#I just need an au were they are fine for my own sanity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

borathae · 1 year ago

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“Yoongi joins you in your bath and you talk about your days.”

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Fluff

Warnings: casual & intimate nudity, Yoongi being the cutest bean in love

Wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: I lose a lil bit of my sanity each time I write fluff. I can handle anything, but fluff always ruins me 😔 i love them so much 😔

You spent the day working in the gardens. It was a very rewarding day and left you feeling utterly content.

Content, but also very exhausted and very dirty. So you hopped into the shower for a quick rinse off and while you did, let the bathtub fill with the hottest water. You used some of the lavender oil you made with your flowers and then lit some candles to set the mood. Ten minutes later, you were boiling in your little lavender soup, getting rid of all the tension in your muscles.

It is another ten minutes later when a faint knock on your door rips you out of your relaxation.

“Yes?”

“It’s me”, Yoongi says.

“It’s open.”

The door opens and in steps Yoongi.

“Oh? Sorry”, he gasps, turning around, “why didn’t you say something?”

“Why are you turning away? You’ve seen me naked a million times before.”

“I don’t know, just don’t wanna be rude.”

You laugh, “you’re so weird”, you chuckle, “what’s up? Do you need help with something?”

“No it was…no it’s fine, it was dumb”, he dismisses you.

“No, it’s okay. Tell me.”

“It’s nothing, I’m dumb, just wanted to ask for, you know…”, he lowers his voice to a whisper, making it unable to understand him.

“I didn’t get the last part.”

“I just wanted to…”

“Yoongi, you are talking too quietly. I can’t understand you.”

Yoongi whips around, “I just wanted to ask for cuddles!” he blurts out and pouts, “it’s dumb, okay?” he adds in a shy mumble and his eyes flitting to his feet.

“Aww my love, it’s not dumb. You’re so cute”, you coo, resting your chin on the edge of the bathtub, “do you wanna hop in here? The water’s so nice.”

He rubs his tummy, inspecting you with his head tilted to the side.

“Mhm?”

“I guess”, he mumbles, “if you’re asking.”

“Yeah? That’s so awesome. Hop on in here then.”

“Look away.”

“I’m even closing my eyes. See?” you say, closing your eyes with a faint smile on your lips.

You listen to him get undressed. Silence follows where he walks to you. You are aware that his nature helps him stay quiet. A soft knock against the tub makes you open your eyes.

Yoongi is looking down at you with his hands gripping the edge of the bathtub and one leg pulled up.

“Don’t look”, he whines.

“I’m not, I’m looking at your eyes.”

He mumbles something, which is most definitely a shy complaint. Then he finally steps inside.

“Oh geez", he gasps, lowering himself slowly, "what the fuck’s wrong with you? Why would you wanna boil yourself like that?”

“What do you mean? It’s not even that hot”, you say in a laugh.

He lowers his butt into the water and tenses up.

“Yes it is”, he complains, “you’re gonna get cooked ballsack for dinner, like fuck.”

He cracks you up to the point where you snort ungracefully. In the time you spend laughing your ass off, Yoongi lowers his own ass into the water, submerging himself in the lavender warmth.

“Don’t laugh”, he nudges you with his foot, “if I knew Imma get boiled, I’d have declined.”

“Oh you dramatic baby”, you snicker, closing the distance between you and him, “and yet here you are. You just like to complain”, you say, cupping his cheeks even if your hands are wet.

Yoongi doesn’t mind, leaning into your touch.

“I guess. I’m getting used to it”, he smiles boyishly, “and I thought that I take hot baths.”

“You gotta admit though, once you’re used to it, it feels amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. Relaxing. That’s nice.”

“Yeah right? And your ballsack isn’t boiled either, is it?” you tease.

Yoongi snorts and chuckles.

“No, it’s good. It just expanded twice its size.”

“Oh you”, you laugh. Yoongi does too. “Don’t talk like this, it’s nasty.”

“Why? It’s natural”, he laughs.

“I guess, but it’s so weird", you tease.

“You regularly tell me about your shits. I don’t ask for these kinda updates either, but you tell me”, he throws back, making you laugh.

“I guess, yeah”, you snicker and then lean in to peck his cheek, “you’re wonderful.”

Yoongi leans in for another kiss. One you give him gladly. He returns the favour afterwards. Two kisses on each cheek. He ends all of them with a soft kissing sound. It borders the sound of “mwuah”, just shorter and tinier. It feels so good to receive.

“Did you scrub yourself already?” he asks afterwards, massaging your waist gently.

“Yeah in the shower. I took a shower to wash off the day. I wanted the bath to be solely for relaxation.”

“Mhm, I see. That’s good.”

“Why? Did you wanna scrub me?”

“No, it’s fine. Just thought you needed help.”

“You can still touch me, you know? I like it when you do.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do. Your touch is gentle and loving. I stopped being touch starved because of you.”

Yoongi lowers his eyes shyly.

“Me too”, he confesses, “yeah. Your touch is nice too. I like it. It feels good. Yeah.”

“Yeah? Should we touch each other, my love?” you suggest.

He nods his head and opens his arms, scooting closer. You understand. You close the distance and allow your bodies to connect in an intimate hug. No barriers of clothing between your skins, hot water to warm you up and the relaxing scent of lavender in your noses. The hug feels especially wonderful like this.

Yoongi hides his nose in your neck while you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. His arms cradle you just as much as yours cradle him. Your middles are touching, your chests are melted together and your legs are never breaking contact. It’s so utterly vulnerable and yet healing. To be able to hold him like this is medicine to your heart. You don’t even need to be sad for him to heal you. His hug is so powerful that it will heal even the parts which were never broken.

“This is so nice”, you whisper, having your eyes closed.

“Yeah”, he sighs, enjoying your hug with closed eyes.

“Did you have a good day, my love?”

“It was okay”, he says.

“Yeah? Did you manage to finish the song?”

“Not yet. I got stuck on the bridge. I don’t know what to do. So I stopped and did something else.”

“Mhm I see. I bet you’ll get it soon.”

“I guess. Can you help me with it tomorrow? Can you listen to it?”

“Of course my love, I’d love to do that”, you say, rubbing circles into his back, “can you help me with the garden? I need to carry the palm trees to the terrace, but they’re too heavy.”

“Of course, I’ll help”, he says, drawing senseless patterns on your back.

“Thank you, my prince.”

“It’s fine yeah”, he says and nods his head. Then he nuzzles closer, kissing your neck gently, “you smell so good.”

“It’s the lavender oil.”

“No, not the oil. You smell nice. Happy.”

“I am happy”, you say, “and you? How are you feeling?”

“I’m happy too”, he says.

You shimmy back so you can look at him, but he whines and pulls you back.

“Don’t do that, it makes me sad.”

You snicker, “forgive me for wanting to kiss you.”

“You can do that later. I wanna hug.”

“Okay, fine. I can very gladly live with this deal.”

“Good. I wouldn’t have let you leave either way.”

You laugh, “oh wow okay, I see how it is.”

He snickers and nods his head, kissing your neck afterwards.

“My love?” he whispers.

“Yes, my love?”

“Can I keep going?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I keep kissing your neck?”

“Of course you can. You don’t have to ask.”

“Okay. Mhm, you’re so perfect”, he whispers and begins kissing you, purring quietly as he does.

You watch a movie once you finish the bath, relaxing on the couch with cups of tea and your bodies snuggled close. Yoongi falls asleep with his head on your chest, but denies it once you wake him up. Then later in bed you kiss his face until he falls asleep and you follow him seconds later.

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tadc-harlequin-au · 3 months ago

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I’ve been having this question for a while now and I suppose it’s not the most important but I can’t get it out of my head- is the world like earth? Were there areas/continents more impoverished say than the main area that everything is taking place in- areas that don’t have as much technology I mean, maybe not even puppets. Knowing humanity I wouldn’t put it past that there were villages and uncontacted tribes out there- before the fall I mean and all humanity got wiped out. Ig what I’m trying to get at is if the world just became a giant monoculture or if there was still different collections of people doing things they’re own way. (Sorr if this is a really weird thing to ask)

No no, you're fine. Funny enough, a while back, I was thinking about some rough drafts of literal worldbuilding for the harlequin au, and while this absolutely isn't final (it's TOO small), it does help me establish some rules for what I want this world to be.

It is a giant monoculture-esque/ethnocentric setting, yeah.

The world is NOT Earth. There are similarities yes, but it is significantly smaller than regular earth.

Some areas, lands, or archipelagos are even uninhabitable due to mostly environmental and a strangely paranormal(?) reasoning. Any attempts to expand beyond results in monumental losses whether resourcefully, financially, or just straight up casualties/no one returning ever. They don't have the necessary technology to be able to actually overcome this hurdle, so they cut their losses for now (that was the plan before everyone died that is lol).

That doesn't mean they don't try to harvest whatever resource they can that's in reach. Because they totally would.

The world would be fashioned like a giant cog; leaders say the cog symbolizes unity amongst the cities, and also marks the steady progress of everyone towards "The Future", as a cog helps keep a machine running. Very ironic, considering what state this world is in today.

Yes, I made City of Gears canon from Scarlet's story, I will not hear any objections /lh

The cities are HUMONGOUS. There are a total of 7 Megacities, all connected via giant bridges.

There are large docks for expeditions ALL over the edges of the cog. Planes are very, VERY less popular to use as mode of transport.

But you know what is popular? SKYBRIDGESSSSSSSSSSS BABYYYY

What's a skybridge? Think of "the floating train" + Skylines from Bioshock: Infinite's concepts, but it also spans THE ENTIRE WORLD.

Now, obviously you can smell that a well-hidden dystopian world like this has a lot of systemic corruption in place such as absolutist thinking, stereotyping, outdated societal "norms" and intense class oppression to name a few. I will not be delving incredibly deep into how shitty the old world was for three reasons:

For the sake of my sanity;

Out of respect because I'm severely uninformed and do not actually have the biggest brain nor all the time in the world to research; and

This old world is already gone anyways. There is no need to pick it apart piece by piece in incredible detail, because that's not the main focus of the story anyways. The main focus is how would everyone conform into their new lives, essentially a new beginning for everything?

As such, anything story-related will only be implied through the main cast. Besides, I'm clearly not the only one who's got a lot of ideas for this au, so as long as it's within the realm of possibility, I encourage people to worldbuild if they have ocs for this au, as well as if they so desire. Whether simply implied or directly referenced, go ahead. :)

P.S. some things may be added in the future.

#thanks for the ask!#tadc #tadc au #tadc harlequin au #harlequin au #the amazing digital circus #fantasy worldbuilding #worldbuilding

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orionremastered · 1 year ago

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Anon here! I just saw that your requests are open for Batfam? If you’re still taking requests can you do a regency era Damian Wayne x reader. If you don’t want to do Damian I wouldn’t mind any of the batboys!

xxx

I am always taking requests (they're for my sanity) except for the next three days because I'm on a plane, busy, or sleeping :/

(for this fic, they are Bruce's biological kids) (not completely historically accurate. like at all. but i tried)

Masterlist

Jason Todd x (probably fem due to the law back then unless you want to dream that being gay was allowed in 1817 (some sources also state that lesbianism was never illegal, but I don't know for sure. Just found it interesting))!Reader

Regency Era AU

The poor man is being swarmed by potential— and in all honesty, very desirable— women and their family members who are desperate to introduce the most suitable option for his wife from their family line. Constantly ignoring beginnings of phrases such as "this is the honourable—" and "perhaps you would like to be introduced to my lovely daughter—", and with each one his jaw ticked.

You hide your smile behind your fan, gazing at him from across the ballroom. It is the marriage season and your childhood friend clearly hated it. But that was expected of him as the second son of Bruce Wayne, Duke of York and member of the royal family. Especially since the duke's eldest, Marquess Richard, had recently married a young woman, Marchioness Barbara.

Locking eyes with the green you have known for so long, you tap the top of your open fan. I wish to talk to you.

With abundant relief, he shoos off one particularly frustrating Earl and almost rushes to be by your side. "Thank you," he says sincerely, a smile stretching his face.

"Why do you not wish to talk to them?" you inquire, Jason's smile dropping subsequently. "They are fine young women, after all."

"They're boring," he sighs, "I do not wish to be married to someone who's personality is dull."

"They're not dull," you chide, and he raises a brow. "They are just taught to be agreeable and respectful, my Lord."

"If I asked them about my theory of a novel I am reading, they would simply say, 'Well if you think so, it must be true' and not..."

"Something like I'd say?"

"Exactly."

You suspect it's a common theme with the Waynes; they're seemingly more inclined to look for a spouse that challenges their opinions and joins them in their love of science— the recently wedded Wayne couple bonded over their love of physics, in fact. A quality like that in a women was usually seen as undesirable.

