking totally wasted.

“Is there alcohol?”, you asked, worried.

Liz laughed. “No no, they just all gotta act drunk. Gave them the dare.”

“Ah alright.” Peter said, glancing at me. Going over, you sat down, seated between Flash and Peter.

“Heyy Penis Parker. Hey there Stark.” He said, spitting out Peter’s fun nickname, but said yours flirtatiously. Almost glaring at him, you muttered back.

“Hello, Flash. What horrible thing are you doing on this evening?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just wondering why you walked in with Penis Parker here and not someone who can actually handle you. And your wealth and fame.”

Scoffing, you turn towards Peter, whose face is almost red with fury. You could see him clenching his fists, which he rarely does. You knew he was minutes away from punching Flash, but you didn’t want to make a whole scene, so you did something you never would have thought to do.

You grabbed Peter’s hand and kissed the back of it, leaning into him. You felt him tense behind you, breathing heavily. “Well Flash, who else would I come with if not the guy I have a crush on? Only seems fair rather than someone who makes a fool out of your best friend.”

Flash’s eyes went wide, looking between Peter and you, but then he cackled. Yeah, you said cackled. It’s what it sounds like. He doubled over, hitting his knee. “No way. I love this. Y/N Stark making Peter Parker, an intern of her multi-billion dollar father, and pretending to date him! There is no way in hell Penis Parker could get someone like you.” Flash said this maliciously, glaring at Peter.

You felt Peter lose his crip on you, taking in a sharp intake of air. “He’s right”, Peter whispered softly into your ear, his voice shaky and choked.

“Peter no!”, but it was too late. He stood up, walking out of the room at lightning speed. You glared at Flash but didn’t wait around, instead of running to find Peter. You ran to the stairs, where you saw him ask MJ where Liz was. Confused why he might want to talk to Liz, you walked down the stairs, staying out of his sights for the moment. You followed him as he walked into Liz’s room, leaving the door ajar. Tiptoeing to stand outside the room, you leaned against the wall, trying to make out what Peter was saying to Liz.

Peter’s POV

I ran down the stairs, quickly asking MJ where Liz was. I could hear someone’s heartbeat loud and clear, but I just assumed that it was my own. Ugh, I hate Flash. But it’s not like he was wrong. Y/N wouldn’t ever like me. She was just being a good friend by sticking up for me to a guy I should’ve beaten up long ago. I could feel my teeth grit together as I walked to Liz’s bedroom, knocking.

“Hey Peter, what’s wrong?”

I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. Explaining to her what happened, she sat me down on the bed, rubbing my back. I could see the fury in her eyes when I told her about Flash.

“I have half a mind to go out and kick him out of my house.”

“It’s fine. But how do I tell her?”

Liz thought for a moment, and then lowered her voice down a bit, quickly glancing over to the door. Scruching my eyebrows, I wondered why she was now whispering but went along with it.

“Why don’t you pretend I’m Y/N. Tell her how you feel. Trust me, she will say yes.”

“Uh okay”, I said, not having too much of a problem, since I had this infront of the mirror dozens of times. “Hey-y. I just wanted to tell you something. I really really like you!”

“Louder”, Liz said, looking at me then at the door.

“Um, I really like you. Well, not just like. I literally love you. I love the way that you are sweet and charming, but also hard and firm. You look like a goddess, whether you are working out or going out in the city. Whenever you come over next to me, my senses go crazy because I am just so in love with you. I know you probably don’t think of me this way, but I had to get it off my chest.”

I finished rambling, when I saw Liz’s wide eyes. “Why? Was that too much?” I was worried, standing up quick.

Liz saw my expression, shaking her head hard. “No no, you’re good. But you gotta come with me right now. I-um know a way to get you and Y/N to like each other by the end of today”

Grabbing my hand, she pulled me up, pulling me quickly through the crowd, into a small closet at the end of the hall. “Okay, wait here”, she said, running off. I stood there, bouncing from side to side, wondering what Liz was doing. But I got my answer quite quickly when she ran back, basically pulling Y/N. “Come here!”, she said, pushing her to me.

“Okay, guys. I hope you two don’t hate me but this has to be done”, was all Liz said before she threw open the door behind us, pushing us both in with shocking strength and closing us in darkness. I reached to open the door but found it locked.

Y/N’s POV

Peter looked at the door, then glanced back at me. “It’s locked”, he said simply, scratching his neck, something he did when he was nervous.

“No shit sherlock. But did you forget, you are Spiderman? Just break it.”

He shook his head, mumbling something about not wanting to break Liz’s stuff. You rolled your eyes, sighing. You rummaged through your pocket, finding a small hairpin. Pushing him aside, you jammed it in, nudging it around until you heard a little click.

“There, it’s now open”, you said sarcastically, leaning back.

“Woah, I’ve never seen you do that!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t usually break open locks, do I?”

Peter picked up on your attitude, leaning back as well, sitting on the floor, making me look at him expectantly.

“Why don’t you just go back to your girlfriend?” you said bitterly, turning away from Peter. He scrunched his eyebrows, confused.

“What girlfriend?” he asked, trying to make space in the small closet.