When you were younger and your father made you visit the Waynes, you learned about sciences that your father would've frowned upon; even the daughters, though there were only two, enjoyed the conversations like you did. With Jason and the youngest son, Damian, you would have lengthy conversations about the novels you were reading altogether; these conversations happened so often that their father was tired of having three copies of every novel he owned.

"I have an idea," Jason says, straightening to his full height beside you— tall enough for you to need to tilt your head up if you wanted to look him in the eyes (you always did— something that beautiful was designed to be looked at). "What if you and I get married?"

"You can't be serious."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

You consider him for a moment— you really do— and see no sign of a lie or joke behind his offer. And now that you think about it, it wouldn't be terrible. It was better than your father marrying you off to some old man you didn't know.

Or weren't attracted to.

"Usually there's a dance or two before the proposal," you point out almost teasingly, "And then courtship. For at least a few months. Don't forget, a man should dance with multiple women before deciding who he wishes to wed—"

"Fine," he sighs, rolling his eyes. Yet a small grin remains on his face. "Would you like to dance, then?"

"Hmm, let me think—"

Jason pointedly fake-yawns while playfully glaring your way.

"I would appreciate a dance, yes." And with that, he leads you to the centre of the ballroom, passing his father who watches the two of you with confusion as you begin to dance.

"Are they—"

"Relax, dear," his wife Selina interrupts while lightly leaning against him, also watching the two of you dance, a smile on both of your faces as you whisper quiet yet teasing words to each other. "Don't tell me you couldn't see it before?"

Her husband's silence answers for him.

#batfamily #batfam #batfamily x reader #jason todd x reader

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joonipertree · 1 year ago

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Tags: college au, awkward mikey, flustered mikey, mikey has a crush on you. skateboarder!mikey.

[I wrote this Feb 2022. THIS WAS BEFORE I WATCHED THE SHOW OR READ THE MANGA. I JUST SAW A PIC AND THOUGHT HE WAS CUTE???]

You weren’t sure what you were watching but you were pretty sure it was akin to a circus.

“Mikey, you have to.” A pretty girl said with a bored expression on her face.

“No.”

Mikey, your classmate, was simply circling around her with an equally bored expression. He was the definition of carefree, skateboard under his feet and hands in his pocket with his long blonde hair in a ponytail.

“You were fine five minutes ago.”

“That was before I had two mental breakdowns about it.”

“In the span of five minutes?”

“You don’t know my life.”

“I’m your sister.”

“No.”

“Mikey, just fucking go up to them and kiss already, it’s exhausting watching you pine.” Ryuguji, another classmate of yours, spoke from the bench he was sitting on.

“Shut your fucking mouth before I punch you, Kenchin.” Mikey deadpanned, skating a little wobbly for a second before righting himself.

“That’s not the point of this, you need a partner for the assignment.” The blonde girl spoke sternly.

“I’d rather fail than ask them.”

“I’ll tell big brother on you.”

“Oh no, I’m so scared. What horrible things will he do?” Mikey had a very sarcastic tone in his voice as he shivered exaggeratedly.

“Ass.”

“Emma, I’m still not convinced. There’s nothing that can possibly happen that will make me go and talk to them.”

“Oh hey _____, didn’t see you there.” Ryuguji all but shouted out.

Mikey promptly fell off his skateboard and stumbled two feet forward before stabilizing himself.

“Hey, sorry for just standing there, I needed to use the vending machine.” you said with a giggle.

Mikey all but skipped to the side which made you giggle as you walked towards it.

It was silent for a while and when you turned around, you saw the three of them having some kind of conversation with their eyes. It mostly consisted of Mikey shaking his head vehemently.

Emma looked at you a second later and smiled a saccharine sweet smile at you before saying, “I love that shirt on you, it’s very cute.”

You thanked her and looked to your right to see Ryuguji keeping Mikey in a headlock as the other tried to escape his clutches.

“So, I heard about that project that’s coming up. Do you have a partner yet?”

“Sadly, no.” You sighed. Your friends had paired off already and you were the only one left.

“Mikey doesn’t have a partner either.” Emma said just as Mikey broke himself free.

“Oh, if you want to be my partner then you can.” You said as nonchalantly as possible. To be honest, Mikey was very cute and you always wanted to talk to him but never had the courage.

“i’m-well-no-I mean-I-” Mikey stuttered the worst you’ve ever heard anyone stutter.

“This means yes in Mikey.” Emma informed and for your own sanity, you believed her.

With a drink in your hand, you walked towards him and handed him your phone.

“Add your number in, I’ll text you.”

The boy just stood there in silence, eyes almost out of his sockets as he held the pastel blue covered phone in his hand. You noticed how big his hands were and it made you blush a bit. You wondered what it would feel like to hold them.

“Oh my god, you fucking coward.” Emma muttered but before she could take your phone from his hand, he cradled it against his chest while glaring at her. He then very carefully typed in his digits.

You tried opening your bottle of juice but were very clearly failing to, grunting softly at the effort you were putting in.

He took the bottle from you and gave your phone back before very easily unscrewing the cap.

Why the fuck was that attractive?

He handed it back and you squeaked out a thanks before saying a quick goodbye.

You were too far to hear or see him but the boy melted against his best friend and whined over how cute you were.

“Did you see how cool I was opening that bottle for them? I was so fuckling calm, what the fuck.”

#tokyorev headcanons #mikey headcanon #mikey x reader #tokyo manji gang #tokyo rev fluff #mikey imagines #mikey x you #tokyo rev x you #sano manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano #sano mikey manjiro #tokyo revengers sano manjiro

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voxofthevoid · 2 months ago

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Anniversary Poll 2: The Unfucking

Made the poll one day instead of one week in the OG post. Bad idea. I know my followers' habits, for one, and for another, there's no need to hurry for January plans. Here, the text of the original post reproduced:

So, it’s my two-year anniversary in the JJK fandom—specifically, writing for JJK. On 19th November 2022, around two weeks after finishing the anime and then devouring the manga in an uncharacteristic frenzy, I snapped further and wrote 2517 words for (you’ll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become.

I have, somehow, not gotten any less insane about JJK! I don’t know if I’ll make a whole third year here; that’s only happened with one fandom—the MCU. Regardless, two years is still more than I figured I’d spend here. My average length of stay is one year, barely. But between canon gripping me by the balls and my readers being absolute gems, here I fucking am ✨

Anyway, I’m not doing anything insane to celebrate, mostly because my usual method of letting y'all pick what I should write next won’t work when my current WIP is 80k and only halfway done. Instead, here’s a poll for which fic I should start posting next, once a slot in my current six-fic system frees up—specifically, your resistance, prophetic self-destruction will be done in December. I did have plans for what I’d post in its slot afterward, but let’s forget that.

You pick.

Unlike the last similar poll, I’ve included all my fics this time, not just the longfics. My fem!Gojou fic isn’t included because I intend to post it in December. That other train groping fic with age reversal is also not in the poll because I still may revisit that and add the remaining planned chapters.

Fic titles and one-line summaries are given under the cut, in the same order as in the poll:

your body language on me tells me to be unholy

How not to take your teenage student’s virginity, a live demonstration by Gojou Satoru.

i could keep your bed warm, otherwise i'm useless

There's a fine line between gods and monsters. The line between a monster's malice and a god's love is even finer. Yuuji learns this twice over.

break my patience, corrupt my sacred art

Gojou comes home drunk and proceeds to wage war on Yuuji’s sanity and dick.

the ghost in me was true (but you were haunted too)

Satoru loves a boy to death. Yuuji comes back wrong.

taking the flesh is the only virtue

Stress and trauma trigger Yuuji’s rut a few years too early. Kento’s too kind for his own good, while Satoru’s too curious for anyone’s good.

bloodstains on the collar means just don't ask

Yuuji has a type. Unfortunately, his uncle and his teacher embody that type.

the brute fact of flesh awaiting our teeth

Satoru embarks on a quest to seduce her hot giant of a teacher and continuously bites off more than she can chew.

(the euphoric taste of your tears) swallow it, darling

Yuuji is an unconventional teacher. Satoru still learns, for better or for worse.

#goyuu #nanaita #sukuita #poll #jjk #my fic

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localcanadiancreature62 · 2 months ago

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Fiddlestan au Stan and Fidds argument Post Weirdmaggedon

@mickeytk Here.

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Stan is watching the Duchess Approves in the living room as he hears the loud noises of Dipper and Mabel running around from upstairs as they do dumb kid stuff like forcing each other to gross smelling sniff scratch and sniff stickers,he sighs contentedly as he can finally have peaceful quiet moments like this again without having to worry about the portal or Bill hurting his family anymore. He then smiles as he turns up the volume of his favorite show while eating a can of meat. "Ah. This is the life. No Bill,no portal,no apocalypse,just me in my house and my family being left to their own devices. I sure hope this peace sticks forever." Stan says to himself as he enjoys his quiet afternoon,until he heard the rough knocking on the door. He decided to ignore it as he figured it was probably some dumb gnomes trying to get in and steal food again plus he was busy watching the good part where Duchess sues Count Lionel for killing her new husband. But the knocking persisted. He then groans in annoyance as he walked up to the door to answer it as neither the kids nor his brother were around to answer with them being busy having fun elsewhere. To his surprise,Fiddleford Mcgucket was at his door. He tried to not act happy about the southern man finally reaching out after those painful years of watching him lose himself. "What's your business here,Hick?. Tell me now or i'll shut the door on your freakishly long nose." Stan asks as the hillbilly looked at him with his big bright eyes and charming smile while he lightly blushed,the con man almost vomiting from the fact that the southerner STILL makes him feel this way even after how much he hurt him. "Ah just wanted to see Stanferd' so i could show him my new plans for creating a trapping device fer anomalies. And i.. want to talk to you." Fiddleford explains as he stared at the former grifter expectantly. "Ford's not here,Mcgucket. He's chasing some new moth species in the forest. Get lost." Stan says in frustration,not wanting to face his ex despite how his gut tells him that he absolutely needs to and even yearns to. Fidds isn't offended by the man's harshness in the slightest. As based on the things he recollected about the con's behavior through the kids telling him stories about him,he was always a grump who often avoided being "sappy" unless he couldn't take it anymore. "Well fine. I know how bad ya feel about our.. separation,darlin'. Stanferd' has been telling me about your guilt and how bad you took the heartbreak lately ever since he found out about our relationship. If ya really want me to leave again,i understand. Yer probably not ready to talk yet anyway-." Fiddleford remarks as he then tries to walk away,only for the swindler to grab him by the wrist. "Damnit Ford. I can't believe he told you even when i explicitly told him to NOT tell you anything about my pathetic moping over the break up. And uhhh,you can stay. I.. want to talk too." Stan replied as he opened the door a bit wider to let the hillbilly in as Fiddleford enters the building while the con guided him to the kitchen where they can discuss their relationship more comfortably. Stan sat in his chair while Fiddleford sat at the chair in front of him. "So what do you have to say for yourself?. After making me go through that dumb memory gun 'experiment',which was just an excuse to rope me into your problems." Stan says bitterly,leaving out the part where he heavily grieved the southern man after he lost his sanity in the final moments of the memory tapes before the car crash occurred. "Ah never meant to force you into anything back then. You were completely willing to help at first despite you being annoyed at having to be the camera man." Fiddleford explains as he watched the man shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"Well what about the part where you left me after that car crash and made ME fix the portal while i tried to avoid your cult mess?." Stan remarks as he balled his fists in anger while his hands are placed on the table,wanting to retaliate at the hillbilly for making him hurt for so long yet he doesn't as part of him still deeply cares about the nerd. "I- Ah wasn't in my right mind back then and i figured that the entire world was against me with my slipping sanity as well as paranoia. I had to leave,Stanley or else i wouldn't have held onto the sliver of peace i kept before i fully lost mah mind." Fiddleford says as he looked at the man in guilt,but then Stan banged his fist on the table as he couldn't take it anymore. He needed the hillbilly to know how bad he hurt him.

"YOUR peace?. What about me?,huh?. With the little sanity you had during that time,didn't you once think about how much your little memory gun fiasco affected ME?!. YOUR PARTNER?!. Don't you get it,Fiddlesticks?. You HURT me. You left me to suffer from your dwindling mental state and THEN you abandoned me last minute when your mind couldn't take it anymore,leaving ME to cover up all evidence of YOUR insane cult from the house. I spent those days of memory gun testing watching my beloved southern nerd,the person most important to me at the time,destroy himself with a damn memory erasing ray while you never even called or talked to me about what you were going through before you got into that cult." Stan exclaims as he started crying angry tears as Fiddleford gasps in disbelief at his reaction. "Stanley,hun. Ah had no choice!. Ah had no choice but to leave or else you would've been roped in deeper into my problems. I couldn't reach out because i felt like clawing mah skull with every memory erasure!. Do ya know how hard it was to keep it together while knowin' full well that the gun was ruining me?!." Fiddleford says in slight annoyance over the con not considering how he felt at the time. "No no YOU don't understand. Do you know how hard it was for ME,to see your unhinged bastard self everyday while knowing full well that i couldn't talk to you about what happend with your empty noggin?!. I spent half of my life thinking that it was my fault,Fiddleford. I kept thinking that i was the reason why you went back to using that damned gun,i hated myself for never talking about our issues which lead to you using the memory gun with our every argument. Something i didn't know was actually ruining your brilliant mind with every use." Stan explains as he kept crying,more out of sadness and hurt this time instead of rage. "I did everything for you. I protected you from monsters,i made dinner for you even when i was used to living off of granola bars and couldn't cook for shit,i comforted you every time you had nightmares about Ford coming back to hurt you for quitting the project. Yet you still subjected me to that memory gun shit,and you left me despite everything we've been through together. Heh. Every time i get attached to someone,they always leave me in the end. Whether it's Ford,my old heist buddies Jorge and Rico,or you." Stan remarks bitterly as tears fell on his chest while he kept bawling from the horrible heartbreak as Fiddleford took a guilty glance at him,as he never knew how bad his dwindling sanity affected the man until now. "I.. Stanley. I'm so sorry. I- I had no idea that what i did hurt you that much. I never meant to hurt you,i just made a lot of regrettable decisions and my past arguments with you were just the catalyst. It was never your fault,the blame is all on me. I didn't mean to make you suffer with my problems,i sincerely apologize and i feel terrible for doing all of that to you without realizing how much it hurt ya." Fiddleford explains as he expresses genuine regret for his actions,but the con turns his back on him and refuses to accept his apology. "Sorry won't reverse the unimaginable amount of heartbreak you gave me." Stan says in slight annoyance,as he has accepted the man's apology but he's still angry at him for never explaining himself until 30 years have passed.

"Will this change yer mind?." Fiddleford replied as he then kissed the con straight on the mouth as he placed a light peck on his grifter's lips,the man blushing as he pulled away while leaving the man dumbfounded as Stan laughed from being tickled by the hillbilly's trimmed beard. "Ahahahaha! Fidds,your beard made my mouth feel funny." Stan remarks as he smiled at the hillbilly slyly looked at him. "But ah thought you were still mad at me?~." Fiddleford says as he blushes while staring at the con with pure love in his eyes. "I'm not anymore. Now that you gave me that long overdue apology and that great kiss~." Stan replied as he then kisses the southern nerd again,giving him a longgg slobbery smooch as the saliva connecting their lips breaks soon after he pulls away. "Ah missed yer kisses,and that adorable laugh." Fiddleford says as he smiled at the con,with Stan smiling back as he finally got his nerd back. All he wanted was to hear the man apologize,and get his hillbilly back instead of constantly seeing that empty mindless and insane husk that he became everyday,and he got both in one fateful afternoon. "I missed ya too,Fiddlesticks. I'm so glad to have you back. And we have plenty of time to make up for lost time before the kids come over to pester us about our relationship." Stan remarks as he then looked at the nerd with adoring eyes. "I'd like that. But first,let me hold you again like i always did. C'mere." Fiddleford replied as he gestures for the con to come over,which he obliges as he let himself get tightly embraced by the taller elder as he started crying tears of joy as he hasn't had felt the warm touch of his nerd in years (someone help this touch starved man). Fiddleford then winces in guilt as he thought he messed up again. "Hey,what's wrong?. Why are ya cryin' again?." Fiddleford asks as he kept gently holding his grifter in his arms. "N-Nothing. It's just- I haven't felt your warm embrace in such a long time. I'm so happy to feel it again." Stan replied as he smiled at his nerd while Fiddleford sighs in relief. "And am' glad to hold ya again. C'mere,darlin'." Fiddleford says as he then grabbed the man by the shirt collar as he lightly made out with him,with both of them blushing deeply as Fidds gently caressed his con man's face. Stan smiled through the kiss as he realized that he'll finally get to spend the rest of his life with the southern nerd he adores as he makes up for the time that the memory gun robbed from him.

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charryflavoredblood · 9 months ago

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Far too gone to get out, Far too sane to disappear.

I wrote this for my lovely friend, Maki (@dazai-ritualist) and her yandere Alastor au which I swear is my favorite thing ever. She's literally the sweetest thing ever and if you like yandere Alastor, you will be in heavan. Please please follow and read the series. I swear you won't regret it!!!

"I find that the harder you seem to grip, the more you seem to drop, my love."

Alastor had been quiet the past few days. That was…never good. If he was quiet, it meant he needed to be in deep thought…and if he needed to be in deep thought, you were royally fucked.

Today had been no different. You had woken up late, You went down to the kitchen, where your son and Alastor sit in the wooden breakfast nook that you and Alastor had built together before…all of this.

Everything was normal…

That was bad.

“Mama! Hi! Good morning! Papa-” Noah gets up to run over to you like he always would when he woke up before you in the hotel…you smile fondly. It was almost like you were back home…almost like you were normal.

“Alright, Dear. Let’s let mama wake up now, shall we?”

But of course, Alastor just had to crush that. You frown and walk towards your cabinets…the beautiful light green ones you had once taken such care of before…this.

Your husband hands you a cup of coffee, smiling soft enough to not alert Noah but with far too much of an edge to be sweet.

You almost turn as green as your cabinets and throw up. You don’t, though. Not in front of Noah. You’d seen parents argue and you wouldn’t let your son go through that.

Part of you knew it wasn’t arguing, it was survival but that part had long since been silenced.

“The station is having a late start today…something about the end of lent or something to that effect. Never-the-matter, it gave me time to cook this morning. I haven’t had time to cook for him yet.” Alastor gestured to Noah, to which your little boy beamed, just like you had when your marriage had been friendly…platonic…perfect.

Oh how you longed for the days where you’d leave each other alone. Where your house was safe. Where you could do whatever you so wished. Where you could not only not be afraid but also joyful. Where you could be happy.

Because you weren’t happy. Not anymore. From what you’ve read, you were very clearly struggling with depression. However, you knew that seeing a shrink wasn’t an option for you.

Yeah, no. You weren’t going to give Alastor the chance to say “Mama’s not crazy, my dear, don’t listen to the people down the street…She’s just a little unwell in the head right now. Now smile, she wouldn’t want to see you sad.” To your son. That was not fucking happening.

Alastor looked at you, smiling like the sick, sadistic monster he was.You were stuck. He knew that. He knew that you were in your own head more so than you should, especially when Noah was at school.

He knew you didn’t have anything to keep yourself busy with, hell, he basked in that fact. The fact that you were slowly losing all drive to fight and just accept this was like music to his ears.

You were running out of people to talk to. Running out of neighbors to ask for sugar when you very clearly had a perfectly fine bag in your cupboard.

You were running out of sanity.

Day-by-day, you were slowly becoming more-and-more malleable, more-and-more agreeable, more-and-more lonely, more-and-more unstable.

You were becoming what he wanted.

And may god or whatever else is out there help you find a way out before it was too late.

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere alastor #gift #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x fem reader #i walked into this with no plan #literal improv #god my teacher would be proud.#loving myself #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor the radio demon #love u more maki #k bye #dont die #not cute #dying isn't cute #dontdiecore

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possibilistfanfiction · 1 year ago

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Surgeons AU - when they first meet 🫶🏼

[just a tiny bit of bea's pov, maybe i'll do ava's too tomorrow]

it would be both stupid and irresponsible to not know at least the basics about the interns you’ll be in charge of before they get there, so you know: ava silva, md, phd is quite impressive on paper.

however: ‘silva, you’re with me,’ you say after you’ve introduced yourself to the small group and given the other four their assignments. as you take off down the hallway. dr. silva — beautiful, although that’s not a very professional thought as their boss — is wide-eyed and enthusiastic, far too talkative for you to really engage with at 4:30 am.

‘anyway, you don’t have to call me dr. silva. that sounds so serious. ava is fine, he/she/they pronouns, i don’t really care, it’s all fun to me.’

you nod, making note, but, ‘i’m going to call you dr. silva.’

he just laughs. ‘for now.’

you fight the urge to roll your eyes. ‘you worked with dr. salvius, for your doctorate?’ you ask while you wait for the elevator, for no reason other than that it’s the most normal thing to say and sometimes the way you were raised — polite smalltalk is better than silence —still overpowers.

dr. silva nods. ‘yeah. biotech stuff, neural interfacing, all that jazz.’

‘i read your research that came out this summer in the new england journal of medicine. it was quite fascinating.’ you refrain from saying amazing or incredible or groundbreaking or bordering on miraculous because dr. silva is grinning already.

‘pretty cool, yeah? i want to go into neuro, mostly because i would hate for all that research to just get stuck in the lab.’

‘well, dr. superion is the best in the world.’

‘oh yeah, i know. she and jillian have a thing; it’s actually why i wanted to match here so badly.’

you ignore she and jillian have a thing for your own sanity, pushing the button on the elevator for the fourth floor, cardio. ‘it’s a great teaching program,’ you say, because it really is, all things considered. ‘if you need anything, these first few days especially, don’t hesitate to ask. i’d rather you reach out than do it wrong.’

her grin softens into a smile, singularly for you. ‘you’re much nicer than your vibe let on at first, you know that?’

you’ve spent your whole life trying to be kind, amidst a lot of cruelty. you know you’re contained, exacting, aloof, but you liked medicine in the first place because those things — your focus and your quiet — never stop you from being able to care for people well; dr. superion, especially, has taught you that those things can make you listen better, comfort more, explain procedures more clearly to your patients and your interns both — those things can be good.

dr. silva isn’t thrown off by your silence, which is both annoying but also something you appreciate. it’s going well; he’s talking about his research and the outdoor cat who lives by her capital hill apartment, but then she’s looking at the tablet — giving you your patient’s latest vitals like you asked, getting her back on track and focused at the task at hand — and runs right into lilith, rounding the corner.

lilith’s coffee goes everywhere, all over her the floor, and dr. silva’s tablet.

‘god fucking damn it,’ lilith says, and dr. silva just looks on a little startled but also like they’re trying not to laugh — a horrible idea, if lilith’s pinched expression is anything to go by.

you apologize to lilith, which prompts, thank god, dr. silva to also apologize. lilith hurries off, cursing — not too quietly — at her ruined scrubs, and dr. silva turns to you, a little sheepish.

‘she’s hot,’ he says, then clamps his mouth shut. ‘my bad; it’s so early.’

you roll your eyes. ‘wipe off that tablet off. we’ve got rounds.’

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #surgeons au #butch bea 🥺🫡#truly disasters both of them

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faeskiss · 7 months ago

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THE EPIPHANY

note: an AU fic where the trials don’t exist, zaros and earis are on good terms ( zaros is DOWN BAAAADDDD for the earis)

synopsis; The earis realises they are in love with zaros!