“Liz. I heard you telling her how much you loved her earlier. An entire freaking speech if I remember correctly.”

He looked confused until his eyes lit up in recognition. “Wait-you thought, what- me and Liz, huh?”

“Yeah, aren’t you and Liz together? Or did she turn you down?”

Peter chuckled, eyes softening as he looked at me. “I don’t love Liz. I don’t even like her. What you heard earlier was Liz helping me out. Practising if you might.”

“Who was Liz pretending to be?”, you asked, disappointed.

“Well, she is smart, kind, badass and absolutely ethereal. She has such a strong spirit and is great at bringing people up. I have loved her for three years. Which, ironically, is how much time we have been best friends. By the way, her dad’s also Tony Stark”, Peter says this, coming closer to you, one hand coming up to hold your cheek gingerly. Searching in your eyes for confirmation, he leaned closer slowly, giving you enough time if you wanted to move away, but you didn’t, instead of moving up the last few inches and making your lips collide with his.

Time stopped as you pressed your lips together, hand finding its way to his curls, roughly holding on to them, while Peter held your waist, not wanting to let you go. You could’ve kissed Peter forever, but the need for oxygen became too much.

Pulling away from Peter, you rested your forehead on his, smiling contently. “I love you”, Peter whispered, cupping your face lightly, holding you at arm’s length.

Giving a small laugh at his nervousness, you kissed him softly, feeling him relax against you. “I love you too, Peter Parker.”

Peter grinned back at me with his signature smile, but the moment ended when we heard a loud bang from outside. “What the hell?” you exclaimed, running to the door; Peter following your footsteps. You could see Peter from the corner of your eye pull his shirt back slightly, revealing a pair of web-shooters he had underneath. Pushing a hand inside your pocket, you could feel the silver ring you carried with you. Slipping it on, you held your thumb over it, waiting for the moment to activate your suit. But when you and Peter burst outside, hands up to fight, you saw your dad, pacing the area, right now talking to a very scared looking Flash.

“Where is my daughter? You have one minute until I blast you off the face of this planet. And trust me when I say it, because bitch please, I’ve been to space.”

Covering your mouth with your hand to stifle your laughter, you walked closer, coming up behind your dad. “I think I might know where your daughter is”, you say in a solemn voice.

Tony whirled around quickly, looking you up and down. Pulling me into a hug for a second, he let go as soon as he did, holding you at arm’s length. “Why the heck are you at this party?!” he asked firmly.

“Well, dear father, you did say that at least one smart person had to be at this party, and that’s why,” you moved out of your dad’s grip, pushing Peter forward, “he is here.”

Peter came forward awkwardly, waving at Tony. “Hey, Mr Stark. How are you and Ms Potts?”

Tony nodded at Peter, clasping his hand on his shoulder. “We’re fine, Underoos. How are you and my daughter? You didn’t try anything with her, did you?”

Peter spluttered, mumbling at your dad. “N-n,o of course not Mr Stark. I-I respect and lo-love your daughter very much. We just kissed for a bit- and I mean, it felt terrific- wait, that’s not why I’m with her. I’m not wi-with her for her beauty. I mean-she i-is beautiful, but I don’t want that. Wait-uh-”

Giggling at what Peter was saying, you threaded your fingers through his own, squeezing them to give him some strength and to tell him to shut up before he said anything else. Tony sighed, giving an ‘I’m too old for this shit’ face.

“Okay, thank you for telling me about your love life, kiddo, but I’d rather not hear it. Both of you, meet me in the car. We can stay at the compound today, and I’ll tell Happy to text May.”

Tony turned around, walking to the car, while you and Peter stood there in shock. “Do you think he’ll let us sleep in the same room?” you asked Peter, nudging him playfully.

“NO”, your dad shouted from across the street, turning to look back at Peter, doing the ‘I’m watching you’ sign. Peter visibly gulped from beside you, making you chuckle.

“Hey! Peter, Y/N!” Liz called out, running from inside the house. “I saw your dad. Are you heading home?”

Nodding defeatedly, you confirmed it. She smiled lightly before telling us to wait here, running back in. In a minute, she ran back out, a small bag in each hand. “Here, a small return gift.”

“Aw, thanks, Liz!” Peter said, smiling at her.

She smirked. “You’ll like it even better when you find out what I put in yours, Peter. For a fact, both of you can use it.” She winked at us, making me worried.

“Wait, you what did you-”

“Face masks. Get your mind out of the gutter Y/N”, Liz said, laughing. Peter scoffed from beside me, laughing as well.

“Anyway, gotta go, Liz. See you at school.” Hugging the girl goodbye, you and Peter made your way to the car.

“That was nice of Liz”, Peter commented, looking up at the stars.

“Yeah, but I got my party favour”, you said simply, putting your hand in Peter’s, pulling him down to give him one sweet kiss under the night sky.

“HEY HEY HEY, NO KISSING INFRONT OF ME!” Tony yelled from the car.

“Wait, how did Mr Stark know we're together?”

“YOUR SUIT OBVIOUSLY!”, Tony yelled, getting the car upfront.