The weather outside is rather sweet, a bit sombre, Serullian rain is always beautiful, and you are it’s biggest admirer,everyone knows how much you adore the gloom of the skies and the soft chill of the air

You find yourself standing on the sheltered platform surrounding the royal garden, your head is resting on the pillar as you gape at the wondrous sight before you, your heart full and content

The flowers look vibrant and alluring, almost as if the droplets have replenished their colour, the leaves look alive with greenery, the same dazzling green that reminds you of Zaros’s eyes, his eyes, they feel safe, home, the remind you of home, you feel a soft wave of calm crash against your heart leaving you with a gentle smile

There are rumours, oh so many rumours of what people think is going on between the two of you

Many think you two are caught up in some secret affair; some are absolutely certain he’s madly in love with you, the latter belief began when you both were just teenagers

It would be nice to say, with full confidence of course that you don’t believe the rumours and you don’t, mostly don’t, the thing is, you’re not entirely convinced that the talk about him being in love with you is false

There’s been a noticeable shift in your relationship, the way he speaks to you is sweeter, whenever he meets your gaze you cannot help but notice his green eyes gleaming with a certain desperation..whenever he hugs you he makes sure to linger and his heartbeat feels faster, every time the two of you dance he pulls you closer, closer than ever before

No matter how hard you try, you can not forget the way he was flirting with you a few months ago, it was reckless, desperate and worst of all, it made your chest flutter, your heartbeat quick and made it immensely hard to focus on anything but the thought of his lips for the next few days, torture is an understatement to describe that experience

Much to your surprise the flirting didn’t stop there, it only grew more and more, every gaze, every word, every time your skin accidentally brushes against his, you can feel the tension consuming you whole, so much so you wonder that one day it might just kill you

“I knew I’d find you here”

A familiar voice creeps up at you, lost in your own daze, you failed to notice Zaros’s footsteps approaching you

“Hello Zaros!” you greet him with a cool smile trying your very best to hide your nerves

“Are you alright? You look a little-“ he asks

“I’m fine! it’s just a bit cold that’s all” you interrupt him

You give him an assured smile as if you weren’t absolutely losing your sanity over him a few moments ago

Suddenly you feel a warm cloth being draped over you, you turn to face him but he’s too busy enveloping you in his cape

“Zaros you didn’t need-“

“Shh, we don’t need the future eminence of Serulla catching a cold now do we my sweet, sweet Earis?” He hums in a hushed voice

There’s that devilish smile again and it doesn’t fail to bring a swarm of butterflies in your stomach that probably won’t leave any time soon

“So do you have a date to the charity ball next week?” He asks

“No, not yet” You reply

“Good” He smirks

“Why?” You add in an annoyed manner

A sudden gush of an icy breeze flows in your direction, your hair sways with the wind, leaving a few strands displaced

He steps closer in your direction and tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear as he says

“Because I’m taking you to the ball, so be ready” his voice is hushed and soft, his eyes gleam with that same desperation, the warmth of his touch reverberates through your entire body making your knees grow weak, and it’s all made worse by that feverishly flirty look on his face

That’s when the realisation hits you and you realise how deep your desire runs for him, you lied to yourself everyday hoping this feeling would go away, but it didn’t and it won’t, you finally realise that you’re in love with your best friend.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #zsakuva zaros #zaros #zaros x reader #zaros atha’llin #this was very rushed #I’m sorry if this sucks😭#miss my husband so much🙏

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crisalidaseason · 1 year ago

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obsessed with your kenuri universe and would love to see some kenny/kuchel fluffy sibling time (why'd have to kill heeeer jk)

You ask and I shall deliver. This took me longer than I wanted (I should have posted it in December but I was very depressed). Also, sorry for having to K my sweet Kuchel, but she is very much alive in this!

Family chaos on Christmas - the prequel

Summary: Kenny is miserably working on the holiday season, Kuchel is very pregnant and Uri is worming his way into Kenny's heart.

Content warning: within my family chaos universe, modern au, a prequel of sorts, some angst, mentions of pregnancy and labor, Kenny is a good brother, Kenny is tired and anxious, mentions of anxiety, slight descriptions of anxiety attacks, fluff, some domestic vibes, sibling bond, pining (Kenny/Uri)

__________________________________________________________

Kenny waited five seconds after she left to immediately switch the door sign from open to closed.

“Happy holidays, mister Ackerman” the old woman waved as she finally left the shop.

“Happy holidays, ma’am”

“Fucking finally”

The young man wanted nothing more than to end that shift. He thought it should be a crime to work on December 24th.

“Who fucking needs repair tools on Christmas?? You know, if people were less stupid and more organized all shops could close on holidays”

He had complained while getting ready for work that morning. Kuchel - the little shit that she was - just laughed at his annoyance.

“At least the owner let you close earlier, Ken. It could have been worse”

He huffed while recalling the short conversation. It was easy for Kuchel to not relate to his misery, she never worked on holidays even before she went on maternity leave. For him, working six instead of eight hours on Christmas made no difference in the end, since traffic would probably take the rest of his sanity away.

“Fuck off” he screamed loudly as he hit yet another traffic jam. It took 30 extra minutes for him to finally arrive at the apartment complex. He groaned while parking, Kuchel’s car was almost giving up - that old thing would die on them any day, Kenny was dreading it. He managed to park and almost cried in relief. Finally home!

Well. He may have rid himself of work, but home was another rollercoaster to get through.

“Kenny!” the woman greeted him from the living room/kitchen couch “took you long enough”

The older ackerman was sitting comfortably on the couch, reading a book, a heavy blanket covering her round middle section and many pillows stacked around her.

“Have you eaten?” the man asked “I thought about take out, but traffic was impossible to go through”

“I snacked a little, it’s fine” she assured him, but her face said otherwise.

She finally reached the ninth month - or, according to her, the 39th week - of her pregnancy. Kuchel was huge and feeling as uncomfortable as her appearance suggested. The last few weeks were filled with low mobility and badly assembled snacks.

“What about some chicken salad?” he suggested “I pre-made some seasoned shredded chicken”

The woman’s eyes beamed at him.

“Kenny, you’re a lovely lovely brother, you know that?”

He groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever”

Despite his initial stress and tiredness, there was a calming property in cooking a tasty chicken salad. He was far from a good student in school, but the ‘chemistry’ and ‘physics’ of food always fascinated him, he wished life could subside enough for him to spend more time experimenting with cooking. The satisfaction of eating a good meal was a recent comfort he was thankful for everyday.

“Here” he handed his sister the plate with plenty of the chicken salad “beverage?”

She motioned the half full bottle of guava juice on the kitchen table, silently denying his question. The Ackerman man sat down on the ground, with his own plate on his lap, leaving a groan of relief at the first bite. He turned the television on, looking for something interesting to watch but only finding Christmas movies or news.

“Go back!” Kuchel’s voice almost startled him.

“What? The stupid christmas movie?”

She nodded fervently while still chewing. Kenny shook his head and went back to the channel playing a movie - what seemed to be one of those holiday rom coms.

“I thought you hated romcoms,” Kenny commented.

“I do”

Kenny had learned early on that pregnancy made Kuchel even weirder. From the moment she found out the unexpected demon spawn in her uterus, she had weird cravings (not only for food, there were a few weeks she could only sleep by watching animal documentaries). He learned to not question after a while, it kept things easy to handle.

“Do you think family Christmas dinners are always like that?” she pointed her fork at the tv “It seems so inaccurate”

Kenny shrugged. Still focused on his plate.

“Well, it doesn’t snow here in december so safe to say it might not be so accurate” his sister concluded on her own.

They kept eating in silence and the movie proved to be just as stupid as it promised, though he heard sniffling behind him. Now, if there is something Kenny learned ever since he and his sister finally left the foster system to live together was that you don’t question her feelings - especially pregnant. He almost considered patting her on the shoulders in comfort but remembered she still had a good aim and her flip flops were right there, ready to be thrown.

“What a stupid movie” she mumbled.

He stood up, taking Kuchel’s plate and finally building courage to do the dishes despite his exhaustion. He heard his sister turn off the television and certain sounds indicated she was leaving her cocoon of blankets and pillows, grunting during the entire process.

“You okay there?” he asked while hanging the dishes to dry.

It was safe to say Kenny panicked a bit too often with Kuchel’s every display of discomfort - the nervousness of her due date always on the back of his mind. The young man was not feeling prepared at all for the big day even with his sister’s advice and thorough explanations of the process - although Kuchel herself was very new to this and also terrified despite not admitting.

“Yes Kenny, the boy isn’t coming out until next week. Relax…Uh!” she let out a shriek.

He hated her so much. Kenny ran to the living room, trying to see any signs of wetness indicating that the antichrist wanted out, instead he found his sister peering down at his phone - which was silently vibrating with a call.

“It’s your loverboy” she smiled at him like the little shit that she was “pick it up or I will”

“He isn’t-” he sighed, giving up this fruitless conversation they always had and picking up the phone.

“Hello” Kenny answered.

“Good evening, Kenny, is it bad timing?”

“No, not at all!” He dried his hands on his beat up jeans, Kuchel waving crazily in front of him.

“Great! I just wanted to call because I thought a message felt a bit too distant. I know you said you don’t celebrate Christmas, but I just wanted to wish you and Kuchel a special good night’s rest.”

The noises on the background indicated Uri, his neighbor, was probably at a family gathering at his family home, Kenny could hear loud voices and holiday music playing softly.

“Thank you Uri, we appreciate it”

Kuchel was staring at Kenny so intensely he felt a hole on his forehead, her insistent mouthing of “Can I talk to him?” “Let me talk to him!!”, distracting the man.

“In fact, she is right here dying to talk to you”

Uri laughed - a pretty sound that was - and asked to talk to Kuchel.

“Hey Uri! I haven’t seen you today but I wish you a wonderful christmas” His sister beamed at the cellphone.

She talked shortly to the other man, thanking Uri for the well wishes. Kenny was grateful his sister did not try to embarrass him this time - he had enough of her hinting to Uri that Kenny had a slight (giant) crush on the Reiss man.

“Your sister is a lovely woman. I’ll bring some food for you two when I head home”

“Nah, It’s okay, Uri. No need”

“No, I insist Kenny. We have plenty of food here anyway and I know you’ve been working a lot lately. At least we keep Kuchel with a sustainable meal to eat when you’re not home tomorrow”

“You convinced me, but don’t come crying to me when she forces you to have dinner with us and show you the same ultrasound pictures again” Kenny said, chuckling.

To that Kuchel raised her middle finger, mouthing a “fuck you, Kenny”

“Nothing more wonderful than spending the evening with Ackermans” Uri chuckled - what a pretty sound “I have to go, Frieda is looking at me like I am committing a crime, but I see the two of you soon”

They said their goodbyes and the call went off, Kenny’s heart was doing strange jumps on his ribcage - he was down bad for that man. Kuchel was sitting on the couch, smiling like a mad woman and clapping her hands.

“Not a word” he warned her.

“For the love of god, Kenny, ask that man on a date!”

He ignored her while heading for a shower, if he let Kuchel speak about Uri he would probably end up dealing with feeling he was too tired to process. Kenny preferred to like Uri from a distance - just being neighbors that got along well. His sister constantly telling him the Reiss man was into him did not help at all.

“Not only is he clearly interested, but he is so kind and patient, Ken! Give the poor man a little chance” she would say.

Kenny tried not to think about it, failing miserably though. He had many opportunities to meet Uri on a more romantic level, the man had invited him for coffee so many times and Kenny always refused politely. He was afraid, Uri did not know the mess he was in the head. And the worst part: Uri was really patient and understanding and respectful and observant…Kenny had a problem.

“I’m gonna sleep” Kenny knocked on his sister’s room “need anything else?”

“No! Everything okay. You should sleep, Ken”

He wished her a good night and flopped into his bed, slumber quickly taking him.

He never had dreams, only nightmares or an empty sleep. That night though, he dreamed about him and Kuchel sitting on a huge table full of food. His sister had a nice elegant red dress, contrasting with her long dark hair. Kenny himself looked down to see a nice set of pants and button up shirt. The decorations screamed Christmas - there was even snow outside!- but what surprised him was seeing Uri beside him, equally well dressed…with a baby in his arms. The small little human seemed to be pushing one year old, almost pink in color, pouty face, dark hair, looking at Kenny with light colored eyes.

“You want your uncle, little one?” Uri said, bouncing the child slightly.

As if he had no control, Kenny felt his arms reach out to the baby, his voice coming out in equal involuntary action.

“I know, I’m your favorite” his voice sounded…happy. Not that he was against having a nephew, he just struggled to have a connection with someone he had never met. But in that moment, looking at light blue eyes, he wondered if he could measure how dear that boy was.

“Typical of Levi to prefer the one who calls him demon spawn” Kuchel said.

The dream faded slowly, with the last scenes of a baby on his lap while they celebrated Christmas just like that stupid movie they were watching. He woke up feeling a strange sense of missing something. Of sadness. He stayed in bed for longer than usual, wondering why he dreamed of that. His only family was Kuchel for as long as he remembers, everything different than that seemed terrifying.

The boy seemed so real. What about Uri? Could he ever be anything more than a friendly neighbor?

Deciding that he can’t afford having an existential crisis, the man finally decided to start his routine, but early morning finally came to test Kenny's bowels. As soon as he saw Kuchel enter the kitchen, seemingly uncomfortable and walking weirdly, he panicked once again.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Kenny asked again - to his own demise.

“Kenny!” His sister warned him.

“I’m just worried, you seem to be hurting quite a lot”

Kuchel looked at him unimpressed, not answering. She had woken up that morning complaining of a few contractions.

“It’s probably false alarm, Kenny, but it still sucks”

Kenny was in a full pit of anxiety at that point. Everytime she had a false alarm he panicked anyway, a single sneeze and that spawn would pop out of her. He didn't think she would make it to an entire week.

“I’m gonna try and call your doctor again”

Kenny tried once again the number, without success.

“We should go to the hospital, Kuch” he tried again to convince her.

“No! They’re just going to send us home again, let’s see if it progresses and then we go”

Kenny was honestly tired, and scared, but he nodded. It took several minutes for Kuchel to finally convince him to go to work for at least the morning shift, but he was not able to concentrate well. He checked her text messages constantly, alongside Uri’s.