Peter groaned, banging his head against the window. “I knew it!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Thanks for reading this, guys! Hope you enjoyed this small fic. I loved writing it, plus it’s one of my longest ones, so expect more one-shots like this. See you till the next one!

[shesawriter39049]

|FEVER| M|

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

About- Namjoon just has a kink for letting you do whatever the hell you want with him...Whether that be putting him in a hot pink suit shirtless! Or, telling him he’s a good boy as he fucks you into oblivion!

OR- Namjoon and yourself hooked up 5 months ago when the boys were in London on Tour, and you were the creative director for there British GQ & Harper’s Bazzar Cover! Now, months later he’s prepping to release his second mixtape “RM vs Rap Monster”. Opting to go a complete 360 from his first release Mono in all realms. So, with that being said BigHit thinks he needs someone with a little more... “umph” Take a wild guess as to who they call...

WC:1.2k (Sneak peek)

WARNINGS: Switch OC (Top & Bottom...but there's no real dom/sub tones here) Service top/power bottom Namjoon, praise kink, Fingering, Unprotected sex(Back shot), come play, dirty talk, light choking, light overstimulation, (This is lowkey a little softer than it sounds) The OC kinda leads this, but Joon isin’t the cliché “sub” he just likes letting her take control.

NOTE- Just my take on the OG cliché Artist X Stylist AU (Though she’s more of a full package, Art Director/Stylist/Photographer ETC) I have tried to add some minor elements to make it a little more realistic. I will say I typically stray from “Idol-verse” just because if we’re being real, the cultural difference alone sometimes stunts my creativity...BUT I just had a little fun with this one...so I hope you all enjoy it. Also, I don’t go into much physical details but in my mind regardless of race, aesthetic wise the OC is a huge contrast to what he’s use to which is part of her appeal. I picture a tatted Barbie of some sorts...

SIDE NOTE: No shade, but shade, I was lowkey inspired to write this bc I have very strong opinions about the creative team at BH....

*** Let me know if you guys want the full thing or not...I kidna flaked on posting because it is such a cliché lol

SONG- FEVER DUA LIPA  FT ANGELE

~~~~~~~

“Well, it’s a yes for me” Eyeing him in this Hot pink-fitted Burliti suit, which you paired with a very sheer black Arnar Mar turtle neck. The minute you saw the piece on the runway you’d been dying to get it on someone with melanated skin, and it just so happens, the boys are fresh off the US leg of their stadium tour! So, lucky for you, baby boy’s been in the sun a lot, and Namjoon’s currently a sinful shade of brown and you're totally here for it…

Then to top it off, the mesh material of the turtle neck creates the perfect silhouette around his offensively toned chest, outlining the muscles sinfully. Eternally snorting at the way the fans are gonna thank and curse you out all at the same damn time once they see the looks you’ve pulled for this man!

And yes, you had your crew bring extended shades of foundation and concealer, because his face and neck will match if your name is going to be attached to these damn photos! 

Head tilted to the side as you silently observe the way he rakes over his reflection in the mirror, it’s a sixth sense you’ve acquired as a stylist at this point. Half of your job is essentially being a hype man/self love coach, real shit, a lot of these artist aren't always as...confident as one may think!

And just like clockwork Namjoon runs his palm down his thighs, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on his pants for the umpteenth time in the span of oh I don’t know 30 seconds? Which in turn prompts you to say….

“You look good Joonie...” Musing over your second glass of Don, the compliment was genuine, tone warm, soothing even, not a hint flirtation insight because that wasn’t your motive. You weren’t trying to get him flustered you’re just trying to gas him up a little, you wanted to see Namjoon get alittle cocky and feel himself!

Ears perking up like an overgrown puppy, head whipping in your direction “Yeah?” The way this man’s eyes just lit up like the soul skyline. I just-goddamn, an almost bashful smile toys on those plush lips of his, and you can’t help the way your chest flutters with nothing but fondness.

“So fuckin cute” Flutters off your lips, as you hide a smile of your own behind a half empty whine glass. The delivery was so faint it almost go lost in the background music floating through the air. However the slight flush hitting his cheeks let you know Namjoon heard you whether he wanted to admit it or not!

”Mmmhmm, the color looks fuckin insane against your skin, not to mention, the way everything's going to pop once we tone your hair a little! “ Eyes drinking him in from head to toe, though there was nothing suggestive playing within your iris. Very much aware of time and place and right now your genuinely looking respectfully! Seeing if any alterations are needed, making sure you like where everything sits along his frame. Making notes in your phone of places you want to pin and adjust later...snapping a couple shots here and there. 

Licking his lips anxiously as he plays with the lapels on the blazer “But like-I mean-I- dont’-It doesn’t look like I’m... trying too hard or anything?” Brows furrowed in the center of his face, jaw tight, wincing slightly at his own words, almost as if he was afraid of your response. The vulnerability within his delivery was more than evident, and no matter how common this is with artist, it’s still just as devastating! Regardless of how much he tried to play it off as if he was just making casual conversation, you can see how blatantly uncomfortable he is . Gazing back at you wide eyed, and uncannily exposed, pointing at the outfit in question. Licking his lips anxiously as he plays with the the blazer, switching posses subtlety trying to get a better feel for the suit.  

You stayed silent for a minute, taking the time to actually process before speaking which is rare, not gonna lie. Gaze piercing as you hop off the bed, wine, and accessories in hand, swaying closer. “It’s fashion”. The baited pause almost implied that’s all you had to say, as if one-word was self-sufficient, and in your mind it was...but you knew better than to just leave it at that.

“Art at its finest Mr. Kim” You smile something a little devious, and he flushes even deeper as you slowly start to invade his space eyes locked with him meaningfully. You can physically see the shift, the closer you get, Namjoon starts fidgeting slightly under your gaze but he doesn't back down.

“It gives you room to play, create...it’s something that let’s us connect to people without saying a damn thing.” Suddenly the hand that wasn’t holding your alcohol has become a prop, flailing around haphazardly as you spoke, pointing at the various pieces hanging on clothes racks in your suite! The penthouse has essentially been transformed into your own personal walk in closet for the next 5 or so days! “It’s a statement. A opportunity to tap into a side of yourself that maybe you can’t always verbally articulate to the world around you! More importantly, it’s supposed to be fun, it’s literally something that can be removed within seconds! I mean we all have to wear clothes so why not just enjoy it?”  Head cocked to the side as you appraise him, brow quirked, eyes warm, yet there's a clear challenge playing within your gaze.

Namjoon’s watching you intently, almost as if he’s taking mental notes as you speak...the heaviness within those dangerously honed eyes of his could almost be unsettling to some, but you quite like it. Made you feel as though he actually gives a flying fuck about what you’re saying.

“In my opinion the only time it looks like someone’s “Trying too hard” Making little air bunnies with your spare hand “Is if they look uncomfortable in what they’re wearing, confidence is key, and I know you know that better than anyone RM!” You muse batting your lashes in Namjoon’s direction, and he dimples back at you, eyes sinking into tiny crescents, face rivaling the color of his suit, trying to hide said smile behind his own glass of champagne.  

“I could put you in a damn clown suit...” Words trailing off your tongue lackadaisically as you grow distracted searching the bar for a specific chain from John Hardy. “Which” Focus snapping back in his direction making the later splutter a little “Would be fire as fuck if I did by the way, but-”  Namjoon ended up cackling midsentence, almost choking on his drink in the process, fist pounding against his sternum.

Yeah..killing the leader of Bangtan wasn’t really high on your list tonight....

“Ayee, none of that shit...” Smacking him in the back a little more so just to be an ass because he wasn’t even choking anymore “Don’t die on me until we at least get this damn photoshoot done, I had to cancel my trip to Jamaica for this shit!”

Now he’s damn near choking and his laugh was contagious, it’s just.. loud, carefree so yes, your cackling, and there's nothing cute about it. But you honestly don’t care, you let yourself get lost in it! Finally able to feel the atmosphere in the room start to shift to something a little less scripted and a little more organic...

Throwing his hands in the air as If he’s waving a nonexistent white flag “I’m sorry, noona” There’s a pout playing in his lips, not exactly aegyo per say, but it’s fuckin adorable “Blame PD-nim, it’s his fault we had to do this so last minute” Wheezes from his throat, in the form of a slight whine, almost rivaling Jimin if I’m honest.

You already know he was laughing more so due to your delivery, specifically, your casual use of profanity over anything else. This is actually something you use to be self-conscious about, especially at your first shoot with the boys, at the shoot for GQ . Well aware it wasn’t as common in Asia for people especially women to use “fuck” like a comma. So you were hoping they wouldn’t be offended, or uncomfortable by your dialect, and, thankfully they didn’t seem to mind. Much like Joonie over here, they found it entertaining over anything.

“Yeah, a huh, sureee...” Eyes rolling to the back of your head playfully as you start lightly altering the suit in question with clips and pens. “Stay still babe” The pet name slipped off your tongue effortlessly, honestly, that's what you call most people in your life. However you were far too focused to notice how wide eyed and flustered the man before you became upon hearing it directed at him so casually.

A faint little “Sorry” muses off his lips as he gnaws on his inner cheek, trying to stay still as you ghetto-rig hems into place until you can get this under your sewing needle.

“ No, but real shit…” You sigh, taking on a slightly more serious tone “If you step in front of that camera like you own the bitch, regardless of what your wearing..., then they can’t tell you shit! If your comfortable there’s no such thing as trying too hard” You shrug nonchalantly like that was the simplest concept known to man, downing the rest of your drink “Alright, that’s all, thanks for coming to my Ted talk” Waving him off as if you’re about to leave the room and he pouted playfully, jokingly begging you not to leave him yet...it felt good to be able to banter like this. The shift continuous shift within the atmosphere was more than welcomed…

Hesitantly you watch his eyes find their way back to the full length mirror, which promptly smacks you back to reality!

Unfortunately you didn't fly all the way to Seoul just to drink,  and shoot shit with Namjoon for hours on end,  your actually here to work…

Sooo...

“Alright” Placing your arms on his shoulders, giving him a reassuring squeeze as you peer over his shoulder. Meeting his gaze through the glass, chin resting gently against the blade. “Back to the reason you came Mr. “I’m sooo anxiously” Shooting him a teasing little smirk in the process “The suit, yay or nay”

So, here’s the thing technically the official fitting is tomorrow, and as far as his team knows he’s in the studio with Yoongi and Hoseok finishing up a song!

Which of course raises the question as to why he’s here..alone..mind you..no staff or security in site.

Just Kim Namjoon and yourself.....