Uri Reiss Neighbor: I’m with her, if anything happens I’ll rush her to the hospital

You: Thanks Uri, I promise I’ll be back by 2pm since it’s Xmas day

Uri Reiss Neighbor: No need to thank me, see you soon. I’m making lunch if that’s okay.

That man was a fucking saint. Kenny was down bad. He had to concentrate while trying not to fall in love with that man or dying of worry for his sister. Work was haphazardly done, Kenny practically breaking traffic laws to go home, practically climbing the stairs to his apartment floor, thinking he would have to immediately rush her to a hospital for the antichrist to be born…just to find Uri and Kuchel sitting quietly on the dinner table, tea in front of them and a deck of cards.

“Good afternoon, Kenny” Reiss greeted him.

“Hi, Ken”

Kenny looked at his sister with confusion. She seemed composed and calm. Uri - as always - was well dressed, smelling like a hundred yards of soft flowers, calmly playing with Kuchel.

“The contraction stopped as soon as you left” she said, pointing to her huge stomach “maybe he doesn’t like you”

Kenny groaned, sitting on the couch to catch his breath.

“Demon spawn” he mumbled, smiling discreetly.

Kuchel turned, burning him with her eyes.

“He is a perfect little angel”

That was another bickering Kenny did not want to continue so he just surrendered. But he was a demon child! Anything born from an Ackerman was demonic - Kenny was an absolute nightmare as a kid and he was already dreading that baby.

“Hungry?” Uri asked “There is a plate for you in the microwave”

His noisy stomach answered for him, guiding his already tired self to the kitchen. The food was probably from the family dinner Uri went to last night, good quality meat and tasty sauce. He wondered if he could reproduce that recipe one day and maybe make a special dinner after the baby was born. He ate on the table while watching his sister and Uri play with the cards, attentively listening to Kuchel's gossip of the apartment complex group chat. She was bored to death most days, watching people from the balcony and stalking the chat seemed to be the entertainment of the century.

“It’s okay, Uri, now that Kenny is here he can keep an eye on me” his sister said once Uri hesitated to return to his family’s home.

“I’ll return tomorrow morning. My mother really insisted that I return to the church’s dinner tonight but if anything happens you can call me” he assured the Ackerman siblings before reluctantly leaving.

“He is such a nice man” Kuchel quietly said once Kenny had closed the door “I know I bother you with it, but I really think he would be a good match”

Kenny smiled a little, sitting beside his sister on the couch and softly shoving her with his shoulder.

“I know, but I really don’t feel ready right now”

Love was not something he thought was possible. Not for him, much like it wasn't for his sister. He felt her hand on his forearm, rubbing him softly.

“I know, take your time” she said in a hushed tone “like I said, he is a very patient man”

Her calm features soon contorted into painful ones. She let a long breath out.

“Another contraction?” he asked.

She nodded, breathing in and out in a slow rhythm.

“It never really stopped, but I did not want to alarm any of you until I was sure it was constant”

“Kuchel! What the actual fuck-”

“Shhhhh” she said “don’t scold me! I am counting them and I can’t do this if both of you keep hovering over me”

Kenny groaned, visualizing himself shaving her hair bald as revenge for the rollercoaster of worry he felt.

“Do you think it’s for real?” he asked her.

Kuchel nodded, holding his forearm strongly.

“I’m scared” she whispered “I don’t know if I can do this, Ken”

Despite his anxiety, he tried to comfort her by holding her shoulders in a strange side hug - typical of a touch terrified Kenny. She rested her head on his shoulder.

“I’ll be with you, Kuch”

And he did. When her contractions became too unbearable and close timing, they left for the hospital in the midst of a starting rain. The streets were calm since it was late at night, everyone most likely at the churches celebrating the holiday.

“Ma’am, my sister is giving birth” he had told the woman at the front desk.

“No father, I’m the one taking care of her” he told the social worker registering the appointment.

“Can you call another doctor then?” he almost yelled when they informed her doctor was MIA.

“Can anyone please check on her for god’s sake?!” he tried to stay calm when nobody would check on his sister when her water broke.

It was a turbulent three hours, time bringing a raging storm that occasionally painted the sky with lightning and thunder. When Kuchel was finally checked on, she was fully ready to push. Kenny was a strong man, but he wanted to die with every scream coming out of his sister’s throat. His hand was still, only because of the iron grip she had on it, otherwise he would be trembling. When the cry of a baby finally broke the room’s chaos, Kenny thought he had lost his hearing. Everything had gone muffled and fuzzy. He did not know, but later the nurses told him that he was almost hyperventilating, still holding Kuchel’s hand despite his eyes losing focus.

“Look at him, Kenny” Kuchel was crying “he is so small”

The baby laying on her chest was nothing like the grown infant of his dream, in fact, that newborn was multiple shades of red and purple, scrunched face and tiny feet, limbs so thin they could be compared to the girth of Kenny’s fingers.

“Sir, breathe in and out, you’ll be fine” said a nurse nearby.

He kept his eyes on the small being, then at his sister. She was sweaty, exhausted and crying profusely. He wanted her cries to be only of happiness, but he knew she was just as terrified of this as he was. They were just two adults with a fucked up story, having to care for a non planned baby. He was barely 25 and had an entire human to watch out for - because he sure would not leave Kuchel to deal with this on her own.

“Welcome, spawn. I’m your uncle” he managed to choke out.

Kuchel laughed, more because of the drugs than actually finding the nickname funny. He spent the entire night watching over a sleeping sister and the baby in the bassinet. He admired as the storm raged in the first hours of the morning, the darkness still outside. His cellphone would occasionally ring with notifications.

Uri Reiss neighbor: I got stuck because of the rain, the streets are flooded. I’ll get there, I promise, but it might take a while. Tell me what I can bring to you or Kuchel.

He smiled at the phone, sending Uri his gratitude. Despite the chaos outside, he felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe it was the medication the nurses administered due to his mini anxiety attack, but he liked to think it was a sign that everything would be alright.

“How are you feeling?” said the slurred voice of Kuchel.

“I should be asking this”

“Well, I'm a bit high” she smiled “and you seem too”

He chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kuchel looked at the bassinet, warmth in her tired eyes.

“He is out…”

“On a holiday!” Kenny complemented “spawn made sure to be born at the same day of Jesus”

“Fuck you” she laughed “I think he came to force us to celebrate christmas day in a way or another”

Kenny nodded, not doubting for a moment that whatever ruled this world had a strange sense of humor.

“He was almost born on the 26th for just a few minutes” he said “he was determined”

The Ackerman siblings kept the comfortable silence, Kuchel not taking her eyes off the sleeping baby nearby.

“Kenny”

“Hm?”

He looked at her tired eyes, Kenny realizing they were so similar to the baby of his dream.

“I don’t have a name for him”

“You were never satisfied with the thousand names you picked” he replied.

“Maybe something with a ‘K’? To match us” she said.

“That’s horrendous, Kuchel!” he protested “Me and you having a name with a ‘K’ is already atrocious enough”

“You’re right…” she said “I want something that doesn’t come from parents we barely knew”

Kenny deliberated if he should tell her about the name of his dream. Levi…he remembered something about that name in bible study he was forced into by the orphanage. It meant something specific, meant-

“Connection”

Kuchel eyed him as if he had lost his mind.

“Kenny, if this is your suggestion-”

“No, woman, listen!” he interrupted “I mean that he is connected to us only. Your kid, my nephew, nothing else”

“Well, that’s true”

“And Levi means connected, joined” He finally said it.

Kuchel pondered for a moment, analyzing the name by looking at the child’s sleeping shape.

“A biblical name, right? I remember it from church” Kuchel said.

“It’s just a suggestion-”

“I like it” she interrupted this time “Levi. It sounds firm, strong”

She smiled, as if contemplating calling him that for the rest of his life. Kenny thought she would put up a fight - for being the one to carry for months and not choosing the name.

“Levi it is” she concluded.

Kenny nodded, happy that she liked it. He did not know if his dream was prophetic or just an amalgamation of anxiety and nine months of constantly thinking about this other being in their lives.

“Can I ask you something really important?”

He nodded.

“He was born on Christmas” she began “I know we never really liked this day because of all the family bullshit, but now…”

He understood. They were bitter people, but that kid had nothing to do with it.

“We’re gonna give him the Christmas we never had, right Kenny?”

#kenny ackerman #kenny #kuchel ackerman #uri reiss #kenuri #kenny x uri #levi ackerman #levi

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yolowritter · 9 months ago

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A Case of Ladybug Luck Chapter 4

Hello there everyone, and welcome back to Hell! Holy Nooroo it's been so long since I posted abt this AU. Mostly because I'm busy actually writing it and 300k words are apparently nowhere near enough to finish what I started a year ago! Anyway, I'm just going to do a speedrun of posting these early chapters because I want to get to the good stuff already! Believe me, it's worth! So, from now on I won't have a note at the beggining of this, just the snippet and chapter link, kay? Cool! Asks are open btw if anyone wants to chat about ACOLL! Enjoy my suffering!

Nathalie was curled up on the couch, definitely asleep. She looked pale, the same way Marinette would pale when she was worried about him. Like she’d literally been worried sick. His father was sitting in an armchair beside her, reading a book. Gabriel didn’t notice his approach. One of them had wheeled out a TV from the guest rooms down the hall, and it was tuned in on…the news? TVI, it looked like, and they were on an add break. Adrien took a deep breath to steady himself, to throw the image of his seething father almost breaking the dinner table with his fist, right out of his mind.

Gabriel glanced at the screen, stared at the advertisement, something about a new hair product, and went back to his book. It had a full black cover, Adrien noted as he approached. Gabriel heard his footsteps, used a bookmark to not lose the page he was on, and shut the book, placing it next to him on the chair. For a moment, Adrien saw the title. “The Illusion of Living.” Wow. Macabre, much?

“G-good morning father.”, Adrien tried as a greeting. This…was weird. He wasn’t used to seeing his father relax…or at all, to be honest. He looked uninterested, indifferent. Gabriel glanced at the TV, saw the news hadn’t come on yet, and turned to face his son.

“Ah, Adrien. Did you sleep well?”, he asked, seeming genuinely curious. Oddly, Adrien noticed his father wasn’t wearing his tie clip. The empty white spot where it should be drew his eye, but Adrien reigned himself in and nodded an affirmative.

“Yes. But…father, I don’t mean to disrespect you but…don’t I have a photoshoot today? Two hours ago?”, he asked, hesitant.

Gabriel’s expression shifted from his calm. Like a porcelain mask, the façade cracked, and for a single second Adrien thought he saw guilt and sadness in his father’s eyes. He looked so…forlorn. Defeated, even. Guilty.

He nodded, seeing that his father wasn’t going to say anything else. Adrien glanced at Nathalie, concerned. His father’s assistant, always a stern but constant presence…looked so frail. She looked like mom- like she desperately needed the rest. Gabriel sighed when he caught him staring.

“Nathalie is fine, son. She’s just tired. We had an…interesting morning.” A morning that nearly cost Gabriel his sanity, and some pocket change to top things off. Some 50.000 thousand euros to ensure the silence of the hospital staff and discharge him as soon as he was stable. He was fine, really. The problem wasn’t physical. Dizziness overcame him, suddenly. Emilie had said the same thing, once.

Adrien nodded again, not knowing what else to do. “I…Am I free for the day, then?”, he asked his father.

Gabriel didn’t even pretend to consider it. “Yes, free for the week. I’ve cancelled all your lessons and photoshoots. You’re…welcome to stay home, if you’d like. I’ve delegated my own duties for today, so if you require anything…please come talk to me.”, he said, sounding like the words struggled to leave his mouth.

“Adrien, remember. You are my son. I am your father. It’s my responsibility to make sure you are well. I will be there when you need me.”, Gabriel tried, testing the words. They sounded…right, this time. An odd sense of numbness washed over him again, and he turned back to the television. “You should go to your room, sleep some more. It’s been a long week for you, I’m sure.”, he added as an afterthought, his tone monotonous and dry. Almost robotic.

“…Right. I- I’ll go and lay down, then. Good morning, father.”

Gabriel blinked, as if the time was news to him. Right, the night was over. It was a new day, now. He didn’t feel like it. He barely felt like anything at all. “Of course, son. Now go.”, he insisted, eyes glued to the final, fading advertisement, before the screen switched to Nadja Chamack. Adrien obeyed and began to ascend the stairs again, and Gabriel unmuted the broadcast.

“Welcome back, Paris. As I said before, there have been no further news on the case. Poor weather conditions lasted all throughout the night, and police have had no luck finding any trace of…”

Adrien stopped in his tracks, midway up the staircase. He breathed deeply. “Father…did something happen?”, he asked hesitantly. Something had to have happened. This…couldn’t all be because of Lila, could it?