~~~~

Heyyyy, Lemme know if you guys want this or not, it will leave kinda open ended because it was supposed to kinda be a 3 part mini series initially. Part 1 ends the morning of the shoot, the full thing is set to be around 6/7k! Spoiler, the company is going to want to keep her around for more than just Namjoon’s solo project....

Also, YES...I did see that they actually put Tae in that Burliti suit (I wrote this long before that shoot was released)...I actually hated the way it was styled it though...I never thought I’d say this but MGK’s team did a better job than BH....

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@akagamiko​ asked: 💋 //gib ❤️

Everyone sending ‘💋’ in my inbox gets a kiss from my muse

Sitting on the bar top, Ikkaku laughed as Shanks regaled her with one of the stories of his time with the Roger Pirates. Specifically, the time her grandfather had managed to trick the Pirate King himself into temporarily giving him command of the crew, and how he’d made the two cabin boys his co-first mates.

“So, Tomasu’s strutting around wearing the captain’s coat while Roger’s swabbin’ the deck, and Buggy an’ I are trying so hard not to let the power go to our heads but, well, how could we not? We were a couple of kids an’ even though we knew Rayleigh would tan our hides after, it was just too good of an opportunity, and Barnabas’ shell needed a good waxing anyway...”

It took a lot of effort to keep herself upright with how hard the engineer cackled in delight. Gramps had never told her this story! It was amazing to imagine her grandfather wearing Gol D. Roger’s coat, bossing around such a famous crew while the two apprentices ran around being unholy terrors. She held up her hand, wordlessly begging him to pause the story while she caught her breath. Shanks really was a fantastic storyteller, and she didn’t want to miss one bit of this tale.

However, she also needed a moment because she felt someone’s gaze boring holes into her. At first she’d assumed it was Law disapproving of her being friendly with another captain, but no, he was deeply engrossed in a conversation with Benn, looking somewhat pleased to have found an intellectual equal. So who was it?

Across the bar, she noticed a group of rough-looking thugs. Local toughs and bandits, from the look of them. She’d overheard them talking shit about pirates when the two crews came in, but both captains had seemed to consider them not worth their time and effort, so they’d simply ignored them. Unfortunately, the leader had taken to leering at the sole woman in the party, and while Ikkaku could just as easily ignore it, she was perhaps feeling a little petty and channeling her old man’s mischievous streak, so instead she leaned in and planted a kiss onto the corner of Shanks’ mouth.

The Yonko stared at her, flabbergasted at her boldness, until she jerked her head towards the bandits who were grumbling amongst themselves about how an old man had scored a kiss from the pretty lady. “Didn’t want to deal with those guys hitting on me later and having to kick their asses and, well, you were closest,” she explained with a shrug, though she did smile apologetically.

For his part, Shanks chuckled and gave Ikkaku a cheeky grin as he leaned his weight against the bar. “You know, I could keep away creepy guys anytime you wanted if you joined my crew.”

A snort left her nose. It wasn’t a serious offer. She’d turned it down enough times for him to know that, but it had gotten to the point where she doubted a night with the Red Hair Pirates would be complete without it, though he usually asked in front of her captain just to rile Law up. Still, Ikkaku gently swatted his arm in reproach. “Thanks but no thanks. Already got a captain who does it with gusto.”

“Well, can’t blame a guy for tryin’,” he chuckled, shaking his head. Glancing across the tavern, his gaze fell back to the woman before him. “But, how about another kiss, just to make sure those mountain bandits really get the message, eh? Or at least as an apology for breaking my poor heart with another rejection?”

With a chuckle, Ikkaku nodded her head and pressed a kiss to the opposite corner of his mouth, feeling it twitch with a smile beneath her lips. When she pulled away his expression was borderline smug, and with a booming laugh he ordered them another round of drinks before getting back to the story he’d been telling. 

[storiesofsvu]

Calex 138 because I can totally picture Casey saying that 😂😂

It starts out innocently enough, Olivia’s invited the girls from the squad and DA’s office over for a night of drinking gossiping and board games.

They’ve ordered pizza, munching on it and discussing the most recent office drama, laughing over their colleagues perils and escapades. Everyone’s having a good time, a few round of drinks in and just genuinely enjoying spending time with each other not within the walls of the office.

There’s a round of Cards Against Humanity, where people’s personalities really come out and start to shine through as jokes are made and things are mildly inappropriate.

The Wii’s set up for a couple of rounds of Mario Kart that somehow Alex dominates despite being the only one that doesn’t actually drive.

Fresh wine bottles are cracked and someone tugs out Monopoly, figuring that they’re all such good strategy people that it should be a fun, though competitive game

Once there’s properties being bought around the board is when deals start to be made, trading specific things for specific things, money or houses added in to up the anti.

Alex thought she would have the game in the bag once she’d bought a few properties but honestly, is doing terrible, though she completely blames it on the wine, and is not willing to admit that she’s very obviously losing, being the stubborn one that she is. Her and Casey start to get into it, playfully, but also majorly over trading things, especially because Casey has two of three green squares and Alex has the third one and refuses to give it up.

Rita’s completely abandoned the game and uncharacteristically picked up one of Noah’s colouring books and has moved to the kitchen table with Melinda, occupying themselves watching the drama unfold. They were waiting for a poker game to start, actually be able to win some money but after this they’re sure that’s not a good idea anymore

Olivia and Amanda are still in the game, but Amanda’s close to folding, she knows she’s not gonna win, and already had to mortgage one of her squares.

Olivia and Casey make some deals, swapping things around that advantage both of them while Alex still refuses to give up the green square unless she gets one of the purple ones from Casey, who has all three. Even with the bribes of extra money or the expensive blue properties, Alex won’t budge.

She’s barely paying attention at this point, having pulled down another colouring book, distracting herself with that unless it’s her turn. Two rounds later she’s stuck in jail, and can’t afford to get out.

Casey takes the opportunity to try and trade for the green card, essentially bailing Alex out. The blonde pouts and refuses once again.

Two rounds after that and she’s gone completely bankrupt, frustrated with her lack of ability to win at a wimpy child’s game as she tosses her pieces toward Olivia who’d been playing banker.

Casey swiftly buys the green card she’d been waiting on from the bank and turns to Alex, smug grin on her face as she’s basically won the game now, “Stick that in your juice box and suck it!” She taunts and Alex hucks a hotel at her that not so conveniently lands in Casey’s wine glass.

Rita & Melinda are cackling at the antics, Casey’s child like taunting, not even using swears or arguments that they know she’s capable of in the courtroom (casey blames the wine)

Meanwhile Olivia nearly has to separate the two of them as hotel pieces start to go flying through the room at a faster rate and Alex nearly spills her wine all over the carpet.

At the end of the night things aren’t quite forgiven, but the girls know they’ll more than make it up to each other once they’re home.

Olivia swears she’s never hosting another game night with lawyers ever again, and if she does the only game they get to participate in is Candyland.

[mentallyillcolorwheel]

What is Love?

cw: none // ships: platonic (?) intrulogical, background queer-platonic demus // summary: remus and logan try to figure out the difference between romantic and platonic feelings. // notes: remus uses he/vae and roman is bigender // please don’t like without reblogging, reblogs are much more helpful and encouraging

———

“Remus?”

Remus looks up from his desk to the doorway, where vaer name has been called. Standing there is Logan. He’s dressed in a large blue hoodie and sweatpants with his hair pulled back in a headband and ponytail, instead of his usual attire.

“Hey Lo!” Remus says with a smile. Vae twirl in the office chair he’s in, waving towards himself. “C’mon in, don’t be a stranger!”

Logan stands for another moment, cautious, but then moves into the room, shutting the burn-covered door behind him.

“Hugs okay?” Remus asks. Logan shakes his head, still lingering near the door. “Okay, no problem! Come sit down, what’s on your mind?”

Logan sits on Remus’ bed, leg bouncing as soon as he sits. He stares blankly ahead for a moment and then speaks.

“What is love?”

“Baby don’t hurt me,” Remus sings with a laugh. Logan smiles a bit at that. “Nah but seriously, uh, in general? Or is there a more specific question?” Vae know sometimes Logan will be trying to say something specific but ends up saying something more general while trying to gather his thoughts.

“Well,” he pauses, trying to think of how to phrase his question. “I know, generally, what love is. It is an intense or deep affection for someone you care about. But there’s many kinds. The Greeks words for love are agape, eros, philia, storge, philautia, and xenia, but what’s used now is platonic, romantic, queer-platonic, and familial.”

Logan pauses, and Remus nods to him, so he continues. “Familial and platonic I understand. Familial is love between family, and platonic is love between friends. But I don’t understand queer-platonic or romantic.”

“Ohh okay!” Remus says, understanding the question now. “Uh, shouldn’t you be asking Roman about this? He’s a lot more- “

“She day,” Logan corrects.

“She’s a lot more knowledgeable on romance, y’know? She’d probably be able to explain it better than me.”

“Well, that may be true, but even if you know less, we understand each other more than Roman and I. I’ll understand more of what you explain compared to Roman explaining it.”

“That makes sense,” Remus hums. “Well, queer-platonic’s probably gonna be easier for me to explain because of me and Snakey, so we’ll start there.”

Remus gets up and starts pacing in front of Logan. Moving around helps vaem get vaer thoughts in order.

“Okay so queer-platonic love is sort of a blurred mid line between platonic and romantic. It’s not romantic love and it’s not platonic. It’s stronger than what people traditionally consider platonic, like some qpps want to get married! And that’s not a traditionally platonic thing. It was started by aromantic people, but anyone can use it.