Gabriel’s eyes seemed to glance back at him, even though his head didn’t move an inch.

“We’re standing by for news on any new developments, and are hoping for the best. Please wait for more information.”

“Not to me. I’m fine.”, he said coldly, the air of indifference returning to his tone.

Adrien hoped it wouldn’t be followed by another outburst. He hung his head, and obeyed his father’s order, going back to his room. Maybe he could mess around with his piano? Last they’d met, Luka had given him some inspiration for a song. Hadn’t he said something about…masks? Adrien would have to text him, see if he remembered.

Plagg was there when Adrien opened the door, hovering over his unlocked phone. He looked…sad. Making a face of realization the same way Adrien would do when he could guess that more photoshoots would be added to his schedule. Like an inevitability had just come true. The kwami spun to face him when he came in, but Plagg’s face betrayed nothing of what Adrien had just seen.

“Hey kit! Morning! Wow, good thing your pops let us sleep in today huh? Say, I’m full of energy! How about we go for a run, huh? Get your muscles going?”, Plagg said, looking frantic and desperately pretending to be happy and excited. Adrien knew a thing or two about playing pretend.

Plagg never lied to him. Not unless something was very wrong, not after the Sandman incident. He’d promised. Plagg hadn’t lied to him since. Adrien let the worry he felt for Plagg show on his face. Words weren’t needed between them sometimes, and he didn’t think he should say what he could show. Plagg tried to keep his smile up. Adrien saw him strain himself, the widening of his eyes to look restless, the same expression he’d make when he got bored of flying around his room.

Adrien stared at him. Plagg stared back, a pleading look to please pretend he was oblivious, go along with it. After a moment, the Kwami faltered, and his mask broke.

“K-kid.”, he tried to speak, voice cracking as if his throat had been hit by a Cataclysm. “Do me a favor.”, Plagg begged him. Adrien had already opened his mouth to agree when his phone rang. “Don’t answer that. Please.”, Plagg insisted.

Adrien checked the caller ID. It was Nino. He shot Plagg a look. The cell rang again. Adrien ignored it to swipe down on the screen and check his notifications. 37 missed calls from Nino. 2096 unread messages. Half of those from Alya. What the fuck? The ringing seemed to get louder. Plagg’s whiskers dropped, his face fell.

Adrien reached out a hand to pet him, to offer comfort for whatever was wrong, but Plagg retracted. “Kit…I’m so sorry.”, he offered meekly, and flew up to his spot, curling up in a ball. Adrien thought he heard him sobbing. He picked up the phone, worried and confused. Why was his father acting like that? Why was Plagg acting like that?

Nino’s voice sounded horrible. Like he’d been crying. “A-Adrien?”, he asked, stuttering in near disbelief. “Thank fuck, are you okay? No, sorry, stupid question. How are you…holding up, dude?”

Okay, now Adrien knew something was very, very wrong. He tried to mask his fears with confusion. “Nino? What happened? I just woke up, are you okay?”, Adrien asked with genuine concern, trying not to panic. He’d kept himself together while fighting supervillains, he could get through one conversation without letting his worries eat him up.

Nino sobbed on the other end. Went silent. Adrien heard Alya’s voice, just barely, as if they’d moved the phone away from them.

“Nino…do we tell him?”, she asked, sounding frightened.

Nino failed to hold back a sob. “Babe…we have to.”

Nino moved the phone closer. “Uh…dude. You might want to check the news…”, he said awkwardly. Adrien was downright panicked now. He didn’t respond to Nino, he rushed back downstairs to his father, to the broadcast. What was happening? Why were his friends walking on eggshells around him? Had he done something? Did Lila do something?

“Please hold on, we’ve just received a statement from Officer Raincomprix. Stand by for-”

Gabriel had the book in his lap, reading calmly. Miss Chamack’s voice didn’t seem to bother him. She paused mid-sentence, and moved off screen.

She came back into frame, looking like she was about to cry. Her professionalism was in shambles, Adrien saw the way her face twitched with silent tears, holding back the urge to sob.

“I- I regret to inform everyone that we’ve received official word from the Parisian Police Department. Marinette Dupain Cheng has been confirmed dead. It was ruled a suicide.”

#miraculous ladybug #ao3 fanfic #a case of ladybug luck #marinette dupain cheng #it's peak angst #a *lot* of angst #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #marinette f*cking died #for real this time #i swear #once again i cringe at my old chapters #i've gotten so much better #i swear on Nooroo himself #mental unhealth #when is it not #adrien agreste needs a hug #he gets it from the local terrorist #hope you enjoy

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quietlyblooms · 7 months ago

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GRASP THE DAWN | MY HERO ACADEMIA AU

your quirk isn't well-suited for heroism. you think this long before anyone has the chance to say the words aloud. your skin shifts and changes without your permission, reveals the way your heart clenches and startles. it doesn't matter how well-trained your poker-face is; the hue of your skin always gives you away. you can't hide anything as well as you'd like to.

well, you couldn't. time, training, and stubborn, furious determination did wonders for your quirk and, most of all, your sanity.

you just wanted control over your own body. you weren't thinking of the future, what might become a possibility rather than a naïve child's dream. your quirk wasn't well-suited for heroism. only you still believed this as you entered high school, and it was your homeroom teacher, flabbergasted by the use of your quirk for a practical joke and your adamant protest that you did not belong in the hero course, who eventually made you see reason.

and now you've come full circle, it would seem. u.a. high school looms overhead, and your stomach somersaults. teaching is meant to be a break from the stress of your hero career, give you a chance to help students reach their true potential just as your homeroom teacher did for you. you belatedly accept that maybe all won't go according to plan. more than likely it won't. but that's fine.

you'll meet the challenge with a smile, teeth bared in determined defiance.

QUIRK INFO

similar to octopi, chiyo's skin is made up of special cells that allow her to mimic the colors and textures of her surroundings. it comes as naturally as breathing these days, sometimes to the extent that chiyo may disappear while immersed in thought or a task ( almost like an unconscious effort to remain undisturbed ). this ability is most ideal for covert assignments or partnerships that involve a flashier teammate. chiyo also possesses a venomous bite like certain octopi, capable of paralyzing and even killing her opponent if left untreated. she purposely leaves this detail out of most unofficial profiles and interviews, though, as it's useful to have a hidden card up her sleeve. she also doesn't want anyone asking to see her fangs. that's embarrassing. there are other physical advantages chiyo shares with octopi, such as enhanced strength and an accelerated healing factor, though don't expect her to regrow a missing limb!

ADDITIONAL INFO

chiyo acts as a remedial combat teacher as well as the art teacher for u.a. high school, where she once attended as a teen.

her official title is the color-changing hero, chiyoko, though this may change if i come up with something better :' )

while she may have a following as many heroes do, she's likely to be a lesser known pro hero; her career involved working closely with the police and higher authorities, working undercover, infiltrating, or neutralizing volatile targets. she's done few interviews and never sought out endorsements, much preferring the quiet career she's had.

this " quiet career " did lead to chiyo losing an old friend, which was part of her final decision to try teaching for a while. she needed a break, and in a way, she hopes she can make up for failing that friend. this is a detail only those very close to her would know about.

chiyo’s hero uniform is a skintight suit that has a utility belt which carries smoke bombs, an extending bo staff, a small dart gun which utilizes a diluted form of her venom, and whatever else she can fit within it ( typically things that can be used for traps and distractions ). what she can carry is limited bc if the belt were any larger, it would be difficult for the material to react to her quirk like the rest of her suit. the suit itself is white if chiyo is not actively using her quirk. there is also a helmet, but this is often forgotten or only used during planned assignments. chiyo thinks it's itchy and uncomfortable.

i'm sure i'll add more here as i catch up with the series, but if you have questions in the meantime, just ask <3

#grasp the dawn | my hero academia #i sit before flowers & hope they will train me in the art of opening up | headcanons #'i'll probably make a bare bones verse for now' UH HUH SURE JAN!!!!!#don't ever trust me when i say i'm gonna do the minimal amount of writing bc it's an absolute lie y'all ASDFG #anyway............. here we are!!!!#lemme take a moment and i'm gonna start working on other things for y'all i promise :' )))

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madaboutmunson · 1 year ago

Text

Gucci Little Piggy

I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Chapter 3

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Link to fic overview and all parts

Chapter Summary: Eddie and Steve officially meet for the first time at Steve's home

Author Notes: This is a mature story, definitely 18+ only.

Tags/Warnings: rockstar!AU; band; touring; music industry; alternate universe; drug usage; alcohol abuse; performing; enemies to lovers; road trip Word Count: 6.2K

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Marney: Unclench your jaw

Eddie wrinkles up his nose at the message on his phone in silent fury because she knows him so well.

Eddie: My jaw is not clenched. Everything is fine.

It was clenched, and everything was not fine. He doesn't know why he bothers lying to Marney. Maybe he does it for himself like the words were part of a spell that could magically alter the level of tension that was actually causing pain in his body. His jaw, across his shoulder blades, his fingers digging into his thighs through the denim.

Marney: Just remember the money and exposure. 🤑

Eddie: Ok, never use that emoji again!

Eddie: You don't think I'm trying?

Eddie: I'm not a complete idiot!!

Marney: Who are you? And what have you done with Eddie?

Marney: He's my idiot and you'll give him back, otherwise I'm not meeting my quota

Eddie: Oh yes, ha-ha, very funny

Eddie: What's wrong with this guy? The residency isn't for another two weeks!

Eddie: Mark my words. This is going to end badly. He's clearly insane.

Marney: His level of sanity I cannot confirm.

Marney: The amount of money pending to be transferred I can, though.

Eddie: It was already six figures Marn. He adds another zero to meet the day after we agree to the project.

Eddie: For what? So you ship me off to him the very next day to have a conversation we don't need to have? It's all in the contract.

Marney: It's all getting a bit Indecent Proposal, isn't it?

Eddie: That's not funny!

Marney: It is a little, getting to see you all flustered like this 😏

Eddie: A million! A million dollars for a list of ten photos! That's insane! The man is insane!

Marney: A million is pocket change to people like Harrington. Do not sweat it.

Marney: When that extra zero came in, I woke Legal up and booked you a flight.

Marney: His requests aren't anything weird:

Marney: The checklist of photos for the book.

Marney: Access to all pictures taken.

Marney: You are on call for the duration.

Eddie: That last one…

Marney: Eddie, you used to do this ALL. THE. FUCKING. TIME! You know musicians don't keep regular hours. They can get inspired in the middle of the night.

Marney: And as you well know, it's usually you waiting around for them to wake up and function rather than you being woken up by them.

Marney: It's a million dollars! People like us never see that kind of money. It's life-changing. Please. For me. Just be civil and get through it.

Eddie: I'm just saying it seems weird.

Marney: He also agreed to your project too, Ed. Don't forget that. I cannot tell you how quickly that yes came back.

Eddie: Because he's got no shame, Marn!

Marney: Eddie.

Marney: Please.

Marney: Point. Shoot. Edit. Send. Get paid.

Marney: Change your stars.

Eddie goes to type back, but he feels the car slow to a stop. A crunch of gravel and muffled voices. Moments later, his door is opened.

"Mr Munson?" The woman asks as Eddie steps out and nods. The car is swarmed by athletic people sporting black security uniforms.

The woman in front of him makes eye contact with her team members and then looks back at him, "Your agent said you were staying?"

"I-I am. Just not here." Eddie says nervously. He was supposed to be, that's what Marney had advised, but Eddie had dug his heels in and got an airport hotel instead, at his own expense, "I'm so bad at waking up for flights, so," he scratches the back of his neck, "the closer, the better."

She folds her arms and levels him with a look before scanning him up and down. "You don't want to spend the night? Stay in Steve Harrington's house?" She almost laughs out the last question.

Eddie figures it's something ingrained in him that is making him nervous with all these official-looking uniforms around him, "Not if I wanna keep this job," he says with a forced laugh, looks down and rubs his stomach, "I should really learn that fast food doesn't always agree with me." He raises his eyes to her to see if his performance has landed, and though he's not sure she believes the story, she seems happy enough to accept it for some reason. She extends her hand to him.

"Buckley. Head of security here for Mr H. This is my team. Get to know their faces and names if you care to. If it's not one of us telling you, it's not mandatory." She says and waves him through the enormous, ornate gates that slowly open as she signals to the house.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow at that. Mandatory? If it's not one of us? What did that even mean? She didn't look like your typical bodyguard or security guard that Eddie had seen over the years, but knowing he'd be meeting her at the gates, he'd done his research.