“It’s also, like, subjective I guess? Like Jan and I, we totally could have stuck with labeling our relationship platonic! Because really, queer-platonic is a thing because society has really weird specifications for what should be romantic and platonic. We just use the label because it kinda makes more sense? It’s-, ugh.”

Remus plummets backwards, landing on the floor on his back.

“Okay maybe it’s not easier. I’m sorry Lo, but it’s really weird to explain. Hell, I don’t really get it! Like, romantic feelings are supposed to be so much stronger than platonic, and you’re not supposed to want to kiss and cuddle and that shit with friends, but it doesn’t make sense why!”

“See, that’s my problem!” Logan exclaims from the bed. “How is the strength between friends different than between partners? Where’s the figurative line between close friends and partners? How do you differentiate between romantic and platonic?”

The pair are silent for a moment, taking in the thoughts.

“Romance is such a weird fucking concept,” Remus sighs, sitting up on the floor. Logan nods.

“I wouldn’t typically word it that way, but I agree,” Logan says. “I also may be romance repulsed.”

“Like on the aro spectrum?” Remus asks.

“I’m not sure,” Logan responds, flopping sideways to lay on Remus’ bed. “I just know that standard romantic things, like flirting and kissing, ‘lovey-dovey stuff’,” He does air quotes. “are repulsive to me.”

“That’s valid!” Remus replies. Vae get up and sits at the foot of the bed. “Y’know, I blame this on Disney.”

Logan’s silent, then snorts and laughs. Remus giggles at Logan’s reaction.

“Seriously!” Vae say through giggles. “Romance was a marketing scheme by Disney to sell shit!”

Logan cackles, shoving Remus with his foot. They both laugh for a minute, happy in each other’s company.

When his laughter dies down to breathless giggles, Logan sits up next to Remus and takes vaer hand.

“Love is a very confusing and strange concept, to both of us it seems.” Remus nods. “Nonetheless…I love you Remus. Romantic or platonic or whatever, it doesn’t matter. I care about you very, very much and you’re very important to me. I’m glad to have you in my life.”

Remus gives him a sharp toothed grin and grips his hand a little tighter. “Love you too Lolo. Now, you wanna watch a movie?”

“Hm, documentary?”

“True crime documentary?”

“Deal.”

[yzkhr]

A Christmas oneshot featuring Shinichi and Sonoko with a little bit of Shinran as well

May everyone enjoy the rest of the year and Happy Holidays!

-

"So," the twenty two year-old Suzuki Sonoko asked for the nth time as she peeks out of the dressing room, yawning as she languidly modeled a pink ribboned dress, "remind me again why I'm here at the mall shopping for fancy outfits instead of sleeping in my day off? And with you of all people."

The man in question, former highschool detective now a respected police officer Kudo Shinichi, shooked his head and looked at the dress with dissaprovement before answering.

"Because, it's almost Christmas and I need to give Ran something." he then picked out another pink dress from the rack, this time it's off shoulder and too lacy for Sonokos' taste. "How about this one?"

"Why do I need to be here then? It's not like I know Ran more than you do. You guys literally moved in together as soon as you turned eighteen." It was now her turn to disagree as she glared rather offensively at the outfit. Shinichi being the receiver of such look all throughout his life, got the message and brings it back to where it was five seconds ago.

"I've been giving Ran all the stuff she wanted since we were little kids. I'm running out of ideas you know." he admitted with his face slightly flushed at the mention of their immediate live in, as if remembering everyones' knowing looks back when they first announced it.

She grinned, catching on to what the detective is trying to get to (Or at least what she interprets he's trying to get through) "So, what you're saying is, that you need my amazing skills and judgement as someone who not only has the best fashion sense in Beika but also as Rans' one and only bestfriend?"

The woman compliments herself and walked across to choose from two blouses on the nearest shelf that caught her eyes as she acts unbothered while Shinichis' face turned sour.

"I knew I should've just called Haibara for help." he mumbled under his breath, eyebrows twitching at sight of his overconfident childhood friend. His complaint didn't go unheard however, as the Suzuki Heiress' head turned at the sound, eyes sharp and accusing.

"What did you say?" voice low and threatening, she asked. Shinichi could have answered honestly and annoy her enough for her to leave right then and there but he remembered, that if Sonoko were to leave through the shops' doors, so would his chances of suprising and making Ran happy with his present.

So, with the thought of satisfying his girl, he gulped down both his saliva and repressed pride as he puts on a facsimile of a smile.

"I said, 'yes, you're absolutely right Suzuki-san.'" Sonoko seemed to buy his false agreement as her face broke into a smile of triumph, treading through one of the clothing racks while laughing as if she won the loterry.

Shinichi on the other hand reaches out to his phone, contemplating whether he should just call Haibara over. But then he decided against it, coming to the conclusion that he rather handle a proud woman he had known all his life, than another proud woman who he had only been aware of for about a quarter of it.

Wary and defeated, he sighed as he followed. "Let's just get this over with."

-

After debating and choosing among hundreds of clothes and outfits for literal hours, it's hard for Sonoko to pretend and act oblivious when all the eyes and peeking they keep receiving from different women started becoming full on stares. What's even more uncomfortable would be the fact that she's not even supposed to be the one bothered but the man beside her!