Robin Buckley. She'd only ever worked with Harrington, no one before, no one in between. She wasn't a waif by any stretch of the imagination, but she was not your typical heavy-set build either. However, the footage Eddie had unearthed last night definitely sent the message home that she is not to be fucked with. She easily kept the crazies at bay, and Harrington's humanising posts about how safe he felt with her around made her a fan favourite. Even though she was often the only thing standing between him and his adoring followers.

He'd seen three times caught on film she'd intercepted a weapon or projectile aimed at Harrington. One effortlessly caught out of the air, cool as anything. Then there was a guy with a gun who had been leg-swept to the floor, had his wrist snapped, and was disarmed in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it display of prowess. You could see on the video Harrington hadn't seen any of it. Busy leaning back into the crowd for a selfie at the barrier with a fan's phone. Her team carried that guy away, and she just fell back into step beside him. The third was definitely the most terrifying. Mainly due to the fact there were so many different views of the same event because it happened whilst Harrington had been singing one of his most famous songs. It looks like a fan rushes the stage, not uncommon, but as Harrington shuts his eyes to croon to the crowd under the spotlight, something catches the light in the fan's hand, and if this had been a movie, you'd swear this would be the singer's last scene. But it wasn't. From out of nowhere, Buckley's big black boot steps into the light and puts the assailant in a choke hold from behind. They were out for the count in seconds and pulled back with her into the darkness.

She gestures to a golf cart and stops him just before it. "We have to search you and your things. I can do it, or a preferred team member. Mr. H said it was imperative you were made to feel comfortable, but I do still have to check you aren't some weapon-wielding psycho. So we'll do it mid-way at the gatehouse." Eddie's eyebrows raise in alarm, fearing the worst. Jesus, how intrusive was this search gonna be? A smirk appears on her face, "Don't worry, Mr Munson, it's just a pat down, scan and bag check. I'm fairly confident I could incapacitate you before you pulled anything out of your ass." Her smile broadens, and it looks like she almost laughs.

Cleared by the search, he's returned his camera bag and taken to the house. House seems like a stupid word to use. It looked like a castle or fortress. It was huge. It loomed over the surrounding grounds, and Eddie felt tiny in its shadow. This place was light years away from where Harrington was in his life the last time they had crossed paths. The jealousy and loathing wake up in Eddie again, remembering the picture that ended everything.

He just didn't get it.

He had taken that kind of shot hundreds of times. It went viral. The fans loved it. It eventually ended up on everything from billboards to stamps, but initially, it was just a social media post with his handle tagged in the text beneath it for two months. Eddie has been on the precipice of exploding, and in a way, he got a taste. Marney was inundated with offers, so many he was booked solid for two years by the end of the month, and he is eternally grateful for Marney crossing every t and dotting every I on those contacts because not long later, everything fell apart.

It started when Harrington released his tour diary. The pictures Eddie had taken at that gig were included, as were the shots of hundreds of other photographers. Some of the lesser-known ones in the scene were experiencing the same thing as Eddie. Harrington's tour had garnered so much attention, and his fan base was colossal even before he struck his first chord. Everything that the tour touched had credit cards and offers thrust at it.

But something had singled Eddie out.

Harrington's team had sent him and Marney a copy each before general release, and before they'd even opened theirs, Marney got an email.

Harrington wanted to work with Eddie personally. Eddie couldn't believe his luck. Agreed straight away. But Marney had looked at Eddie's calendar, and he was already booked.

"Fuck Marney. This is crazy. Tell 'em, yeah, tell 'em the day we finish up all these, I'll leave myself free for any projects he has in mind." He'd almost foamed at the mouth with excitement. He and Harrington were blasting off into success at the same time, and he hated he couldn't give back to the person who gave him a boost and put his work in the eyes of millions.

Marney sent back the offer, and they'd popped a champagne bottle. Before she'd even poured a glass, her phone had buzzed again, and this guy's preoccupation with Eddie had begun.

Eddie sighs and just tries to remember the money as Buckley and her agents of pain guide him through the lavish foyer and corridors until he's in a reception room of sorts. A small circle of sophisticated chesterfields on one side of the room, a wooden bar in the corner and a massive table with chairs neatly tucked in all around it.

One of the team gestures at the armchair, and nervously, Eddie sits with his camera bag and portfolio on his lap. He wasn't so much nervous in that he was expecting something terrible. It was more to do with this place being so fucking daunting and that he had to get through this to get paid.

The door opens, and Eddie forces a smile on his face for his nemesis. But what walks through the door is something else entirely. Eddie stands up immediately, almost dropping his camera bag and portfolio to the ground as he does, but he gets a hand to them at the last second and carefully places them on the coffee table.

The man points at him and, in potentially the most monotonous voice he's ever heard, says, "Great, wonderful, you're on time. I like the cut of your jib already…." He lifts the file he's holding to his eyeline and readjusts his glasses, "Munson." Eddie extends his hand to shake, but the man looks at him, then his hand, and then moves to sit in one of the opposite chairs, leaving Eddie to bashfully lower his hand and sit down.

"Ted Wheeler," he begins, and Eddie raises a hand to stop him as he pulls out his dictaphone, places it on the table, and hits record. The man looks at him over the top of his glasses and lets out the most prolonged sigh Eddie thinks he's ever heard. "Ted Wheeler of Wheeler & Family, representing Grindbone Records." He almost sounds bored of saying it. His voice was verging on dreary, "Mr Harrington wanted to arrange this so we can ensure everyone is on the same page." He scoffs and rolls his eyes, and that catches Eddie off guard. Shouldn't this guy be kissing Harrington's ass? He opens a file, and inside is a photocopy of the contract he's already seen and signed, "Just so you are aware, the agreed amount of one hundred thousand dollars will be paid for by the record label on completion of the project, as documented and signed for here." He taps the paper between them, "The remainder of the money," he shakes his head in disbelief, "promised to you by Mr Harrington, will come from himself whenever you've agreed between yourselves. We have no part in-"

A crash from somewhere in the house makes Eddie nearly jump clean out of his skin due to how quiet and monotonous this guy's voice has been. The guy opposite is unphased. He simply sighs, rolls his eyes, folds his arms and leans back in his seat.

There is another crash and a livid, "Why didn't anyone wake me?" Something smashes, "Where is Buckley? SHUT UP!! I DON'T WANT YOUR FUCKING EXCUSES!! GET ME ROBIN FUCKING NOW!!! ROBIN!!!"

Seconds later, Buckley and one of her minions run through the room they are in and through the door Ted had entered from. Eddie doesn't know what to do, so he sits awkwardly for a second as the shouting gets further away and becomes muffled before leaning across the table.

"Look, can I level with you?" Eddie says quietly.

"I suppose we may as well do something while waiting for the theatrics to finish." Ted sighs and doesn't move or even look at Eddie.

"I don't understand why I'm here. I signed the contract. I've agreed to what was asked. The residency doesn't start for a while yet. I don't get it." Eddie says in hushed tones, occasionally glancing at the door.

Ted laughs sarcastically, "Well, join the club, Sport." Eddie's beginning to wonder if he's got competition in the ranks of hating Harrington.

"You don't know why I'm here either?" Eddie asks.

"Son, I don't know why I'm here." He says like he's absolutely over all of this already, "whatever all on the same page means." he mutters under his breath and checks his watch.

"OK, great. Well, that's just marvellous." Eddie says sarcastically and leans back in his seat, tapping his knees as he does so.

Ted turns to him and looks him over, "For a man getting paid a million dollars, you sure don't seem happy to be here."

"It's not that I'm unhappy," Eddie lies with a sprinkling of work laugh, sending him a big beaming grin, "I'm just confused as to what could be $900,000 worth of urgent."

"You should have held out another hour," Ted says, no humour in his voice.

"Pardon?" Eddie says in surprise.

"Probably would have been offered double, or he would have sent his jet for you," Ted states factually, looking at his watch again, and Eddie frowns. That didn't feel good. The feeling of being bought. Like he had a price. Which ultimately was true, but to realise that about yourself feels hideous.

"This happen often?" Eddie asks, knowing it's to lessen that gross feeling creeping over his skin. If other people were bought this way to do his bidding, maybe Eddie wouldn't feel so weird about it.

The guy chuckles heartily, "People don't say no to Steve Harrington in the first place. Well, apart from you, evidently." Ted looks him up and down with a slightly raised eyebrow.

That riles Eddie up inside. What the fuck is this asshole implying, exactly?

Then it hits him. This interaction, Buckley's comments about staying over, Steve's persistence, throwing crazy amounts of money, promotions, or promises of backing his projects, and up until this offer. He'd declined everything because Harrington had ruined his career, but no one says no to Steve Harrington because everyone jumps at the chance to say yes to Harrington, just as Eddie did initially. They think I've been playing hard to get.

Eddie whips his phone out rapidly.

Eddie: Marina…

Marney: Did you get there ok? Everything went smoothly I hope. Have a great day, very busy today babe. Speak soon xxx

She'd set him up.

Eddie: Don't you dare pull that copy and paste message in me!!

Eddie: Just one thing, all those times I said no, did you tell anyone why I said no?! 🤬

Marney: Of course not, because I don't burn bridges Eddie. I just told them….you were busy.

Eddie facepalms at the screen, and Ted grimaces, eyeing him worriedly.

Eddie: So no one here has any idea that he ruined my career? They think I did a job, and then turned down offer after offer for no goddamn reason?!!

Marney: It was for a reason. You were busy. I just didn't say with what. Besides, advertising yourself as someone with their dreams in the toilet isn't exactly the brand I'm building for you Ed.

Eddie's lips form a tight line, and his grip is so tight around his phone he is sure he is one squeeze away from crushing it. He closes his eyes and counts to ten.

He gets to six.

He hears a sharp inhale from the other side of the door.

Ted stands, so Eddie copies him, even though he'd rather not. The guy isn't royalty.

The door swings open. Buckley comes in first. Then, with a hack of a cough in strides Harrington, rubbing at his nose. Wearing some cliché rockstar garb, not what Eddie remembers and certainly not how he usually appears in the media or his work. Sheer shirt, lace-up pants, smeared eyeliner and dishevelled hair adorned with a few tattoos, piercings and excessive accessories. But Eddie smiles. Hugely. Almost laughs.

Harrington stops dead in his tracks. For a glimmer, he looks surprised but quickly falls back into himself. He pops his bony hip out to the side and runs a hand through one side of his obnoxious hair, looking Eddie over like he's got any place to judge him. But not even that can wipe the grin from Eddie's face because Harrington looks like shit. Like he hasn't slept in a year. Like he literally slithered out from under a rock. He looks like half the man in Eddie's old photographs of him.

Eddie grabs his camera, "Would you mind?" He says, gesturing to it.

Harrington smiles and shakes his head, "Not at all." He talks like it's too much effort to enunciate his words, more a mumble than anything, "How do you want me?"

"You don't have to pose. Sometimes it's more fun if it happens naturally, like a candid shot?" Eddie says, his fingers moving rapidly over the camera and lens to prepare it for the lighting and distance this room could offer him.

"A voyeur," Harrington smirks.

Eddie's instinct is to bark back at this guy's mocking of him, but he thinks about the money and Marney. About his ideas and the differences he could make. He forces a small smile and tries to be funny, "A wildlife photographer."

Harrington laughs. His ringed hand comes to his face as he brushes his bottom lip with his thumb and looks Eddie up and down again. It's making Eddie's skin crawl. He feels Buckley's eyes on him and reluctantly lowers the camera, "Maybe the more spontaneous photos aren't suitable for this project." Eddie offers to cut the tension.

"Are you him?" Harrington asks with wide, almost manic eyes, and Eddie isn't sure who the He is that Harrington is referring to, "You aren't one of his underlings, are you?" and it must show because he doesn't wait for him to answer, he looks to Buckley. She nods, and Harrington bites his knuckle at her before turning back to Eddie. "You have my permission to take as many pictures of me as you want. Whenever you want. However, you want." He croaks out quietly. Even the way he talks annoys Eddie, like speaking at a normal volume like an average person is beneath him. Eddie's eye twitches with repressed rage.

"Provided we have access to them all, before you publish any, of course," Ted interjects, and Eddie watches Steve snap his head in Wheeler's direction, his mood shifted on a pinhead. Almost a snarl on his lip, tensed jaw, and a piercing glare.

Eddie snaps a photo.

Ted shoots a look at Eddie, and Buckley stiffens her posture.

The shutter noise does something to Harrington. Not only does it pull him out of his rage, but Eddie sees him instinctively go for that iconic Harrington pose he's been doing since his modelling days.