Well, she can't blame them. It is rare for a man to be in store specifically made for women. She remembered how she once brought Makoto in a boutique and all she got were cute skirts and an embarrassed karate boyfriend on the way home.

The ladies were too expressive however, that even she can't help but feel restless. Most girls gaze at the detective with eyes clearly full of admiration, some with an uneasy amount of lust Sonoko just had to look away from, others even fuss and giggle around in groups, their topic so painfully obvious with the way they steal glances every now and then.

It makes her want to raise an eyebrow all day long, wondering what these females and specially her bestfriend saw in this man that she just couldn't figure out. To Suzuki Sonoko, Kudo Shinichi was, is, and always will be a mystery nerd with—she'll have to admit— good looks, intelligent mind, high morale, but unfortunately, possesses an insensitive and sarcastic personality she can't take ( even though ironically, his personality is too similar to her own).

But, then again, as she watches him put intense effort into judging and observing every attire in his view with undivided attention as if uncovering a crime scene when in fact, it's only about finding a Christmas gift all the while remaining innocent from the various gaping all around him, Sonoko almost thought Ran is also lucky to have him as a boyfriend.

Almost.

Wanting to distract herself, she attempts to converse. " What are you trying to find exactly? We've been here for hours and we still can't find something good enough for your taste."

He flinched, startled at the sudden voice. Once recovered, puts his hand on his jaw and looks up to the ceiling, similar to when he tries to piece together objects and clues that doesn't have any connections at the surface.

"Hmm, I want a present that, you know, when she opens it, she'll be really impressed. But I also want it simple since Ran's not a fan of grand plannings. She's always so extra and thoughtful when it comes to giving but hates receiving anything like them. So, I want a gift she'll absolutely love but won't complain about how expensive or time consuming it is."

The way a certain detective says his words while wearing an expression Sonoko only ever had the chance of seeing when their childhood friend is involved makes her want to tease but she keeps quiet instead, letting him keep his pride.

The brown haired woman laughed and silently agreed at his sentiment. Ran had always been so creative when it comes to preparing other peoples' present but feels guilty when they do the same. It was honestly endearing.

"Then, why a dress? Why not a book? Ran loves books, doesn't she?" she wondered. Shinichi shooks his head at the suggestion. "She's been too busy lately. I'm pretty sure she won't even have a chance of opening it."

"Then plan her a vacation!" he deadpanned and reminded her. "She doesn't like grand thing, remember?"

"A romantic date?"

"Did that on our first year together."

"Watch a movie?"

"Too simple."

" Expensive dinner?"

"Done with that on our third year."

"Aaah!" Sonoko whined in frustration. "I don't know, kiss or make out with her on Christmas or something!" she finally blurted out, having no ideas left whatsoever.

A few seconds of silence between the two passed and realization kicks in. Worried at how suddenly unresponsive Shinichi is, Sonoko glances to apologize if she angered him at her careless outburst.

"I'm sorry! It was a joke--Shinichi-kun?" her words died out, distress turning into confusion. Rather than a glare or an indifferent countenance, she was met by a very flustered Shinichi, with all the blood in his body seemingly gathering at his face while his eyes looks at anywhere but hers. With that, Sonoko slowly made a deduction.

"Y-you already did it?" ever so quietly she asks in disbelief. When his face got even redder than before, she got her unspoken confirmation.

With that, Sonoko laughed.

Her uncontrollable cackling attracted everyone's attention, including the dazed detective who stood up almost instantaneously, aware of his unconscious slip-up.

"B-Barou! W-We never did such a thing! Your sudden vulgarity just surprised me!" his cover ups were left unheard, as the Suzuki's Heiress guffaws were too loud.

Suddenly, Sonoko got an idea.

She stopped laughing, but the smile on her face foreshadowed a terrible feeling to Shinichi, who wanted nothing more but to go home, away from embarrassment. She runs off before he can even stop her from further humiliation she'll surely cause.

He inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm himself down and lose the apparent redness of his visage. His little breathing exercise proved to be useless however, with Sonoko coming back holding something that made his face as reddest it had ever been, even comparable to the blood he sees on the crime scenes.

On Sonokos' hands lay the thinnest piece of clothing he had ever seen, with it's laces and uncomfortably soft looking silk barely even covering anything but the important parts. It didn't help how seductive the color was, crimson, just like his face right now as he stared at it. Out of all the things the woman could have brought him, it had to be this. It just had to be a fucking lingerie.

"Wha--" he started but was cut off with her mouth that Shinichi begged she should've just shut.

"I found the perfect gift! And it's even red!" she held it up even more, showing a clearer picture that Shinichi didn't know if he regrets seeing.

"You--"

"It's simple but I assure you that Ran would love it!"

"So--"

"What's even better, is that not only will she love it, you'll love it too--"

He thankfully, thankfully, cuts her off, not only being heard by the everyone in the store, but probably the entire shopping mall of Beika.

"SONOKO!"

He really should've just called Haibara. Or better yet, cooked a fancy dinner for Ran as a Christmas gift instead.