He shifts his weight to one leg, a thumb in the pocket, pulling down his waistband further, as the fingers of the same hand splay out elegantly like a dancer against his hip and upper thigh, and he rolls back that shoulder. A minuscule bowing and tilting of the head, finding his light easily, before looking at the floor and flicking his eyes straight back up to the lens, a subtle pout on his lips.

Eddie takes another photo.

Everyone relaxes.

Well, everyone except for Eddie, who is starting to get the sinking feeling that not only is Harrington insane, but this whole place might be, too.

"Show me," Harrington demands, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, already extending his hand and approaching Eddie.

"Mr Harrington, I don't have time for this." Ted sighs, exasperated, and gestures to the seat next to him. Harrington rolls his eyes, clenches a fist, and turns to sit in the armchair.

Eddie releases the breath he didn't realise he was holding and sits down.

Once seated, Eddie tries to keep most of his attention on the rep, reviewing contract details they have all already read and signed. He occasionally acknowledges Harrington out of civility, but every time he finds his gigantic pupils are already boring into him, his leg bounces, his rings tap against the arm of the chair, or he fidgets some other way.

Eddie tries his best to concentrate on what is being said, but there is nothing new here. Nothing that wasn't in the contract. He can feel the ire rise in him. He pushes it back down, thinking about the money, and smiles broadly at Ted, but the goddamn tapping and staring was distracting. So much so that it felt like it started getting louder than Ted. It's like his patience is being rapidly worn down by the human cheese grater that is Steve Harrington.

"I feel we're all on the same page here. Do you need me for anything else?" Ted says his tone is steady, but Eddie thinks he can detect the slight hints of disdain.

"He has to complete the project now?" Harrington mutters to Ted but doesn't take his eyes off Eddie, and unnerving doesn't cover it. Eddie does a bit of internal coaching. It's just ten pictures, and it's a million dollars. You could probably get most of them done in one day. You're on call, but you're not obliged to spend twenty-four hours a day with this creep. It's gonna be fine, then take the money and run the hell outta here.

"Yes, he's signed the contract. If he breaks it, it will go to legal." Ted answers and Harrington's shoulders relax a little, "But I doubt that would happen. He seems professional enough." he closes the file and gathers it up to stand. Eddie stands, too. He's more than ready to leave this place, go back to the hotel, have something very strong to drink and complain to Marney down the phone for an hour or two. "He was on time for a start," and Eddie feels that jab swing for Harrington, but he doesn't seem to have noticed it.

Ted walks towards one door, and Eddie quickly gathers his things and goes to leave out of the other, but he turns to find the door blocked by two of the security team. He turns to follow Ted through the other door, but a firm, gloved hand lands on his shoulder and stops him in his tracks. Buckley shakes her head once at him and pushes him back into his chair.

Ok, now he's fucking scared. Stuck in a room with this fucked up guy and his minions that seem just to do his bidding.

He looks up at Buckley, "The meetings over. I can go, right?" He swallows nervously.

"You can spare me five more minutes." Harington's fried voice, much closer than expected, commands, doesn't ask. Eddie nearly jolts at the sound like it was a jumpscare.

Ted turns back in the doorway and looks directly at Harrington, "That is unless Mr Munson finds his working conditions unsuitable, or if he were to sustain an injury that would prevent him from meeting his contractual obligations, then I believe we postpone, or the project is over." He turns his attention to Eddie like he can read his mind. Like he knows, he just thought about flinging himself headfirst into the coffee table to escape this impending shitshow. "We would have to, of course, investigate where the blame lies and then assess compensation for both parties." His eyes return to a clenched-fisted Harrington, "And it's such a lot of money we've invested, we'd have to recoup it from elsewhere in the business." For the first time ever, he witnesses Harrington shrink. He steps away from Eddie, not taking his eyes off the man in the doorway.

Eddie can sense this is a veiled threat of some kind, but Harrington just threw nearly a million at him to get here today. He could give them the hundred grand easily.

Ted nods, "Gentlemen." And closes the door behind him.

Harrington walks to the larger table, "You bring 'em?" There is a silence, and as Eddie looks at Buckley, she raises her eyebrows, indicating it's him being asked.

"Er, yeah. Yeah. Right here." He answers, holding up the portfolio to someone who isn't even looking at him.

"Set 'em out." Harrington taps his fingers on the massive table in front of him. Buckley gives him a helpful guiding hand towards the table because Eddie freezes. He doesn't want to get any closer than he has to. Leaving a good gap between the two of them, he starts laying out the photos from that first concert in equally spaced rows, ordering them chronologically through the show. He takes a few more steps away once he's done and waits.

"Pool house or guest room?" Harrington asks.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he just blurts out, "What?" with a laugh full of nervous energy.

Harrington unrolls himself from his slightly hunched form and straightens up to face him, a small smile on his lips, "For tonight, did you choose the pool house or one of the guest rooms?" He looks him over again, and the intensity of it makes Eddie remember his school days. The sinking feeling before a bully is about to strike. "You look like a pool house kinda guy to me."

"Oh, um, neither," Eddie replies, and Harrington looks over to his head of security, his brows furrowed.

"Says he's not feeling too good. Would rather stay in a hotel." Buckley answers his questioning expression.

"Interesting," Harrington says as he steps closer to peruse the photographs.

There is a shrill, "Harry!! Where are you?" from somewhere in the building.

"Excuse me." He mumbles and leaves the room for a second before re-entering with a large group of people surrounding the table. Eddie looks around at them subtly. He recognises a number of them, relatively high-profile people. A few movie stars, a pop star, directors, the rest he doesn't know. The one that enters draped around Harrington's neck he recognises as a reality TV star, Heidi something, he doesn't remember.

Eddie knows he's getting paid a million dollars already, but the money potential in this room right now is making him feel very greedy. He resolves to try and relax. Maybe he could get something else out of all this.

Heidi swings around Harrington's neck like one of his long chains and leans over the photos, pushing a few of them out of line. It makes Eddie's eye twitch again, but he just lets it happen, "Wow, did you take these?" She bats her spider leg lashes at Harrington, who chuckles and points himself out on several of them.

"Impossible. He did," Harrington replies, nodding his head towards Eddie, and all eyes around the table fall on him. As unnerving as it is, Eddie forces a smile and gracious nod. Harrington turns to the table, "Munson Photography. He's working with me on the next set of gigs." There is a chorus of nods and approving noises as the crowd swarm over the photographs.

Heidi squeals and picks up a photo of Harrington strutting along the stage catwalk. The crowd lit up behind him, "Can I take this one?" She holds it up to Harrington.

"You'll have to ask the man himself, but prepare yourself for a no. He likes those." Harrington smirks at him as he answers her. There is a smattering of mutters around the table, and Eddie quickly leaps into action.

"You're welcome to it. It's just a print." He smiles at her, even rips one of the pockets out the back of the folder and puts the photo safely inside for her, "There you go." Harrington is observing him the whole time. He sincerely hopes this isn't a jealousy thing because he really had nothing to worry about. She was not Eddie's type at all. "We aren't called that anymore, by the way, but this is my agent's contact number if you want it." He pulls out a little pile of cards and drops them next to the pictures on the table.

She turns to Harrington, "Is your friend gonna be here later, Harry?" She asks, and there is a slight tone to it, a raise of an eyebrow, as she presses herself up against him, and his arm naturally falls around her waist.

"He doesn't wanna stay. He's a very busy man." Harrington says, grinning at Heidi. They fall into some sort of all-tongue, not much of anything else kiss, and Eddie busies himself lining up the photos again to avoid cringing. She whispers something to him. Harrington releases her and stands right next to where Eddie had been leaning over the images, readjusting them. His arm stretches around the back of him, and his hand grasps the back of the chair on the other side of Eddie, "Which ones your favourite?" He asks quietly, right next to Eddie's ear. He doesn't think he's ever felt more uncomfortable than right now.

The truth is, none of them anymore. The whole memory is tainted, but he plays the game, "The one with the curtain call." He says quickly, "Excuse me." He says politely with a smile and tries to wiggle out of his situation, but Harrington's arm is firmly still in place. He could just vomit.

"You like my friend Heidi?" Harrington whispers as the others talk amongst themselves for a little while.

Eddie knows what he's getting at and honestly wouldn't have thought someone as arrogant as Harrington to be into that, but he plays dumb, "She seems like a lovely lady."

Harrington lets out a small, quiet laugh, "Mmhmmm, she is. She's pretty friendly, too, as are her girlfriends. There are so many of them. You'd be helping me tonight if you got to know them." He adds, bumping his hip against Eddie's.

"Yeah, they all seem nice." Eddie agrees, hoping it will end this stupid conversation.

His bloodshot, dilated pupil eyes lock onto Eddie's as he tries to escape, "Point your favourite out to me, Eddie."

His stomach churns as the command catches him off guard, "What?" He exclaims a little more loudly than he means to, and soon, all eyes are back on him.

Harrington's grin widens, "The photograph, Eddie."

He overly enunciates his name. Eddie swallows hard and obliges, pointing it out. Harrington leans over him to get a look, pressing his arm into Eddie's back. He hums, shifts a little and then locks his gaze with Eddie again, "Are you gay?" He asks bluntly, and the table erupts with laughter. The only people not laughing are Eddie and Harrington, though he is wearing a smile, and Eddie is wearing several shades of natural blush.

Eddie was out and proud. These days, it wasn't anything to hide, but something about this interaction made him want to crawl into a hole and disappear forever.

Heidi thumps Harrington's arm, "Don't be a dick, babe. You can't just out people. It's very un-pc! Leave him alone." She reprimands him, and he laughs mischievously, wrapping her back into his arms and finally tears his eyes from Eddie's.

Today, he'd arrived here, loathing Harrington. Now, his insides were a boiling cesspool of putrid hatred for him. He's beginning to question if this is worth a million dollars. He thinks about Marney. He reminds himself he wouldn't be able to make this amount of money in his lifetime probably. He could upgrade his kit, buy a house, buy Wayne a house, support local charities, shit, and start his own charity project. He takes a very subtle deep breath by bowing his head and letting his hair hang in front of his face, collecting himself quickly. Then, he straightens up and beams at them all, "Well, that isn't really relevant to either of our projects, so forgive me for not answering."

All eyes return to Harrington, and he huffs out a laugh and looks around the table, "It was only a question. But you know what, maybe it's not that. Maybe he just thinks you girls are a bunch of sluts, and Mr Munson here has much higher standards."

"I can assure you, it's not that," Eddie says, picking up the photos and filing them away.

"Oh, you don't mind a slut then?" Harrington laughs loudly, and the people around the table join him. And that is the last straw.

What was this guy's problem? He'd been begging Eddie to work with him again for years, and when he said yes, he paid nine times as much to get him here the next day. Had he simply done that to get Eddie back for saying no? Had he paid nine hundred grand to get Eddie in a room to belittle him in front of others? Is that the level of Ego he was dealing with here? Though fuming with annoyance, Eddie remembers to keep it civil. Otherwise, they'd look at him as the bad guy.

"It's my job to capture people and moments, maybe tell their story, but judge them? No." Eddie shuts his file and feels the jovial atmosphere disappear with its contents. He looks up and around the table. Everyone is looking at Harrington again. The smile has wiped from his face, and his eyes are cast down slightly, "There's plenty of people out there already eager to do that. I don't need to add to their number." Harrington's eyes flick back up to his for a moment but look away again, and Eddie feels the power has shifted. He can't resist picking up the metaphorical boxing gloves Wheeler left behind and taking a few jabs himself. "When someone with enough influence judges someone loudly enough. It's easy for others to gather their pitchforks en masse, ready to raze everything to the ground."

He collects his things and sees Harrington returning to being a little hunched over the table. He waves the others out with a flick of his hand. Eddie goes to follow them, but this time, Harrington stops him himself. He doesn't look Eddie in the eyes, doesn't touch him directly, just pulls on the bag strap to stop him, "I get carried away sometimes." He mutters out. Eddie's insides are still swimming with anger, but he can hear and see the unspoken apology.

That might have been one of the three authentic interactions between them today. One when he asked if Eddie had to do this. Two, when he asked if Eddie was gay, and now this. The rest of it was very much a show of sorts, for whom Eddie wasn't certain. Whilst the first two had only thrown gasoline on the fire, that was his hatred for this guy. That last one was a handful of sand.

He puts it down to having behavioural problems himself as a kid. Getting things wrong and not often getting a chance to make up for them. Then, being judged and labelled over it. That is probably why he hated this Harrington situation so much. His dad wouldn't console him when he got duped by people time and time again because he'd give them room to apologise. His dad had said he was a pushover or a doormat, but Wayne said his kindness wasn't a weakness. He just needed to be more savvy about how much he let those people back in.

"See you in two weeks, Mr Harrington," Eddie says, an unspoken iota of forgiveness.

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